Henry Tilney's Diary (9781101559024) (17 page)

‘Oh! But, because – And your brother! After what you told him from me, how could he think of going to ask her?'

‘I cannot take surprise to myself on that head. You bid me be surprised on your friend's account, and therefore I am; but as for my brother, his conduct in the business, I must own, has been no more than I believed him perfectly equal to. The fairness of your friend was an open attraction; her firmness, you know, could only be understood by yourself.'

‘You are laughing; but, I assure you, Isabella is very firm in general.'

‘It is as much as should be said of anyone. To be always firm must be to be often obstinate. When properly to relax is the trial of judgment; and, without reference to my brother, I really think Miss Thorpe has by no means chosen ill in fixing on the present hour.'

The dance over, Miss Morland was claimed by her friend, and they walked about the room arm in arm, with Miss Thorpe no doubt explaining why she had broken her steadfast resolve of not dancing, and Miss Morland being surprised and yet generous enough to believe whatever her friend cared to tell her.

 

 

 

Just as I thought we were settled in Bath, my father announced at breakfast that we would be returning to the abbey on Saturday se'ennight. A couple of letters were the cause of his change of plan: one from his steward, saying that his presence was needed at home and one from General Courteney, saying that he and the Marquis of Longtown had been unavoidably delayed and would not be coming to Bath after all.

Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief that the general and the marquis would not be joining us, but she was as disappointed as I was to be leaving Bath until my father said, ‘You must invite your friend to come with us, Eleanor. I am sure she would like to see the abbey and it will be company for you, you know.'

I was surprised, not sorry for the suggestion and neither was Eleanor.

My father set out immediately to ask the Allens for their consent to the scheme and I asked Eleanor if she knew of any reason why our father has singled out Miss Morland, more than any of the other young ladies of our acquaintance.

‘I like her very well, and so do you,' I mused, ‘but our father is disposed to dislike people in general, and I see nothing in Miss Morland which would impress him.'

‘Except perhaps for her sweetness and her willingness to please and be pleased,' said Eleanor. ‘I hope she accepts our invitation but I fear she might not want to leave her brother. I am sorry for him, engaging himself to Miss Thorpe. She is not good enough for him.'

‘No, far from it, but she is pretty, lively and flirtatious, and he is not the first young man to lose his head over such a one as Miss Thorpe.'

‘Frederick seems interested in her, too.'

‘Frederick is interested in her only because he cannot have her; unless he has some mischief planned,' I remarked. ‘However, Miss Thorpe knows what she is about. She will have to look out for herself. It is Miss Morland in whom I have an interest, and so, too, for some reason, does our father.'

‘Perhaps it is just that he noticed I have a liking for her.'

‘I think it must be, for I can think of no other reason. And so she is to visit us at the abbey?'

‘I have not asked her yet. She might say no.'

‘What? Say no to staying in a real abbey?' I enquired. ‘No lover of Gothic novels could resist.'

‘You must promise me not to tell her it is haunted. I think she might believe you, and I would not have her frightened.'

‘Frightened? My dear Eleanor, if she saw a ghost in the abbey it would delight her for the rest of her life. A headless horseman or a spectral woman wringing her hands, or some ill-fated nun, would thrill her to the core.'

She smiled.

‘I suppose it would. Very well, you may tease her if you will.'

Miss Morland arrived at that moment and my father returned soon after. He added his entreaties to Eleanor's and Miss Morland was very quickly persuaded to accept the invitation, as long as her parents gave their consent.

She returned to the Allens happily, leaving Eleanor and myself scarcely any less happy with the promise of her company.

