章节正文
had left her intent; and of her continuing on the best
terms with James. Her only dependence for information
of any kind was on Isabella. James had protested against
writing to her till his return to Oxford; and Mrs. Allen
had given her no hopes of a letter till she had got back
to Fullerton. But Isabella had promised and promised again;
and when she promised a thing, she was so scrupulous
in performing it! This made it so particularly strange!
For nine successive mornings, Catherine wondered
over the repetition of a disappointment, which each
morning became more severe: but, on the tenth, when she
entered the breakfast-room, her first object was a letter,
held out by Henry's willing hand. She thanked him
as heartily as if he had written it himself. "'Tis only
from James, however," as she looked at the direction.
She opened it; it was from Oxford; and to this purpose:
"Dear Catherine,
"Though, God knows, with little inclination
for writing, I think it my duty to tell you that
everything is at an end between Miss Thorpe and me.
I left her and Bath yesterday, never to see either
again. I shall not enter into particulars--they
would only pain you more. You will soon hear enough
from another quarter to know where lies the blame;
and I hope will acquit your brother of everything
but the folly of too easily thinking his affection
returned. Thank God! I am undeceived in time! But
it is a heavy blow! After my father's consent had
been so kindly given--but no more of this. She has
made me miserable forever! Let me soon hear from
you, dear Catherine; you are my only friend; your
love I do build upon. I wish your visit at Northanger
may be over before Captain Tilney makes his engagement
known, or you will be uncomfortably circumstanced.
Poor Thorpe is in town: I dread the sight of him;
his honest heart would feel so much. I have written
to him and my father. Her duplicity hurts me more
than all; till the very last, if I reasoned with
her, she declared herself as much attached to me as
ever, and laughed at my fears. I am ashamed to
think how long I bore with it; but if ever man had
reason to believe himself loved, I was that man.
I cannot understand even now what she would be at,
for there could be no need of my being played off
to make her secure of Tilney. We parted at last by
mutual consent--happy for me had we never met! I
can never expect to know such another woman! Dearest
Catherine, beware how you give your heart.
"Believe me," &c.
Catherine had not read three lines before her sudden
change of countenance, and short exclamations of sorrowing
wonder, declared her to be receiving unpleasant news;
and Henry, earnestly watching her through the whole letter,
saw plainly that it ended no better than it began.
He was prevented, however, from even looking his surprise
by his father's entrance. They went to breakfast directly;
but Catherine could hardly eat anything. Tears filled
her eyes, and even ran down her cheeks as she sat.
The letter was one moment in her hand, then in her lap,
and then in her pocket; and she looked as if she knew
not what she did. The general, between his cocoa and
his newspaper, had luckily no leisure for noticing her;
but to the other two her distress was equally visible.
As soon as she dared leave the table she hurried away
to her own room; but the housemaids were busy in it,
and she was obliged to come down again. She turned
into the drawing-room for privacy, but Henry and Eleanor
had likewise retreated thither, and were at that moment
deep in consultation about her. She drew back,
trying to beg their pardon, but was, with gentle violence,
forced to return; and the others withdrew, after Eleanor had
affectionately expressed a wish of being of use or comfort
to her.
After half an hour's free indulgence of grief and
reflection, Catherine felt equal to encountering her friends;
but whether she should make her distress known to them was
another consideration. Perhaps, if particularly questioned,
she might just give an idea--just distantly hint at
it--but not more. To expose a friend, such a friend
as Isabella had been to her--and then their own brother
so closely concerned in it! She believed she must waive
the subject altogether. Henry and Eleanor were by themselves
in the breakfast-room; and each, as she entered it,
looked at her anxiously. Catherine took her place at
the table, and, after a short silence, Eleanor said, "No bad
news from Fullerton, I hope? Mr. and Mrs. Morland--your
brothers and sisters--I hope they are none of them ill?"
"No, I thank you" (sighing as she spoke); "they are
all very well. My letter was from my brother at Oxford."
Nothing further was said for a few minutes; and then
speaking through her tears, she added, "I do not think
I shall ever wish for a letter again!"
"I am sorry," said Henry, closing the book he had
just opened; "if I had suspected the letter of containing
anything unwelcome, I should have given it with very different feelings."
"It contained something worse than anybody could
suppose! Poor James is so unhappy! You will soon know why."
"To have so kind-hearted, so affectionate a sister,"
replied Henry warmly, "must be a comfort to him under
any distress."
"I have one favour to beg," said Catherine,
shortly afterwards, in an agitated manner, "that, if
your brother should be coming here, you will give
me notice of it, that I may go away."
