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My father had ensured that I took Miss Barton in to dinner, whereupon she flirted outrageously with every wealthy man at the table. After dinner she flirted with Frederick in the drawing room and he was in a mood to indulge her, but if she thinks she will catch him, she is mistaken. She is just the sort of woman he has no time for. He said as much when we retired for the night.

‘If she chooses to make a fool of herself, that is her concern,’ he said. ‘Women are fools, all of them.’

‘Eleanor is not a fool.’

‘Eleanor is a sister,’ he returned.

‘There are other sisters in the world, are there not? Perhaps one amongst them will be worthy of your love.’

He looked at me pityingly and said only, ‘You will learn.’

I was not happy with this reply.

‘I wish you would not always see things in such a dark light,’ I said impatiently.

‘Worried for my heart, little brother?’ he asked mockingly.

‘That, and my own well-being. If you marry, Papa will stop pestering me to do so. With an heir in the cradle he will be content to let me take my time, instead of introducing me to every wealthy or well-connected young woman he knows.’

‘And why should that trouble you? You are an admirer of the fair sex.’

‘But not at all hours of the day, in all situations. There are times when I do not want to be introduced to yet another damsel who can talk of nothing but her embroidery.’

‘So that is what Miss Barton was talking to you about!’ he said with a wry smile.

I laughed.

‘In Miss Barton’s case, I wished she would talk of her embroidery! I am as fond of nonsense as the next man, and can talk it by the hour if required, but Miss Barton’s kind of nonsense fatigues me, particularly when it is only said for the ears of other men.’

‘So, you object to her using you to attract other, wealthier men, dear brother? Your lessons in love have just begun.’

There was no arguing with him and so I took myself off to bed.

Saturday 10 November

The weather being fine, Eleanor and I escaped our guests this afternoon and, warmly wrapped, retreated to the arbour. Glad that she had overcome her aversion to A Sicilian Romance, I suggested we continue with it but Eleanor looked conscious and went pink and said she rather thought we might wait.

‘Wait? For what?’ I asked, though I had more than a passing suspicion.

‘Not what. Whom,’ she said.

I looked at her with interest.

‘Am I to take it that you are expecting Mr Morris?’ I asked.

‘I happened to mention that we were in the custom of sitting in the arbour when the weather was fine, and I believe he saw us through the window and noticed the direction in which we were heading.’

‘And I suppose you also told him he would be welcome to join us?’

‘Is he not?’

‘My dear Eleanor, you know as well as I do that he is. You are free to invite anyone you wish to join us, and I would suffer a much worse man for your sake. Are you fond of him?’ I asked curiously.

‘I have only just met him. I hardly know him,’ she replied.

‘That is not an answer. It is possible to be fond of a person one has only just met, and dislike very strongly a person one knows well.’

‘That is very true. I do not wish to commit myself on so short an acquaintance, and so I will say only this: that I find him interesting and pleasant to look at.’

Only this? It is a very great deal, especially from you, who are so particular. It is the curse of the Tilneys to be very particular. We all three suffer from it, you and Frederick no less than myself. I have not heard you say so much in favour of a man since – well, ever.’

‘Do you not like him then?’ she asked. ‘I rather thought you did.’

‘He is good company, I will grant you, or I suspect he will be, once he has overcome the last of his shyness. Amusing on occasion. A gentleman in his address. But too easily put upon. How he came to lend Frederick money is beyond me. He must, I think, be deficient in sense.’

‘No, not that. Just deficient in the ability to refuse a favour.’

‘As failings go, that is a bad one. It is not conducive to happiness. Though I must confess I am surprised at Frederick. He usually borrows money from wealthy men. It is unlike him to stoop so low as to borrow from someone impecunious.’

‘As to that, there was some confusion. Mr Morris’s uncle is a viscount, and somehow Frederick had mistaken Mr Morris for the viscount’s son, a very wealthy young man. There is a family resemblance, it seems.’

‘And Mr Morris did not disabuse him of his mistake?’

‘When he discovered it, yes. But by then it was too late. The money was already lent.’

‘And already spent?’ I asked.

‘Unfortunately so, which is why Frederick invited Mr Morris to Northanger Abbey, to make amends.’

‘But whether that will be a good thing or a bad thing remains to be seen. Papa will not countenance a match, you know. He wants you to marry a man of standing, of great wealth and grand position. Someone who will bring renown to the name of Tilney, and, through marriage, add vast estates to our own.’

‘Yes, I know he does, but you go too fast. I have only just met Mr Morris, and although I will confess to having had some conversation with him this morning when you were out with your dogs, I know very little of him and he knows very little of me. There has been no talk of marriage, nor will there be for a very long time, if at all.’

‘But it could happen. Guard yourself, Eleanor. I would not want to see you hurt.’

We sat for some time but, as Mr Morris did not appear, Eleanor at last suggested we continue. She read ever more eagerly as we followed poor Julia’s adventures, and so engrossed were we that we did not notice the arrival of Mr Morris until he cleared his throat.

I looked at him with new eyes. He was handsome enough, with a good bearing and a neat style of dress; nothing ostentatious and yet not shabby; and I wondered how I felt about the idea of his becoming my brother-in-law. His gaze, as it fell on Eleanor, was rapt, and that was a point in his favour, for anyone who marries Eleanor must adore her to have my blessing.

‘Mr Morris. This is a surprise,’ I remarked.

He tore his gaze away from Eleanor, who had flushed, and made his bow.

‘I hope I am not intruding,’ he said.

‘Not at all. We hoped you would join us, did we not, Eleanor?’ I said.

‘We did, indeed.’

He looked surprised and bashfully pleased. This endeared him even more to Eleanor, who invited him to sit down.

‘I see you have brought your book with you.’

‘I rather hoped we might ... that is to say, it was most enjoyable to share the novel ... I do so enjoy reading aloud ... I thought we might do it again.’

‘By all means,’ said Eleanor.

‘I must confess,’ he said, ‘that is to say, I could not sleep and so I succumbed to temptation and read some further passages.’

‘So did we!’ said Eleanor. ‘That is, we have read on this morning.’

‘Ah! Then you know that Julia, helped by her faithful servant, escaped from the marquis and fled to a convent?’ he asked.

‘Yes, we do. And do you know about Hippolitus?’ I asked.

‘That he is alive, having only been severely wounded and not killed? Yes, I know,’ he said. ‘Also, that he sent an emissary to the castle to discover what had happened to Julia, and, finding that she had escaped, he followed her to the convent – only to find that she had fled the convent when the cruel Abate had tried to force her to take the veil.’