by Jane Austen
CHAPTER 18
With a mind thus full of happiness, Catherine was hardly aware that twoor three days had passed away, without her seeing Isabella for more thana few minutes together. She began first to be sensible of this, andto sigh for her conversation, as she walked along the pump-room onemorning, by Mrs. Allen's side, without anything to say or to hear; andscarcely had she felt a five minutes' longing of friendship, before theobject of it appeared, and inviting her to a secret conference, led theway to a seat. "This is my favourite place," said she as they satdown on a bench between the doors, which commanded a tolerable view ofeverybody entering at either; "it is so out of the way."
Catherine, observing that Isabella's eyes were continually bent towardsone door or the other, as in eager expectation, and remembering howoften she had been falsely accused of being arch, thought the present afine opportunity for being really so; and therefore gaily said, "Do notbe uneasy, Isabella, James will soon be here."
"Psha! My dear creature," she replied, "do not think me such a simpletonas to be always wanting to confine him to my elbow. It would be hideousto be always together; we should be the jest of the place. And so youare going to Northanger! I am amazingly glad of it. It is one of thefinest old places in England, I understand. I shall depend upon a mostparticular description of it."
"You shall certainly have the best in my power to give. But who are youlooking for? Are your sisters coming?"
"I am not looking for anybody. One's eyes must be somewhere, and youknow what a foolish trick I have of fixing mine, when my thoughts are anhundred miles off. I am amazingly absent; I believe I am the most absentcreature in the world. Tilney says it is always the case with minds of acertain stamp."
"But I thought, Isabella, you had something in particular to tell me?"
"Oh! Yes, and so I have. But here is a proof of what I was saying. Mypoor head, I had quite forgot it. Well, the thing is this: I have justhad a letter from John; you can guess the contents."
"No, indeed, I cannot."
"My sweet love, do not be so abominably affected. What can he writeabout, but yourself? You know he is over head and ears in love withyou."
"With me, dear Isabella!"
"Nay, my sweetest Catherine, this is being quite absurd! Modesty, andall that, is very well in its way, but really a little common honesty issometimes quite as becoming. I have no idea of being so overstrained!It is fishing for compliments. His attentions were such as a child musthave noticed. And it was but half an hour before he left Bath that yougave him the most positive encouragement. He says so in this letter,says that he as good as made you an offer, and that you received hisadvances in the kindest way; and now he wants me to urge his suit,and say all manner of pretty things to you. So it is in vain to affectignorance."
Catherine, with all the earnestness of truth, expressed her astonishmentat such a charge, protesting her innocence of every thought of Mr.Thorpe's being in love with her, and the consequent impossibility ofher having ever intended to encourage him. "As to any attentions on hisside, I do declare, upon my honour, I never was sensible of them for amoment--except just his asking me to dance the first day of his coming.And as to making me an offer, or anything like it, there must be someunaccountable mistake. I could not have misunderstood a thing of thatkind, you know! And, as I ever wish to be believed, I solemnly protestthat no syllable of such a nature ever passed between us. The last halfhour before he went away! It must be all and completely a mistake--for Idid not see him once that whole morning."
"But that you certainly did, for you spent the whole morning in Edgar'sBuildings--it was the day your father's consent came--and I am prettysure that you and John were alone in the parlour some time before youleft the house."
"Are you? Well, if you say it, it was so, I dare say--but for the lifeof me, I cannot recollect it. I do remember now being with you, andseeing him as well as the rest--but that we were ever alone for fiveminutes--However, it is not worth arguing about, for whatever might passon his side, you must be convinced, by my having no recollection of it,that I never thought, nor expected, nor wished for anything of the kindfrom him. I am excessively concerned that he should have any regard forme--but indeed it has been quite unintentional on my side; I never hadthe smallest idea of it. Pray undeceive him as soon as you can, and tellhim I beg his pardon--that is--I do not know what I ought to say--butmake him understand what I mean, in the properest way. I would not speakdisrespectfully of a brother of yours, Isabella, I am sure; but you knowvery well that if I could think of one man more than another--he is notthe person." Isabella was silent. "My dear friend, you must not be angrywith me. I cannot suppose your brother cares so very much about me. And,you know, we shall still be sisters."
"Yes, yes" (with a blush), "there are more ways than one of our beingsisters. But where am I wandering to? Well, my dear Catherine, the caseseems to be that you are determined against poor John--is not it so?"
"I certainly cannot return his affection, and as certainly never meantto encourage it."