"Our brother! Frederick!"
"Yes; I am sure I should be very sorry to leave you
so soon, but something has happened that would make it very
dreadful for me to be in the same house with Captain Tilney."
Eleanor's work was suspended while she gazed with
increasing astonishment; but Henry began to suspect the truth,
and something, in which Miss Thorpe's name was included,
passed his lips.
"How quick you are!" cried Catherine: "you have
guessed it, I declare! And yet, when we talked about
it in Bath, you little thought of its ending so.
Isabella--no wonder now I have not heard from her--Isabella
has deserted my brother, and is to marry yours! Could
you have believed there had been such inconstancy
and fickleness, and everything that is bad in the world?"
"I hope, so far as concerns my brother, you are misinformed.
I hope he has not had any material share in bringing on
Mr. Morland's disappointment. His marrying Miss Thorpe
is not probable. I think you must be deceived so far.
I am very sorry for Mr. Morland--sorry that anyone you
love should be unhappy; but my surprise would be greater
at Frederick's marrying her than at any other part of the story."
"It is very true, however; you shall read
James's letter yourself. Stay-- There is one part--"
recollecting with a blush the last line.
"Will you take the trouble of reading to us
the passages which concern my brother?"
"No, read it yourself," cried Catherine, whose second
thoughts were clearer. "I do not know what I was
thinking of" (blushing again that she had blushed before);
"James only means to give me good advice."
He gladly received the letter, and, having read
it through, with close attention, returned it saying,
"Well, if it is to be so, I can only say that I am sorry
for it. Frederick will not be the first man who has
chosen a wife with less sense than his family expected.
I do not envy his situation, either as a lover or a son."
Miss Tilney, at Catherine's invitation, now read
the letter likewise, and, having expressed also her
concern and surprise, began to inquire into Miss Thorpe's
connections and fortune.
"Her mother is a very good sort of woman,"
was Catherine's answer.
"What was her father?"
"A lawyer, I believe. They live at Putney."
"Are they a wealthy family?"
"No, not very. I do not believe Isabella has any
fortune at all: but that will not signify in your family.
Your father is so very liberal! He told me the other day
that he only valued money as it allowed him to promote the
happiness of his children." The brother and sister looked
at each other. "But," said Eleanor, after a short pause,
"would it be to promote his happiness, to enable him
to marry such a girl? She must be an unprincipled one,
or she could not have used your brother so. And how
strange an infatuation on Frederick's side! A girl who,
before his eyes, is violating an engagement voluntarily
entered into with another man! Is not it inconceivable,
Henry? Frederick too, who always wore his heart so proudly!
Who found no woman good enough to be loved!"
"That is the most unpromising circumstance,
the strongest presumption against him. When I think
of his past declarations, I give him up. Moreover, I have
too good an opinion of Miss Thorpe's prudence to suppose
that she would part with one gentleman before the other
was secured. It is all over with Frederick indeed! He is
a deceased man--defunct in understanding. Prepare for your
sister-in-law, Eleanor, and such a sister-in-law as you must
delight in! Open, candid, artless, guileless, with affections
strong but simple, forming no pretensions, and knowing no disguise."
"Such a sister-in-law, Henry, I should delight in,"
said Eleanor with a smile.
"But perhaps," observed Catherine, "though she has
behaved so ill by our family, she may behave better
by yours. Now she has really got the man she likes,
she may be constant."
"Indeed I am afraid she will," replied Henry;
"I am afraid she will be very constant, unless a baronet
should come in her way; that is Frederick's only chance.
I will get the Bath paper, and look over the arrivals."
"You think it is all for ambition, then? And,
upon my word, there are some things that seem very like it.
I cannot forget that, when she first knew what my father
would do for them, she seemed quite disappointed that it
was not more. I never was so deceived in anyone's character
in my life before."
"Among all the great variety that you have known
and studied."
"My own disappointment and loss in her is very great;
but, as for poor James, I suppose he will hardly ever
recover it."
"Your brother is certainly very much to be pitied
at present; but we must not, in our concern for
his sufferings, undervalue yours. You feel, I suppose,
that in losing Isabella, you lose half yourself: you feel
a void in your heart which nothing else can occupy.
Society is becoming irksome; and as for the amusements
terms with James. Her only dependence for information
of any kind was on Isabella. James had protested against
writing to her till his return to Oxford; and Mrs. Allen
had given her no hopes of a letter till she had got back
to Fullerton. But Isabella had promised and promised again;
and when she promised a thing, she was so scrupulous
in performing it! This made it so particularly strange!
