periods of the
fashionable hours; crowds of people were
every moment passing in and out, up the steps and down;
people whom nobody cared about, and nobody wanted to see;
and he only was
absent. "What a
delightful place Bath is,"
said Mrs. Allen as they sat down near the great clock,
after parading the room till they were tired; "and how
pleasant it would be if we had any
acquaintance here."
This
sentiment had been uttered so often in vain
that Mrs. Allen had no particular reason to hope it would
be followed with more
advantage now; but we are told
to "despair of nothing we would attain," as "unwearied
diligence our point would gain"; and the unwearied diligence
with which she had every day wished for the same thing
was at length to have its just
reward, for hardly had she
been seated ten minutes before a lady of about her own age,
who was sitting by her, and had been looking at her attentively
for several minutes, addressed her with great complaisance
in these words: "I think, madam, I cannot be mistaken;
it is a long time since I had the pleasure of
seeing you,
but is not your name Allen?" This question answered, as it
readily was, the stranger
pronounced hers to be Thorpe;
and Mrs. Allen immediately recognized the features
of a former
schoolfellow and
intimate, whom she had seen
only once since their
respective marriages, and that many
years ago. Their joy on this meeting was very great,
as well it might, since they had been
contented to know
nothing of each other for the last fifteen years.
Compliments on good looks now passed; and, after observing
how time had slipped away since they were last together,
how little they had thought of meeting in Bath, and what
a pleasure it was to see an old friend, they proceeded
to make inquiries and give
intelligence as to their
families, sisters, and cousins, talking both together,
far more ready to give than to receive information,
and each
hearing very little of what the other said.
Mrs. Thorpe, however, had one great
advantage as a talker,
over Mrs. Allen, in a family of children; and when she
expatiated on the talents of her sons, and the beauty of
her daughters, when she
related their different situations
and views--that John was at Oxford, Edward at Merchant
Taylors', and William at sea--and all of them more beloved
and respected in their different station than any other
three beings ever were, Mrs. Allen had no similar information
to give, no similar triumphs to press on the unwilling
and unbelieving ear of her friend, and was forced to sit
and appear to listen to all these
maternal effusions,
consoling herself, however, with the discovery, which her
keen eye soon made, that the lace on Mrs. Thorpe's
pelisse was not half so handsome as that on her own.
"Here come my dear girls," cried Mrs. Thorpe,
pointing at three smart-looking females who, arm in arm,
were then moving towards her. "My dear Mrs. Allen,
I long to introduce them; they will be so
delighted to see
you: the tallest is Isabella, my
eldest; is not she a fine
young woman? The others are very much admired too, but I
believe Isabella is the handsomest."
The Miss Thorpes were introduced; and Miss Morland,
who had been for a short time forgotten, was introduced likewise.
The name seemed to strike them all; and, after speaking
to her with great
civility, the
eldest young lady observed
aloud to the rest, "How excessively like her brother Miss Morland is!"
"The very picture of him indeed!" cried the mother--and
"I should have known her
anywhere for his sister!"
was
repeated by them all, two or three times over.
For a moment Catherine was surprised; but Mrs. Thorpe
and her daughters had scarcely begun the history of their
acquaintance with Mr. James Morland, before she remembered
that her
eldest brother had
lately formed an
intimacywith a young man of his own college, of the name of Thorpe;
and that he had spent the last week of the Christmas
vacation with his family, near London.
The whole being explained, many obliging things were
said by the Miss Thorpes of their wish of being better
acquainted with her; of being considered as already friends,
through the friendship of their brothers, etc., which
Catherine heard with pleasure, and answered with all the
pretty expressions she could command; and, as the first
proof of amity, she was soon invited to accept an arm
of the
eldest Miss Thorpe, and take a turn with her about
the room. Catherine was
delighted with this extension
of her Bath
acquaintance, and almost forgot Mr. Tilney
while she talked to Miss Thorpe. Friendship is certainly
the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love.
Their conversation turned upon those subjects,
of which the free
discussion has generally much to do
in perfecting a sudden
intimacy between two young
ladies: such as dress, balls, flirtations, and quizzes.
Miss Thorpe, however, being four years older than
Miss Morland, and at least four years better informed,
had a very
decidedadvantage in discussing such points;
she could compare the balls of Bath with those of Tunbridge,
its fashions with the fashions of London; could rectify
the opinions of her new friend in many articles of
tasteful
attire; could discover a flirtation between
any gentleman and lady who only smiled on each other;
and point out a quiz through the
thickness of a crowd.