"Since that is the case, I am sure I shall not tease you any further.John desired me to speak to you on the subject, and therefore I have.But I confess, as soon as I read his letter, I thought it a veryfoolish, imprudent business, and not likely to promote the good ofeither; for what were you to live upon, supposing you came together? Youhave both of you something, to be sure, but it is not a trifle that willsupport a family nowadays; and after all that romancers may say, thereis no doing without money. I only wonder John could think of it; hecould not have received my last."
"You do acquit me, then, of anything wrong?--You are convinced that Inever meant to deceive your brother, never suspected him of liking metill this moment?"
"Oh! As to that," answered Isabella laughingly, "I do not pretend todetermine what your thoughts and designs in time past may have been. Allthat is best known to yourself. A little harmless flirtation or so willoccur, and one is often drawn on to give more encouragement than onewishes to stand by. But you may be assured that I am the last person inthe world to judge you severely. All those things should be allowed forin youth and high spirits. What one means one day, you know, one may notmean the next. Circumstances change, opinions alter."
"But my opinion of your brother never did alter; it was always the same.You are describing what never happened."
"My dearest Catherine," continued the other without at all listening toher, "I would not for all the world be the means of hurrying you into anengagement before you knew what you were about. I do not think anythingwould justify me in wishing you to sacrifice all your happiness merelyto oblige my brother, because he is my brother, and who perhaps afterall, you know, might be just as happy without you, for people seldomknow what they would be at, young men especially, they are so amazinglychangeable and inconstant. What I say is, why should a brother'shappiness be dearer to me than a friend's? You know I carry my notionsof friendship pretty high. But, above all things, my dear Catherine, donot be in a hurry. Take my word for it, that if you are in too greata hurry, you will certainly live to repent it. Tilney says there isnothing people are so often deceived in as the state of their ownaffections, and I believe he is very right. Ah! Here he comes; nevermind, he will not see us, I am sure."
Catherine, looking up, perceived Captain Tilney; and Isabella,earnestly fixing her eye on him as she spoke, soon caught his notice. Heapproached immediately, and took the seat to which her movements invitedhim. His first address made Catherine start. Though spoken low, shecould distinguish, "What! Always to be watched, in person or by proxy!"
"Psha, nonsense!" was Isabella's answer in the same half whisper. "Whydo you put such things into my head? If I could believe it--my spirit,you know, is pretty independent."
"I wish your heart were independent. That would be enough for me."
"My heart, indeed! What can you have to do with hearts? You men havenone of you any hearts."
"If we have not hearts, we have eyes; and they give us torment enough."
"Do they? I am sorry for it; I am sorry they find anything sodisagreeable in me. I will look another way. I hope this pleases you"(turning her back on him); "I hope your eyes are not tormented now."
"Never more so; for the edge of a blooming cheek is still in view--atonce too much and too little."
Catherine heard all this, and quite out of countenance, could listenno longer. Amazed that Isabella could endure it, and jealous for herbrother, she rose up, and saying she should join Mrs. Allen, proposedtheir walking. But for this Isabella showed no inclination. She was soamazingly tired, and it was so odious to parade about the pump-room;and if she moved from her seat she should miss her sisters; she wasexpecting her sisters every moment; so that her dearest Catherine mustexcuse her, and must sit quietly down again. But Catherine could bestubborn too; and Mrs. Allen just then coming up to propose theirreturning home, she joined her and walked out of the pump-room, leavingIsabella still sitting with Captain Tilney. With much uneasiness didshe thus leave them. It seemed to her that Captain Tilney was fallingin love with Isabella, and Isabella unconsciously encouraging him;unconsciously it must be, for Isabella's attachment to James was ascertain and well acknowledged as her engagement. To doubt her truthor good intentions was impossible; and yet, during the whole of theirconversation her manner had been odd. She wished Isabella had talkedmore like her usual self, and not so much about money, and had notlooked so well pleased at the sight of Captain Tilney. How strange thatshe should not perceive his admiration! Catherine longed to give her ahint of it, to put her on her guard, and prevent all the pain whichher too lively behaviour might otherwise create both for him and herbrother.
The compliment of John Thorpe's affection did not make amends for thisthoughtlessness in his sister. She was almost as far from believing asfrom wishing it to be sincere; for she had not forgotten that hecould mistake, and his assertion of the offer and of her encouragementconvinced her that his mistakes could sometimes be very egregious.In vanity, therefore, she gained but little; her chief profit was inwonder. That he should think it worth his while to fancy himself in lovewith her was a matter of lively astonishment. Isabella talked of hisattentions; she had never been sensible of any; but Isabella had saidmany things which she hoped had been spoken in haste, and would neverbe said again; and upon this she was glad to rest altogether for presentease and comfort.