For nine successive mornings, Catherine wondered
over the repetition of a disappointment, which each
morning became more severe: but, on the tenth, when she
entered the breakfast-room, her first object was a letter,
held out by Henry's willing hand. She thanked him
as heartily as if he had written it himself. "'Tis only
from James, however," as she looked at the direction.
She opened it; it was from Oxford; and to this purpose:
"Dear Catherine,
"Though, God knows, with little inclination
for writing, I think it my duty to tell you that
everything is at an end between Miss Thorpe and me.
I left her and Bath yesterday, never to see either
again. I shall not enter into particulars--they
would only pain you more. You will soon hear enough
from another quarter to know where lies the blame;
and I hope will acquit your brother of everything
but the folly of too easily thinking his affection
returned. Thank God! I am undeceived in time! But
it is a heavy blow! After my father's consent had
been so kindly given--but no more of this. She has
made me miserable forever! Let me soon hear from
you, dear Catherine; you are my only friend; your
love I do build upon. I wish your visit at Northanger
may be over before Captain Tilney makes his engagement
known, or you will be uncomfortably circumstanced.
Poor Thorpe is in town: I dread the sight of him;
his honest heart would feel so much. I have written
to him and my father. Her duplicity hurts me more
than all; till the very last, if I reasoned with
her, she declared herself as much attached to me as
ever, and laughed at my fears. I am ashamed to
think how long I bore with it; but if ever man had
reason to believe himself loved, I was that man.
I cannot understand even now what she would be at,
for there could be no need of my being played off
to make her secure of Tilney. We parted at last by
mutual consent--happy for me had we never met! I
can never expect to know such another woman! Dearest
Catherine, beware how you give your heart.
"Believe me," &c.
Catherine had not read three lines before her sudden
change of countenance, and short exclamations of sorrowing
wonder, declared her to be receiving unpleasant news;
and Henry, earnestly watching her through the whole letter,
saw plainly that it ended no better than it began.
He was prevented, however, from even looking his surprise
by his father's entrance. They went to breakfast directly;
but Catherine could hardly eat anything. Tears filled
her eyes, and even ran down her cheeks as she sat.
The letter was one moment in her hand, then in her lap,
and then in her pocket; and she looked as if she knew
not what she did. The general, between his cocoa and
his newspaper, had luckily no leisure for noticing her;
but to the other two her distress was equally visible.
As soon as she dared leave the table she hurried away
to her own room; but the housemaids were busy in it,
and she was obliged to come down again. She turned
into the drawing-room for privacy, but Henry and Eleanor
had likewise retreated thither, and were at that moment
deep in consultation about her. She drew back,
trying to beg their pardon, but was, with gentle violence,
forced to return; and the others withdrew, after Eleanor had
affectionately expressed a wish of being of use or comfort
to her.
After half an hour's free indulgence of grief and
reflection, Catherine felt equal to encountering her friends;
but whether she should make her distress known to them was
another consideration. Perhaps, if particularly questioned,
she might just give an idea--just distantly hint at
it--but not more. To expose a friend, such a friend
as Isabella had been to her--and then their own brother
so closely concerned in it! She believed she must waive
the subject altogether. Henry and Eleanor were by themselves
in the breakfast-room; and each, as she entered it,
looked at her anxiously. Catherine took her place at
the table, and, after a short silence, Eleanor said, "No bad
news from Fullerton, I hope? Mr. and Mrs. Morland--your
brothers and sisters--I hope they are none of them ill?"
"No, I thank you" (sighing as she spoke); "they are
all very well. My letter was from my brother at Oxford."
Nothing further was said for a few minutes; and then
speaking through her tears, she added, "I do not think
I shall ever wish for a letter again!"
"I am sorry," said Henry, closing the book he had
just opened; "if I had suspected the letter of containing
anything unwelcome, I should have given it with very different feelings."
"It contained something worse than anybody could
suppose! Poor James is so unhappy! You will soon know why."
"To have so kind-hearted, so affectionate a sister,"
replied Henry warmly, "must be a comfort to him under
any distress."
"I have one favour to beg," said Catherine,
shortly afterwards, in an agitated manner, "that, if
your brother should be coming here, you will give
me notice of it, that I may go away."
"Our brother! Frederick!"
"Yes; I am sure I should be very sorry to leave you
so soon, but something has happened that would make it very
dreadful for me to be in the same house with Captain Tilney."
Eleanor's work was suspended while she gazed with
increasing astonishment; but Henry began to suspect the truth,
and something, in which Miss Thorpe's name was included,
passed his lips.