These powers received due
admiration from Catherine,
to whom they were entirely new; and the respect which they
naturally inspired might have been too great for familiarity,
had not the easy
gaiety of Miss Thorpe's manners,
and her
frequent expressions of delight on this
acquaintance with her, softened down every feeling of awe,
and left nothing but tender
affection. Their increasing
attachment was not to be satisfied with half a dozen
turns in the pump-room, but required, when they all
quitted it together, that Miss Thorpe should accompany
Miss Morland to the very door of Mr. Allen's house;
and that they should there part with a most
affectionate
and lengthened shake of hands, after
learning, to their
mutual
relief, that they should see each other across the
theatre at night, and say their prayers in the same chapel
the next morning. Catherine then ran directly upstairs,
and watched Miss Thorpe's progress down the street from
the drawing-room window; admired the
graceful spirit
of her walk, the
fashionable air of her figure and dress;
and felt
grateful, as well she might, for the chance
which had procured her such a friend.
Mrs. Thorpe was a widow, and not a very rich one;
she was a good-humoured, well-meaning woman, and a
very indulgent mother. Her
eldest daughter had great
personal beauty, and the younger ones, by pretending
to be as handsome as their sister, imitating her air,
and dressing in the same style, did very well.
This brief
account of the family is intended to
supersede the necessity of a long and minute detail from
Mrs. Thorpe herself, of her past adventures and sufferings,
which might
otherwise be expected to occupy the three or four
following chapters; in which the worthlessness of lords
and attornies might be set forth, and conversations,
which had passed twenty years before, be minutely
repeated.
CHAPTER 5
Catherine was not so much engaged at the theatre
that evening, in returning the nods and smiles of Miss Thorpe,
though they certainly claimed much of her leisure,
as to forget to look with an inquiring eye for Mr. Tilney
in every box which her eye could reach; but she looked
in vain. Mr. Tilney was no fonder of the play than the
pump-room. She hoped to be more
fortunate the next day;
and when her wishes for fine weather were answered by
seeinga beautiful morning, she hardly felt a doubt of it; for a
fine Sunday in Bath empties every house of its inhabitants,
and all the world appears on such an occasion to walk
about and tell their
acquaintance what a
charming day it is.
As soon as
divine service was over, the Thorpes
and Allens
eagerly joined each other; and after staying
long enough in the pump-room to discover that the crowd
was insupportable, and that there was not a genteel
face to be seen, which everybody discovers every Sunday
throughout the season, they hastened away to the Crescent,
to breathe the fresh air of better company. Here Catherine
and Isabella, arm in arm, again tasted the sweets of
friendship in an unreserved conversation; they talked much,
and with much
enjoyment; but again was Catherine disappointed
in her hope of re
seeing her
partner. He was
nowhere to be
met with; every search for him was
equally unsuccessful,
in morning lounges or evening assemblies; neither at
the upper nor lower rooms, at dressed or undressed balls,
was he perceivable; nor among the walkers, the horsemen,
or the curricle-drivers of the morning. His name was not
in the pump-room book, and
curiosity could do no more.
He must be gone from Bath. Yet he had not mentioned that
his stay would be so short! This sort of mysteriousness,
which is always so becoming in a hero, threw a fresh grace
in Catherine's
imagination around his person and manners,
and increased her
anxiety to know more of him.
From the Thorpes she could learn nothing, for they had been
only two days in Bath before they met with Mrs. Allen.
It was a subject, however, in which she often indulged
with her fair friend, from whom she received every possible
encouragement to continue to think of him; and his impression
on her fancy was not suffered
therefore to weaken.
Isabella was very sure that he must be a
charming young man,
and was
equally sure that he must have been
delighted with
her dear Catherine, and would
thereforeshortly return.
She liked him the better for being a
clergyman, "for she
must
confess herself very
partial to the profession";
and something like a sigh escaped her as she said it.
Perhaps Catherine was wrong in not demanding the cause
of that gentle emotion--but she was not
experienced enough
in the finesse of love, or the duties of friendship,
to know when
delicate raillery was
properly called for,
or when a confidence should be forced.
Mrs. Allen was now quite happy--quite satisfied
with Bath. She had found some
acquaintance, had been
so lucky too as to find in them the family of a most
worthy old friend; and, as the
completion of good fortune,
had found these friends by no means so expensively dressed
as herself. Her daily expressions were no longer, "I wish
we had some
acquaintance in Bath!" They were changed into,
"How glad I am we have met with Mrs. Thorpe!" and she was
as eager in promoting the
intercourse of the two families,
as her young
charge and Isabella themselves could be;
never satisfied with the day unless she spent the
chief of it by the side of Mrs. Thorpe, in what they
called conversation, but in which there was scarcely ever
any exchange of opinion, and not often any resemblance
of subject, for Mrs. Thorpe talked
chiefly of her children,
and Mrs. Allen of her gowns.
The progress of the friendship between Catherine
and Isabella was quick as its
beginning had been warm,
and they passed so rapidly through every gradation