of Miss Morland's having reached her home in safety,
as the cause of his intrusion. He did not address himself

to an uncandid judge or a resentful heart. Far from
comprehending him or his sister in their father's misconduct,

Mrs. Morland had been always kindly disposed towards each,
and instantly, pleased by his appearance, received him

with the simple professions of unaffected benevolence;
thanking him for such an attention to her daughter,

assuring him that the friends of her children were always
welcome there, and entreating him to say not another word of

the past.
He was not ill-inclined to obey this request, for,

though his heart was greatly relieved by such unlooked-for
mildness, it was not just at that moment in his power

to say anything to the purpose. Returning in silence
to his seat, therefore, he remained for some minutes most

civilly answering all Mrs. Morland's common remarks about
the weather and roads. Catherine meanwhile--the anxious,

agitated, happy, feverish Catherine--said not a word;
but her glowing cheek and brightened eye made her mother

trust that this good-natured visit would at least set
her heart at ease for a time, and gladlytherefore

did she lay aside the first volume of The Mirror for a future hour.
Desirous of Mr. Morland's assistance" target="_blank" title="n.协作；援助；帮助">assistance, as well in

giving encouragement, as in finding conversation for
her guest, whose embarrassment on his father's account she

earnestly pitied, Mrs. Morland had very early dispatched
one of the children to summon him; but Mr. Morland was from

home--and being thus without any support, at the end of a
quarter of an hour she had nothing to say. After a couple

of minutes' unbroken silence, Henry, turning to Catherine
for the first time since her mother's entrance, asked her,

with sudden alacrity, if Mr. and Mrs. Allen were now at
Fullerton? And on developing, from amidst all her perplexity

of words in reply, the meaning, which one short syllable
would have given, immediately expressed his intention

of paying his respects to them, and, with a rising colour,
asked her if she would have the goodness to show him

the way. "You may see the house from this window, sir,"
was information on Sarah's side, which produced only a bow

of acknowledgment from the gentleman, and a silencing nod
from her mother; for Mrs. Morland, thinking it probable,

as a secondaryconsideration in his wish of waiting on their
worthy neighbours, that he might have some explanation

to give of his father's behaviour, which it must be
more pleasant for him to communicate only to Catherine,

would not on any account prevent her accompanying him.
They began their walk, and Mrs. Morland was not entirely

mistaken in his object in wishing it. Some explanation
on his father's account he had to give; but his first

purpose was to explain himself, and before they reached
Mr. Allen's grounds he had done it so well that Catherine

did not think it could ever be repeated too often.
She was assured of his affection; and that heart in return

was solicited, which, perhaps, they pretty equally knew
was already entirely his own; for, though Henry was now

sincerely attached to her, though he felt and delighted
in all the excellencies of her character and truly loved

her society, I must confess that his affection originated
in nothing better than gratitude, or, in other words,

that a persuasion of her partiality for him had been the
only cause of giving her a serious thought. It is a new

circumstance in romance, I acknowledge, and dreadfully
derogatory of an heroine's dignity; but if it be as new

in common life, the credit of a wild imagination will
at least be all my own.

A very short visit to Mrs. Allen, in which Henry talked
at random, without sense or connection, and Catherine,

rapt in the contemplation of her own unutterable happiness,
scarcely opened her lips, dismissed them to the ecstasies

of another tete-a-tete; and before it was suffered to close,
she was enabled to judge how far he was sanctioned

by parental authority in his present application.
On his return from Woodston, two days before, he had

been met near the abbey by his impatient father,
hastily informed in angry terms of Miss Morland's departure,

and ordered to think of her no more.
Such was the permission upon which he had now offered

her his hand. The affrighted Catherine, amidst all the
terrors of expectation, as she listened to this account,

could not but rejoice in the kind caution with which Henry
had saved her from the necessity of a conscientious rejection,

by engaging her faith before he mentioned the subject;
and as he proceeded to give the particulars, and explain

the motives of his father's conduct, her feelings soon
hardened into even a triumphant delight. The general had

had nothing to accuse her of, nothing to lay to her charge,
but her being the involuntary, unconscious object

of a deception which his pride could not pardon,
and which a better pride would have been ashamed to own.

She was guilty only of being less rich than he had supposed
her to be. Under a mistakenpersuasion of her possessions

and claims, he had courted her acquaintance in Bath,
solicited her company at Northanger, and designed her

for his daughter-in-law. On discovering his error, to turn
her from the house seemed the best, though to his feelings

an inadequate proof of his resentment towards herself,
and his contempt of her family.

John Thorpe had first misled him. The general,
perceiving his son one night at the theatre to be paying

considerable attention to Miss Morland, had accidentally
inquired of Thorpe if he knew more of her than her name.

Thorpe, most happy to be on speaking terms with a man
of General Tilney's importance, had been joyfully and

proudly communicative; and being at that time not only in daily
expectation of Morland's engaging Isabella, but likewise

pretty well resolved upon marrying Catherine himself,
his vanity induced him to represent the family as yet more

wealthy than his vanity and avarice had made him believe them.
With whomsoever he was, or was likely to be connected,

his own consequence always required that theirs should
be great, and as his intimacy with any acquaintance grew,

so regularly grew their fortune. The expectations of his
friend Morland, therefore, from the first overrated,

had ever since his introduction to Isabella been
gradually increasing; and by merely adding twice as much

for the grandeur of the moment, by doubling what he
chose to think the amount of Mr. Morland's preferment,

trebling his private fortune, bestowing a rich aunt,
and sinking half the children, he was able to represent

the whole family to the general in a most respectable light.
For Catherine, however, the peculiar object of the general's

curiosity, and his own speculations, he had yet something
more in reserve, and the ten or fifteen thousand pounds

which her father could give her would be a pretty addition
to Mr. Allen's estate. Her intimacy there had made him

seriously determine on her being handsomely legacied hereafter;
and to speak of her therefore as the almost acknowledged

future heiress of Fullerton naturally followed.
Upon such intelligence the general had proceeded;

for never had it occurred to him to doubt its authority.
Thorpe's interest in the family, by his sister's approaching

connection with one of its members, and his own views
on another (circumstances of which he boasted with almost

equal openness), seemed sufficient vouchers for his truth;