Any other woman would have said it with a knowing smile, but Catherine thought no further than the room, not even when my father dropped hints as large as the abbey about its wanting only a lady’s taste to make it complete.
‘Well, if it was my house, I should never sit anywhere else,’ said Catherine artlessly. ‘Oh! What a sweet little cottage there is among the trees – apple trees, too!’
And at once I imagined her sitting in an apple tree, eating an apple and reading a book. The picture charmed me.
My father, who has spent the last few years wanting to pull the cottage down, was now effusive in his praise of it, saying that if Catherine approved it, it stayed – which had the effect of silencing her again; and, though pointedly applied to by my father for her choice of the prevailing colour of the paper and hangings, nothing like an opinion on the subject could be drawn from her.
I extricated her from his attentions by the simple expedient of offering her my arm, and together we strolled round the grounds. I pointed out the improvements I had made and the future improvements I intended and she was interested in all my plans. She was delighted with the gardens and the meadows, thinking them prettier than any pleasure garden she had been in before, and I found it easier and easier to think of her being their mistress.
We walked into the village, which delighted her quite as much as the parsonage, and ended with a visit to the stables, where we played with a litter of puppies just able to roll about. Our hands met as we petted the pups, and our eyes met, and although she looked away and blushed I thought she had never been happier. If we had been alone, I would have proposed to her then and there, but alas! my father intruded with some outrageous compliment and the moment was broken.
She stood up, surprised to find it was four o’clock already, and we went inside to dine. The dinner passed muster with my father, for which I was truly thankful, and although he looked at the side table for cold meat which was not there, he ate heartily and was not unduly disconcerted by the melted butter’s being oiled.
At six o’clock my guests took their leave, but not before Eleanor had said to me, in an aside, ‘I see that Catherine is a lover of puppies. Was there ever anything that marked her out more clearly as a heroine?’
I laughed, and thought how fortunate I had been in finding my destiny in Bath, instead of having all the inconvenience of travelling to the Pyrenees.
Thursday 18 April
I was up with the lark so that I could finish my business here and return to the abbey, where Catherine awaited me. Once there, I found that events had moved on, for Catherine had had a letter from Isabella.
‘I am ashamed that I ever loved Isabella, for it was such a letter ... well, you shall hear,’ said she, taking it up and reading it. ‘“I have had my pen in my hand to begin a letter to you almost every day since you left Bath, but have always been prevented by some silly trifle or other.” ’ Catherine’s face showed what she thought of such an empty protestation. ‘“I am quite uneasy about your dear brother, not having heard from him since he went to Oxford; and am fearful of some misunderstanding.” Was there ever such falsehood? “I rejoice to say that the young man whom, of all others, I particularly abhor, has left Bath. You will know, from this description, I must mean Captain Tilney, who, as you may remember, was amazingly disposed to follow and tease me, before you went away. Afterwards he got worse, and became quite my shadow. Many girls might have been taken in, for never were such attentions; but I knew the fickle sex too well. He went away to his regiment two days ago, and I trust I shall never be plagued with him again. He is the greatest coxcomb I ever saw, and ...”’
She stopped, remembering to whom she read, blushed, and said, ‘There is more of the same. And she thinks that I will try and mend things between her and James, after such treatment, and after such a letter as this. She says she will wear nothing but purple from now on, because it is James’s favourite colour, but I am sure he does not care what colour any young lady should wear, only that she be good-natured and honest. She asks me to write to James on her behalf, but James shall never hear Isabella’s name mentioned by me again. So much for Isabella, and for all our intimacy! She must think me an idiot, or she could not have written so; but perhaps this has served to make her character better known to me than mine is to her. I see what she has been about. She is a vain coquette, and her tricks have not answered. I do not believe she had ever any regard either for James or for me, and I wish I had never known her.’
‘It will soon be as if you never had,’ I reassured her.
‘There is but one thing that I cannot understand,’ she went on, puzzled. ‘I see that she has had designs on Captain Tilney, which have not succeeded; but I do not understand what Captain Tilney has been about all this time. Why should he pay her such attentions as to make her quarrel with my brother, and then fly off himself?’
‘I have very little to say for Frederick’s motives, such as I believe them to have been. He has his vanities as well as Miss Thorpe, and the chief difference is, that having a stronger head, they have not yet injured himself. If the effect of his behaviour does not justify him with you, we had better not seek after the cause.’
‘Then you do not suppose he ever really cared about her?’ she asked.
‘I am persuaded that he never did,’ I said.
‘And only made believe to do so for mischief’s sake?’
I bowed my assent.
‘Well, then, I must say that I do not like him at all, though it has turned out so well for us. As it happens, there is no great harm done, because I do not think Isabella has any heart to lose. But, suppose he had made her very much in love with him?’
‘But we must first suppose Isabella to have had a heart to lose, consequently to have been a very different creature; and, in that case, she would have met with very different treatment,’ I said.
She was not satisfied, but said, ‘It is very right that you should stand by your brother.’
‘And if you would stand by yours, you would not be much distressed by the disappointment of Miss Thorpe. But your mind is warped by an innate principle of general integrity, and therefore not accessible to the cool reasonings of family partiality, or a desire of revenge,’ I said.
She laughed, for she knew that if she were a character in The Italian or some other such tale, she would think of nothing but revenge. Being, however, a young lady in England, she had better things to do, and was soon complimented out of further bitterness by Eleanor and myself. She resolved on not answering Isabella’s letter, after which we were very comfortable.
Our talk soon reverted to our day out and she had nothing but praise for the parsonage and Woodston, and talked a great deal about her family: of her father’s livings and of her brother’s expectations on entering the church. She was momentarily indignant as she remembered her father’s generosity in being prepared to make one of his livings over to her brother, and Isabella’s scorn at such generosity, but the moment soon passed, for to encourage indignation is beyond her.
I like the sound of Catherine’s family and I look forward to meeting them before very long.
Monday 22 April
After breakfast I found myself alone with my father and he told me that he had some business to attend to in London. He said that he would be setting out tomorrow and not returning to the abbey for a week. On saying that he had a mind to rent a house there for the season, I remarked that Miss Morland had never seen London and he seized on the idea at once, saying, ‘Once I have managed to secure suitable lodgings, Eleanor must invite her. An excellent thought, Henry!’ and was then in a good humour for the rest of the day; as was I, for Catherine will lend charm to London and I am already looking forward to seeing her there.