‘We are going to the theatre this evening. Will you be there?’ asked Mrs Thorpe.
Mrs Allen said that she and her husband would be there, and Miss Morland with them. Eleanor explained that we had another engagement and we parted company with many professions of good will on both sides.
‘Though I would rather be going to the theatre,’ said Eleanor this evening, as we went downstairs.
The evening proved to be a trial. My father had invited some of his friends to dinner, and with them came their relatives: General Courteney’s nephew, still looking for a wife, and General Parsons’s daughter, intent on catching a husband. My father’s smiles showed his feelings on the matter and Eleanor and I were left to exercise our wits in evading capture. Eleanor had the worst of it, Mr Courteney feeling at liberty to follow her about, so that she could not avoid him even when she moved from one side of the room to the other. Miss Parsons soon lost interest in flirting with me and turned her attentions to every one of the other gentlemen instead.
Wednesday 27 February
Eleanor and Mrs Hughes went to the pump room this morning, whilst I rode out with my father. He was in a tolerably good mood and said he thought the waters were doing him some good, though I think his improvement has more to do with his pleasure in seeing his friends than in any beneficial effects a few days of drinking the waters might have had.
Returning to Milsom Street we were soon joined by my sister and Mrs Hughes. Whilst my father and Mrs Hughes talked of their mutual acquaintance, Eleanor said to me, ‘I saw your Miss Morland in the pump room.’
‘My Miss Morland?’
‘My dear Henry, you must be careful with her. You have awakened her admiration and she is just up from the country, you know.’
‘My dear Eleanor, she is safe with me.’
‘Yes, I believe she is, which is just as well, for she has a decided preference for you. She had hardly seen me when she said, “How well your brother dances!” She went on to explain, more than once, that she had to turn you down when you asked her to dance, for she really had been engaged to Mr Thorpe the whole day, even though he had not immediately taken her on to the floor. She would not stop talking about you. She had noticed you dancing with Miss Smith, had discovered her name, and asked me if I thought Miss Smith pretty. On my replying, “Not very,” she was relieved, and then asked me if you ever came to the pump room. She will be at the cotillion ball tomorrow, and looks forward to seeing you there.’
‘Does she indeed?’
‘Is it too early for you to have found your heroine?’
‘Far too early. I have not yet ascertained whether or not she reads novels and that, you know, is to be the deciding factor in my choice of a bride.’
‘I should have thought to ask her,’ said Eleanor, ‘but never mind, I am sure we will be seeing more of her. She and the Allens are here for some weeks.’
‘Is she by any chance like us, without a mother?’
‘No. From what I can gather her parents are very much alive, as are her numerous brothers and sisters, but the Allens being childless neighbours and being bound for Bath, they invited Catherine to accompany them. They seem like good people. I like them better than the Thorpes. Miss Thorpe’s lips praise Mr Morland, but her eyes invite everyone else.’
‘I am sorry for it, he seems likeable enough but we must credit him with the ability to handle his own affairs and we must attend to our own. Do not forget, dear sister, you promised to go shopping with me and help me to find some suitable furniture for the parsonage. The drawing room is still unfurnished, you know,’ I said.
After lunch we set out. We had hardly set foot out of the door, however, when we were accosted by John Thorpe, who tried to sell me a horse. When he could not succeed he entertained us with tales of his prowess at every sport invented until he mercifully saw another acquaintance. Thinking this hapless individual might like to purchase his animal, he abandoned us for them.
Eleanor and I were therefore free to investigate the local shops, and although we have not chosen anything as yet, we have seen a dining table and chairs that we both like. I may buy the set if nothing better presents itself.
Thursday 28 February
The morning was spent shopping with my sister and the afternoon riding with Charles and a party of our friends. This evening we went to the Rooms, where my eyes fell at once upon Miss Morland, who was sitting by Mrs Allen with her eyes firmly fixed on her fan. I went over to her and asked her to dance, and was flattered and amused to see with what sparkling eyes she accepted. The dance had scarcely begun, however, when her attention was claimed by John Thorpe, who stood behind her and said that she had promised to dance with him. She protested that he had never asked her but he continued to plague her, saying that he had been telling all his acquaintance that he was going to dance with the prettiest girl in the room. Miss Morland protested that they would never think of her after such a description as that, and what is more, she said it not to invite compliments, as another woman would have done, but because she sincerely believed it. How many young ladies are there who would ever think the same?
Thorpe, with his customary charm, said, ‘By heavens, if they do not, I will kick them out of the room for blockheads,’ and we were both relieved when the dance swept him away.
I saw that she had been wearied by him, and determined to make her smile again by talking agreeable nonsense to her.
‘He has no business to withdraw the attention of my partner from me,’ I said. ‘We have entered into a contract of mutual agreeableness for the space of an evening, and all our agreeableness belongs solely to each other for that time. Nobody can fasten themselves on the notice of one, without injuring the rights of the other. I consider a country-dance as an emblem of marriage. Fidelity and complaisance are the principal duties of both; and those men who do not choose to dance or marry themselves, have no business with the partners or wives of their neighbours.’
‘But they are such very different things!’ she said, not knowing whether or not I was serious.
‘Then you think they cannot be compared together?’
‘To be sure not. People that marry can never part, but must go and keep house together. People that dance only stand opposite each other in a long room for half an hour.’
‘And such is your definition of matrimony and dancing? Taken in that light certainly, their resemblance is not striking; but I think I could place them in such a view. You will allow, that in both, man has the advantage of choice, woman only the power of refusal; that in both, it is an engagement between man and woman, formed for the advantage of each; and that when once entered into, they belong exclusively to each other till the moment of its dissolution; that it is their duty, each to endeavour to give the other no cause for wishing that he or she had bestowed themselves elsewhere, and their best interest to keep their own imaginations from wandering towards the perfections of their neighbours, or fancying that they should have been better off with anyone else. You will allow all this?’
‘Yes, to be sure, as you state it, all this sounds very well; but still they are so very different. I cannot look upon them at all in the same light, nor think the same duties belong to them.’
I conceded there was a difference, saying, ‘You totally disallow any similarity in the obligations; and may I not thence infer that your notions of the duties of the dancing state are not so strict as your partner might wish? Have I not reason to fear that if the gentleman who spoke to you just now were to return, or if any other gentleman were to address you, there would be nothing to restrain you from conversing with him as long as you chose?’