"How quick you are!" cried Catherine: "you have
guessed it, I declare! And yet, when we talked about
it in Bath, you little thought of its ending so.
Isabella--no wonder now I have not heard from her--Isabella
has deserted my brother, and is to marry yours! Could
you have believed there had been such inconstancy
and fickleness, and everything that is bad in the world?"
"I hope, so far as concerns my brother, you are misinformed.
I hope he has not had any material share in bringing on
Mr. Morland's disappointment. His marrying Miss Thorpe
is not probable. I think you must be deceived so far.
I am very sorry for Mr. Morland--sorry that anyone you
love should be unhappy; but my surprise would be greater
at Frederick's marrying her than at any other part of the story."
"It is very true, however; you shall read
James's letter yourself. Stay-- There is one part--"
recollecting with a blush the last line.
"Will you take the trouble of reading to us
the passages which concern my brother?"
"No, read it yourself," cried Catherine, whose second
thoughts were clearer. "I do not know what I was
thinking of" (blushing again that she had blushed before);
"James only means to give me good advice."
He gladly received the letter, and, having read
it through, with close attention, returned it saying,
"Well, if it is to be so, I can only say that I am sorry
for it. Frederick will not be the first man who has
chosen a wife with less sense than his family expected.
I do not envy his situation, either as a lover or a son."
Miss Tilney, at Catherine's invitation, now read
the letter likewise, and, having expressed also her
concern and surprise, began to inquire into Miss Thorpe's
connections and fortune.
"Her mother is a very good sort of woman,"
was Catherine's answer.
"What was her father?"
"A lawyer, I believe. They live at Putney."
"Are they a wealthy family?"
"No, not very. I do not believe Isabella has any
fortune at all: but that will not signify in your family.
Your father is so very liberal! He told me the other day
that he only valued money as it allowed him to promote the
happiness of his children." The brother and sister looked
at each other. "But," said Eleanor, after a short pause,
"would it be to promote his happiness, to enable him
to marry such a girl? She must be an unprincipled one,
or she could not have used your brother so. And how
strange an infatuation on Frederick's side! A girl who,
before his eyes, is violating an engagement voluntarily
entered into with another man! Is not it inconceivable,
Henry? Frederick too, who always wore his heart so proudly!
Who found no woman good enough to be loved!"
"That is the most unpromising circumstance,
the strongest presumption against him. When I think
of his past declarations, I give him up. Moreover, I have
too good an opinion of Miss Thorpe's prudence to suppose
that she would part with one gentleman before the other
was secured. It is all over with Frederick indeed! He is
a deceased man--defunct in understanding. Prepare for your
sister-in-law, Eleanor, and such a sister-in-law as you must
delight in! Open, candid, artless, guileless, with affections
strong but simple, forming no pretensions, and knowing no disguise."
"Such a sister-in-law, Henry, I should delight in,"
said Eleanor with a smile.
"But perhaps," observed Catherine, "though she has
behaved so ill by our family, she may behave better
by yours. Now she has really got the man she likes,
she may be constant."
"Indeed I am afraid she will," replied Henry;
"I am afraid she will be very constant, unless a baronet
should come in her way; that is Frederick's only chance.
I will get the Bath paper, and look over the arrivals."
"You think it is all for ambition, then? And,
upon my word, there are some things that seem very like it.
I cannot forget that, when she first knew what my father
would do for them, she seemed quite disappointed that it
was not more. I never was so deceived in anyone's character
in my life before."
"Among all the great variety that you have known
and studied."
"My own disappointment and loss in her is very great;
but, as for poor James, I suppose he will hardly ever
recover it."
"Your brother is certainly very much to be pitied
at present; but we must not, in our concern for
his sufferings, undervalue yours. You feel, I suppose,
that in losing Isabella, you lose half yourself: you feel
a void in your heart which nothing else can occupy.