 

 

 

Our change of plan has necessitated a change in my arrangements. I called on the Plainters to let them know that I will not be able to dine with them on the twenty-fifth and as they were just about to set out for a drive with a party of friends they persuaded me to go with them. I knew some of the party but there were some I did not know and some I wished I did not know. Miss Smith was there, as scathing as ever about her fellows; barbed comments delivered with humour I can enjoy but not those without. Miss Crane was also there, shy and demure. I tried to laugh her out of it, for, like Miss Morland, she is fresh from the country, but she would not even smile. I asked her about her hobbies – she has none; her favourite books – she does not read; the assemblies – she has no opinion. I relinquished her with gratitude to Margaret and found myself the object of Miss Brown's attention. Miss Brown said she was not surprised we were leaving, for Bath had nothing to offer: the assemblies were dull, the people without taste and the concerts not worth listening to. I confounded her by saying that I liked the place and was only sorry not to be staying longer.

‘Well, and do any of the ladies take your fancy?' asked Charles as we reached our destination and waited for the rest of the party to dismount or climb out of the carriages.

‘Alas, no.'

‘I thought at one time you were partial to Miss Morland but I hear she is to marry Thorpe,' he said, as he threw the reins of his horse over a branch.

I was astonished.

‘Do you indeed?' I said.

‘Yes. I had it from Thorpe himself. He tried to sell me a horse and when he saw he could not sell it to me for myself he tried to sell it to me for Margaret, remarking that he had intended to give it to his betrothed but that Miss Morland did not happen to like bay.'

‘But is it certain?' I asked. ‘It seems a strange match to me.' Thinking: And a highly unlikely one.

‘Thorpe seems to think so. His sister marrying Miss Morland's brother gave him the idea and Miss Morland apparently agreed.'

Margaret had by this time joined us and remarked, ‘I should be very surprised if Miss Morland thinks herself engaged. There has been no announcement and from what I can gather, the proposal was hardly conventional: Mr Thorpe said that marriage was a good thing and when Miss Morland agreed he took it as a “yes” to a question he does not appear to have asked.'

‘That seems more likely,' I said, ‘for whenever I have seen them together she seemed to regard him with aversion.'

‘I regard him the same way myself,' said Charles. ‘He has no interest in anyone but himself and tells the most preposterous stories about his exploits. To hear him talk, anyone would think he was the best swimmer, rider, billiard-player, boxer, hunter and everything else the world has ever seen.'

‘Charles would not let me invite him today, even though we were short of gentlemen,' said Margaret.

‘Ah, so that is why you invited me,' I said.

‘Of course,' said Charles with a laugh. ‘Why else?'

‘And, being short of gentlemen, you would very much oblige me if you would escort Mrs Redbridge and her daughter to the top of the hill. They are waiting for a gentleman's arm.'

I viewed the Redbridges with some misgivings, for their faces wore an assessing look, as though they were measuring everything from the capes on my greatcoat to the value of my tithes. But I did my duty and was rewarded by a fine spread eaten in the sharp March wind, before persistent rain broke up the party and returned us all to Bath.

What was my pleasure to find Miss Morland in Milsom Street. As I entered the drawing room I heard her asking Eleanor, in excited tones, ‘And was the abbey once a convent?'

‘Yes, and a richly endowed one, until the Reformation,' said Eleanor. ‘It then fell into the hands of one of our ancestors on its dissolution.'

‘And is it very ancient?' asked Miss Morland breathlessly.

‘Quite as ancient as you could wish. A large portion of the original building still makes a part of the present dwelling, although some has decayed.'

‘And does it stand in a valley, surrounded by heavy trees?'

‘Yes, if you call oak trees heavy.'

‘I should think they are,' said Miss Morland with delight.

‘Pray, do not let me interrupt,' I said as they looked up and saw me.

‘I cannot believe I am to stay in a real abbey,' said Miss Morland.

‘I only hope it does not disappoint you,' said Eleanor.

‘Oh, no! I am sure it could never do that.'

The new fittings and sound masonry are perhaps not what she is expecting, nor are the neat gardens and the useful offices, but I am glad to be taking her away from the Thorpes and I mean to make sure she enjoys herself.

