of performance; and, after long thought and much perplexity,

to be very brief was all that she could determine on with any
confidence of safety. The money therefore which Eleanor had

advanced was enclosed with little more than grateful thanks,
and the thousand good wishes of a most affectionate" target="_blank" title="a.亲爱的">affectionate heart.

"This has been a strange acquaintance,"
observed Mrs. Morland, as the letter was finished;

"soon made and soon ended. I am sorry it happens so,
for Mrs. Allen thought them very pretty kind of young people;

and you were sadly out of luck too in your Isabella.
Ah! Poor James! Well, we must live and learn; and the next

new friends you make I hope will be better worth keeping."
Catherine coloured as she warmly answered, "No friend

can be better worth keeping than Eleanor."
"If so, my dear, I dare say you will meet again some

time or other; do not be uneasy. It is ten to one but you
are thrown together again in the course of a few years;

and then what a pleasure it will be!"
Mrs. Morland was not happy in her attempt at consolation.

The hope of meeting again in the course of a few years
could only put into Catherine's head what might happen

within that time to make a meeting dreadful to her.
She could never forget Henry Tilney, or think of him with

less tenderness than she did at that moment; but he might
forget her; and in that case, to meet--! Her eyes filled

with tears as she pictured her acquaintance so renewed;
and her mother, perceiving her comfortable suggestions

to have had no good effect, proposed, as another expedient
for restoring her spirits, that they should call on

Mrs. Allen.
The two houses were only a quarter of a mile apart;

and, as they walked, Mrs. Morland quickly dispatched all
that she felt on the score of James's disappointment.

"We are sorry for him," said she; "but otherwise there
is no harm done in the match going off; for it could not

be a desirable thing to have him engaged to a girl whom
we had not the smallest acquaintance with, and who was so

entirely without fortune; and now, after such behaviour,
we cannot think at all well of her. Just at present it

comes hard to poor James; but that will not last forever;
and I dare say he will be a discreeter man all his life,

for the foolishness of his first choice."
This was just such a summary view of the affair

as Catherine could listen to; another sentence might have
endangered her complaisance, and made her reply less rational;

for soon were all her thinking powers swallowed up in
the reflection of her own change of feelings and spirits

since last she had trodden that well-known road. It was
not three months ago since, wild with joyful expectation,

she had there run backwards and forwards some ten times
a day, with an heart light, gay, and independent;

looking forward to pleasures untasted and unalloyed,
and free from the apprehension of evil as from the knowledge

of it. Three months ago had seen her all this; and now,
how altered a being did she return!

She was received by the Allens with all the kindness
which her unlooked-for appearance, acting on a steady affection,

would naturally call forth; and great was their surprise,
and warm their displeasure, on hearing how she had been

treated--though Mrs. Morland's account of it was no
inflated representation, no studiedappeal to their passions.

"Catherine took us quite by surprise yesterday evening,"
said she. "She travelled all the way post by herself, and knew

nothing of coming till Saturday night; for General Tilney,
from some odd fancy or other, all of a sudden grew tired

of having her there, and almost turned her out of the house.
Very unfriendly, certainly; and he must be a very odd man;

but we are so glad to have her amongst us again! And
it is a great comfort to find that she is not a poor

helpless creature, but can shift very well for herself."
Mr. Allen expressed himself on the occasion with the

reasonable resentment of a sensible friend; and Mrs. Allen
thought his expressions quite good enough to be immediately

made use of again by herself. His wonder, his conjectures,
and his explanations became in succession hers, with the

addition of this single remark--"I really have not patience
with the general"--to fill up every accidental pause.

And, "I really have not patience with the general,"
was uttered twice after Mr. Allen left the room,

without any relaxation of anger, or any material digression
of thought. A more considerable degree of wandering

attended the third repetition; and, after completing
the fourth, she immediately added, "Only think, my dear,

of my having got that frightful great rent in my best
Mechlin so charmingly mended, before I left Bath, that one

can hardly see where it was. I must show it you some day
or other. Bath is a nice place, Catherine, after all.

I assure you I did not above half like coming away.
Mrs. Thorpe's being there was such a comfort to us,

was not it? You know, you and I were quite forlorn at first."
"Yes, but that did not last long," said Catherine,

her eyes brightening at the recollection of what had first
given spirit to her existence there.

"Very true: we soon met with Mrs. Thorpe, and then we
wanted for nothing. My dear, do not you think these silk

gloves wear very well? I put them on new the first time
of our going to the Lower Rooms, you know, and I have worn

them a great deal since. Do you remember that evening?"
"Do I! Oh! Perfectly."

"It was very agreeable, was not it? Mr. Tilney drank
tea with us, and I always thought him a great addition,

he is so very agreeable. I have a notion you danced with him,
but am not quite sure. I remember I had my favourite

gown on."
Catherine could not answer; and, after a short trial

of other subjects, Mrs. Allen again returned to--"I really
have not patience with the general! Such an agreeable,

worthy man as he seemed to be! I do not suppose,
Mrs. Morland, you ever saw a better-bred man in your life.

His lodgings were taken the very day after he left
them, Catherine. But no wonder; Milsom Street, you know."

As they walked home again, Mrs. Morland endeavoured
to impress on her daughter's mind the happiness of

having such steady well-wishers as Mr. and Mrs. Allen,
and the very little consideration which the neglect

or unkindness of slight acquaintance like the Tilneys
ought to have with her, while she could preserve the

good opinion and affection of her earliest friends.
There was a great deal of good sense in all this;

but there are some situations of the human mind in which
good sense has very little power; and Catherine's feelings

contradicted almost every position her mother advanced.
It was upon the behaviour of these very slight acquaintance

that all her present happiness depended; and while
Mrs. Morland was successfully confirming her own opinions

by the justness of her own representations, Catherine was
silently reflecting that now Henry must have arrived