The Tilneys reached the top of the set and began to dance down; when they reached the Whitings, Eleanor gave Catherine a rueful smile. “I am sure that Judith Beauclerk was full of her news,” she said to Catherine. “Had I the opportunity to speak with you before the dance, I would have given you due warning, so you could meet Sir Philip with composure.”
“Thank you, but I do not think it would have made any difference,” said Catherine.
“One of our problems is solved, at least,” Henry said to his sister. “Judith will not be living at Northanger after a certain happy event. We should be grateful that she has so obligingly disposed of herself.”
“And given her mother an incentive to hasten that happy event,” said Eleanor.
They were then obliged to separate, and when they met again for the next dance, they spoke of more pleasant topics, but Miss Beauclerk and her cousin were never far from Catherine’s mind. It was all so unaccountable! She determined to give Miss Beauclerk a hint, a warning of some kind, but did not encounter her again until they were coming out of the tea room. She felt someone take her elbow and steer her away from Henry.
It was Miss Beauclerk, who whispered in her ear, “I wanted so much to speak with you before the dancing began. One can hear nothing over the musicians. Let us chat now before they start again. What do you think of my news? Is it not a surprise?”
“I am sure I wish you every happiness,” said Catherine.
“I thank you, Mrs. Tilney; that is most kind of you. It is all so exciting! Word got round so fast — as soon as we came in tonight, Mr. King engaged us to open the dance. By the bye, I think Philip would like to dance with you.”
“Please convey my thanks to Sir Philip, but I am engaged for the rest of the evening.”
“You have only been dancing with Henry,” said Miss Beauclerk, laughing. “I have no hope at keeping my husband so much at my side, I fear.”
Here was the opening Catherine had been waiting for. “Miss Beauclerk, have you thought about this very seriously? Are you sure that Sir Philip will make you a good husband?”
“Why should he not?” said Miss Beauclerk with a smile.
Catherine turned to face her, took her hands and leaned close so that no one could overhear; she had forgotten how much taller she was than Miss Beauclerk. She whispered, “I hope I am not saying anything wrong, but I must speak. Sir Philip — that is — he — ” Words failed Catherine, and she blushed deeply.
Miss Beauclerk looked at her with a knowing smile. “Oh, Mrs. Tilney, you are adorable! You mean to warn me about my rakehell cousin! I dare say he has been amusing himself by flirting with you, is that it?”
“I believe he intended more than a flirtation, ma’am.”
Miss Beauclerk smiled, her head tilted to one side, as if Catherine were some exotic foreign animal that she was observing at a zoo. “I do not understand; what has that got to do with me?”
“Are you not afraid he will continue to — flirt — with other women after you are married?”
Miss Beauclerk shook her head and laughed. “You are a dear thing! But you need not worry about me, Mrs. Tilney. I am no romantic young miss. I shall take good care that my husband does not tire of me; and if he does, I shall accept it with good grace. And who knows, perhaps I shall have flirtations of my own!”
Desperately, Catherine played her last card. “But what of Mr. Shaw?”
“What of him?”
“I believe he has a great deal of affection for you; and I believe you gave him to understand that you had great affection for him as well.”
“I am very sorry if Mr. Shaw has deluded himself so far, but I made him no promises, and he has nothing with which to reproach me. He knew that Miss Beauclerk of Beaumont could not marry an apothecary.”
“He said he had performed services for you — and Mrs. Findlay said — ”
Miss Beauclerk gave a trill of laughter. “Neddie is such a foolish thing! When he worked at Beaumont, he made my potion up for me from his employer’s stores and then refused to take payment. He got turned off when his employer found out about it, and he came to the house, expecting us — expecting me — to take him in. My aunt heard of it, and embroidered it with her own wild imagination. Now, I hope to see you again before we leave, Mrs. Tilney; Philip and I will be married at Beaumont in two weeks’ time by special license, and then we shall take a tour of Wales. Mamma and I are frantic over my wedding-clothes, as I dare say you can imagine. Now, I see your partner looking for you; I shall not keep you away.” And she was gone in a whirl of filmy muslin and perfume.
Catherine could tell that Henry knew exactly what had happened; he could have said something like, “I told you that Judith knew all about Beauclerk, and decided to marry him anyway, as her ambition has overcome her good sense,” but to his credit and her relief he said only, “The set is forming, Cat.”
She reached out to him. “Dance with me, Henry, please!”
“With the greatest pleasure.” He took her hand and led her to the set.
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Perhaps.”
Matthew stopped, surprised, and turned; he had a way about him that made it unusual for most people to notice him on a crowded street, but then most people were not looking for him. He bowed to the young lady who had accosted him. “Miss Biddy.”
She curtsied. “I shouldn’t talk to you. I’m very put out, sir. You never came to see me.”
Mentally asking his master’s forgiveness for a white lie in a good cause, Matthew said, “I apologize, but Mr. Tilney has kept me very busy.”
“Oh, aye, I don’t doubt it. You’re lucky you saw me here, for I’m back to Beaumont on Monday, and you wouldn’t have had a chance to say goodbye.”
“To Beaumont? Indeed?”
“Aye. I don’t know if you heard, Miss is getting married to Sir Philip. They’re all in uproar, getting her clothes made and all. They sent me out for ribbon.” She held up a package.
“Our paths lay on the same route; I shall walk back with you.” Biddy seemed pleased with this gallantry, and accordingly they turned their steps towards Laura-place.
“At least her ladyship won’t need clothes made before her wedding. She bought a dozen gowns, or more, since she came to Bath, and I can’t tell you how many caps and bonnets.”
“I did not know things were so far forward with Lady Beauclerk’s wedding. There has been no announcement.”
“No, she’s letting Miss have her day; or so she says. After all her complaining about Miss not getting married, she’s getting her own back. Miss’ll be Lady Beauclerk, and Lady Beauclerk will be a mere Mrs. And don’t think Miss is letting her forget it, either.”
“Surely Lady Beauclerk could keep her title after marrying General Tilney?”
Biddy reached out and grabbed Matthew’s arm. “Haven’t you heard, ducky? She’s not marrying General Tilney! She’s marrying that Mr. Hornebolt, him as has more money than the Duke of Devonshire, or so they say. She says General Tilney’s fortune doesn’t compare; but she really did like him best, until they had the row about Lady Josephine.”
As Matthew had heard of the general’s humiliation in the service of Lady Josephine, he expressed his surprise that they would have had an argument over the creature.
“He said she had humiliated him in front of all of Bath, and he wouldn’t be able to show his face in public again; and she cried and said if he loved her, he would love her cat, but he swore he wouldn’t have a cat for a pet, they were only fit for chasing mice in the kitchens, and that Lady J. was a lazy, ill-natured creature who would tease his dogs and plague his life out. Her ladyship said she couldn’t abide a man who could be cruel to dumb animals, especially one so affectionate as Lady Josephine, and the general said if that was her notion of affection, then she had no business being married, and the shocking amount of money she spent at her mantua-maker would bankrupt any man in a year anyway, and her ladyship said he could just leave if he felt that way, and not darken her doorstep ever again. And so he did leave, and hasn’t been back. She accepted Mr. Hornebolt’s proposal the next day.”