 

We were late arriving at the Pump-room and to my disappointment I learnt that Miss Morland, who had been there earlier with Mrs Allen, had already left. Her friend Miss Thorpe was there, however, busily flirting with Frederick. Eleanor and I both noticed, and we exchanged glances.

‘Why do you think the fair Isabella is flirting with Frederick?' I asked her. ‘Is it because her swain is absent and she is practising for his return?'

‘Do you think that is the reason?' she said.

‘No, alas. I think that Miss Thorpe is a hardened flirt, and I pity Morland from my heart.'

‘For his sake or his sister's?'

‘Both. He has done nothing to deserve this, save being wilfully blind and attributing perfection to the object of his affections and ignoring her feet of clay. But that is no more than the best of us will do in love, and he is to be pitied rather than blamed.'

‘And have you attributed perfection to your favourite, instead of looking at her feet?'

‘I have attributed nothing to Miss Morland that she does not already possess: charm – the kind that comes from within, which is seldom met with, and not the practised kind, which is to be found everywhere; originality, for there is nothing more original than speaking one's mind, without dissemble or disguise; and a love of Mrs Radcliffe, which is the most important of the three.'

‘Do be serious, Henry,' she said with a smile.

‘I was never more so.'

‘Very well, then, have it your own way, a love of Mrs Radcliffe is the most important asset to happiness in a long life lived together.'

‘A long life lived together? My dear sister, what are you thinking?'

‘That you are destined for Miss Morland; or, perhaps I should say, that she is destined for you.'

‘Poor Eleanor, you are sadly deceived. She is but one of my flirts.'

Eleanor laughed.

‘Oh, no, Henry, you will have to do better than that. When I spoke of your favourite, you immediately assumed I was speaking of Miss Morland, not Miss Smith or Miss Crane or Miss Parsons, and why would you do that unless you favoured the lady above all others?'

‘My dear Eleanor, you have found me out. I have tried very hard to love Miss Parsons, her name being so suitable for a clergyman's wife, but her tendency to flirt with every other man when my back is turned is decidedly against the plan.'

‘Which brings us back to Miss Thorpe.'

I glanced again at Miss Thorpe, who was practically sitting on Frederick's knee, she was so close to him. His mouth was almost touching her ear, whispering, I am sure, the flattering nothings of which he is such a master.

‘Is she tired of her betrothed already, or was there never much love there, do you think?' I asked.

‘The latter, I think,' said Eleanor.

‘Then why did she consent to marry him? I know that every young woman likes to be asked for her hand, it is a trophy for her to parade around all her friends, but unless she is particularly stupid she does not give it, not without love, or at the very least, a desire for a respectable establishment.'

‘I am puzzled by that myself,' said Eleanor. ‘Mr Morland has no money to tempt her—'

‘Are you certain of that? If there is an unexpected fortune, then that might explain why my father is so fond of Miss Morland.'

‘I am sure of it. I congratulated Miss Thorpe on her engagement and she poured out the facts: that, although money meant nothing to her and she would be glad to live on twenty pounds a year, her dear James had only a living of four hundred pounds a year, and that he must wait several years for even that. I fancy she mistook Morland's wealth and thought him rich.'

‘It is always possible. She is certainly stupid enough, though his coat is as good an indication of his lack of wealth as a full disclosure of his expectations.'

‘Perhaps she thought him merely negligent in his dress,' said Eleanor.

‘Or allowed hope to overcome sense. Or merely thought it would be worth her while consenting to the engagement on the chance he might be well provided for, with the intention of looking elsewhere if such proved not to be the case.'

‘Whatever the case, I fear she is making her acknowledged suitor very unhappy.'

Morland had now entered, and was looking uncomfortable as he approached her. Frederick, with a last whisper in Miss Thorpe's ear, drew back, and Morland was left to the half hearted attentions of his future bride, whose eyes too often sought out my brother.