Society is becoming irksome; and as for the amusements
- intent [in´tent]
a.专心致志的 n.意图 (初中英语单词) - disappointment [,disə´pɔintmənt] n.失望；挫折 (初中英语单词)
- severe [si´viə] a.严厉的；苛刻的 (初中英语单词)
- willing [´wiliŋ] a.情愿的，乐意的 (初中英语单词)
- writing [´raitiŋ] n.书写；写作；书法 (初中英语单词)
- yesterday [´jestədi] n.&ad.昨天；前不久 (初中英语单词)
- miserable [´mizərəbəl] a.悲惨的；可怜的 (初中英语单词)
- ashamed [ə´ʃeimd] a.惭愧；不好意思 (初中英语单词)
- countenance [´kauntinəns] n.面部表情；脸色；面容 (初中英语单词)
- plainly [´pleinli] ad.平坦地；简单地 (初中英语单词)
- distress [di´stres] n.痛苦 vt.使苦恼 (初中英语单词)
- equally [´i:kwəli] ad.相等地；平等地 (初中英语单词)
- likewise [´laikwaiz] ad.同样地；也，又 (初中英语单词)
- thither [´ðiðə] ad.到那里 a.那边的 (初中英语单词)
- pardon [´pɑ:dən] n.&vt.原谅；饶恕；赦免 (初中英语单词)
- consideration [kən,sidə´reiʃən] n.考虑；原因；体谅 (初中英语单词)
- expose [ik´spəuz] vt.揭露，暴露；陈列 (初中英语单词)
- altogether [,ɔ:ltə´geðə] ad.完全；总而言之 (初中英语单词)
- astonishment [ə´stɔniʃmənt] n.吃惊；惊异 (初中英语单词)
- suspect [´sʌspekt, sə´spekt] v.怀疑；觉得 n.嫌疑犯 (初中英语单词)
- probable [´prɔbəbəl] a.大概的n.很可能的事 (初中英语单词)
- unhappy [ʌn´hæpi] a.不幸的；不快乐的 (初中英语单词)
- reading [´ri:diŋ] n.(阅)读；朗读；读物 (初中英语单词)
- invitation [,invi´teiʃən] n.邀请；请帖；吸引 (初中英语单词)
- lawyer [´lɔ:jə] n.律师；法学家 (初中英语单词)
- wealthy [´welθi] a.富有的；丰富的 (初中英语单词)
- promote [prə´məut] vt.促进；发扬；助长 (初中英语单词)
- enable [i´neibəl] vt.使能够；赋予权力 (初中英语单词)
- engagement [in´geidʒmənt] n.婚约；雇用；受聘 (初中英语单词)
- moreover [mɔ:´rəuvə] ad.再者，此外，而且 (初中英语单词)
- knowing [´nəuiŋ] a.会意的，心照不宣的 (初中英语单词)
- behave [bi´heiv] v.举止；表现；举止端正 (初中英语单词)
- constant [´kɔnstənt] a.坚定的；坚贞的 (初中英语单词)
- ambition [æm´biʃən] n.雄心，野心；企图 (初中英语单词)
- variety [və´raiəti] n.变化；多样(性)；种类 (初中英语单词)
- oxford [´ɔksfəd] n.牛津 (高中英语单词)
- successive [sək´sesiv] a.相继的；接连的 (高中英语单词)
- repetition [,repi´tiʃən] n.重复；背诵；复制品 (高中英语单词)
- heartily [´hɑ:tili] ad.衷心地；亲切地 (高中英语单词)
- beware [bi´weə] v.(用于祈使句)谨防 (高中英语单词)
- unpleasant [ʌn´plezənt] a.不愉快的；不合意的 (高中英语单词)
- earnestly [´ə:nistli] ad.认真地；急切地 (高中英语单词)
- leisure [´leʒə] n.空闲；悠闲；安定 (高中英语单词)
- hurried [´hʌrid] a.仓促的，慌忙的 (高中英语单词)
- withdrew [wið´dru:] withdraw的过去式 (高中英语单词)
- concerned [kən´sə:nd] a.有关的；担心的 (高中英语单词)
- anxiously [´æŋkʃəsli] ad.挂念地；渴望地 (高中英语单词)
- affectionate [ə´fekʃənit] a.亲爱的 (高中英语单词)
- ending [´endiŋ] n.结尾，结局 (高中英语单词)
- gladly [´glædli] ad.愉快地，高兴地 (高中英语单词)
- signify [´signifai] vt.表示 vi.有重要性 (高中英语单词)
- presumption [pri´zʌmpʃən] n.推测；专横；冒昧 (高中英语单词)
- acquit [ə´kwit] vt.无罪开释 (英语四级单词)
- privacy [´praivəsi, -pri] n.隐退；独处；秘密 (英语四级单词)
- consultation [,kɔnsəl´teiʃən] n.商量；会诊；查阅 (英语四级单词)
- indulgence [in´dʌldʒəns] n.沉迷；宽容；恩惠 (英语四级单词)
- prudence [´pru:dəns] n.谨慎；慎重；节俭 (英语四级单词)
- dependence [di´pendəns] n.信赖，依赖 (英语六级单词)
- unwelcome [ʌn´welkəm] a.不受欢迎的 n.冷淡 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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