Northanger Abbey
CHAPTER 3
Every morning now brought its regular duties--shops were to be visited;some new part of the town to be looked at; and the pump-room to beattended, where they paraded up and down for an hour, looking ateverybody and speaking to no one. The wish of a numerous acquaintancein Bath was still uppermost with Mrs. Allen, and she repeated it afterevery fresh proof, which every morning brought, of her knowing nobody atall.
They made their appearance in the Lower Rooms; and here fortune was morefavourable to our heroine. The master of the ceremonies introduced toher a very gentlemanlike young man as a partner; his name was Tilney.He seemed to be about four or five and twenty, was rather tall, had apleasing countenance, a very intelligent and lively eye, and, if notquite handsome, was very near it. His address was good, and Catherinefelt herself in high luck. There was little leisure for speakingwhile they danced; but when they were seated at tea, she found him asagreeable as she had already given him credit for being. He talked withfluency and spirit--and there was an archness and pleasantry in hismanner which interested, though it was hardly understood by her. Afterchatting some time on such matters as naturally arose from the objectsaround them, he suddenly addressed her with--I have hitherto been veryremiss, madam, in the proper attentions of a partner here; I have notyet asked you how long you have been in Bath; whether you were ever herebefore; whether you have been at the Upper Rooms, the theatre, andthe concert; and how you like the place altogether. I have beenvery negligent--but are you now at leisure to satisfy me in theseparticulars? If you are I will begin directly.
You need not give yourself that trouble, sir.
No trouble, I assure you, madam. Then forming his features into a setsmile, and affectedly softening his voice, he added, with a simperingair, Have you been long in Bath, madam?
About a week, sir, replied Catherine, trying not to laugh.
Really! with affected astonishment.
Why should you be surprised, sir?
Why, indeed! said he, in his natural tone. But some emotion mustappear to be raised by your reply, and surprise is more easily assumed,and not less reasonable than any other. Now let us go on. Were you neverhere before, madam?
Never, sir.
Indeed! Have you yet honoured the Upper Rooms?
Yes, sir, I was there last Monday.
Have you been to the theatre?
Yes, sir, I was at the play on Tuesday.
To the concert?
Yes, sir, on Wednesday.
And are you altogether pleased with Bath?
Yes--I like it very well.
Now I must give one smirk, and then we may be rational again.Catherine turned away her head, not knowing whether she might venture tolaugh. I see what you think of me, said he gravely--I shall make buta poor figure in your journal tomorrow.
My journal!
Yes, I know exactly what you will say: Friday, went to the LowerRooms; wore my sprigged muslin robe with blue trimmings--plain blackshoes--appeared to much advantage; but was strangely harassed by aqueer, half-witted man, who would make me dance with him, and distressedme by his nonsense.
Indeed I shall say no such thing.
Shall I tell you what you ought to say?
If you please.
I danced with a very agreeable young man, introduced by Mr. King; hada great deal of conversation with him--seems a most extraordinarygenius--hope I may know more of him. That, madam, is what I wish you tosay.
But, perhaps, I keep no journal.
Perhaps you are not sitting in this room, and I am not sitting byyou. These are points in which a doubt is equally possible. Not keep ajournal! How are your absent cousins to understand the tenour of yourlife in Bath without one? How are the civilities and compliments ofevery day to be related as they ought to be, unless noted down everyevening in a journal? How are your various dresses to be remembered,and the particular state of your complexion, and curl of your hair to bedescribed in all their diversities, without having constant recourse toa journal? My dear madam, I am not so ignorant of young ladies' ways asyou wish to believe me; it is this delightful habit of journaling whichlargely contributes to form the easy style of writing for which ladiesare so generally celebrated. Everybody allows that the talent of writingagreeable letters is peculiarly female. Nature may have done something,but I am sure it must be essentially assisted by the practice of keepinga journal.
I have sometimes thought, said Catherine, doubtingly, whether ladiesdo write so much better letters than gentlemen! That is--I should notthink the superiority was always on our side.
As far as I have had opportunity of judging, it appears to me that theusual style of letter-writing among women is faultless, except in threeparticulars.
And what are they?
A general deficiency of subject, a total inattention to stops, and avery frequent ignorance of grammar.
Upon my word! I need not have been afraid of disclaiming thecompliment. You do not think too highly of us in that way.
I should no more lay it down as a general rule that women write betterletters than men, than that they sing better duets, or draw betterlandscapes. In every power, of which taste is the foundation, excellenceis pretty fairly divided between the sexes.
They were interrupted by Mrs. Allen: My dear Catherine, said she, dotake this pin out of my sleeve; I am afraid it has torn a hole already;I shall be quite sorry if it has, for this is a favourite gown, thoughit cost but nine shillings a yard.
That is exactly what I should have guessed it, madam, said Mr. Tilney,looking at the muslin.
Do you understand muslins, sir?
Particularly well; I always buy my own cravats, and am allowed to be anexcellent judge; and my sister has often trusted me in the choice of agown. I bought one for her the other day, and it was pronounced to be aprodigious bargain by every lady who saw it. I gave but five shillings ayard for it, and a true Indian muslin.
Mrs. Allen was quite struck by his genius. Men commonly take so littlenotice of those things, said she; I can never get Mr. Allen to knowone of my gowns from another. You must be a great comfort to yoursister, sir.
I hope I am, madam.
And pray, sir, what do you think of Miss Morland's gown?
It is very pretty, madam, said he, gravely examining it; but I do notthink it will wash well; I am afraid it will fray.
How can you, said Catherine, laughing, be so-- She had almost saidstrange.
I am quite of your opinion, sir, replied Mrs. Allen; and so I toldMiss Morland when she bought it.
But then you know, madam, muslin always turns to some account or other;Miss Morland will get enough out of it for a handkerchief, or a cap, ora cloak. Muslin can never be said to be wasted. I have heard my sistersay so forty times, when she has been extravagant in buying more thanshe wanted, or careless in cutting it to pieces.
Bath is a charming place, sir; there are so many good shops here. Weare sadly off in the country; not but what we have very good shops inSalisbury, but it is so far to go--eight miles is a long way; Mr. Allensays it is nine, measured nine; but I am sure it cannot be more thaneight; and it is such a fag--I come back tired to death. Now, here onecan step out of doors and get a thing in five minutes.
Mr. Tilney was polite enough to seem interested in what she said; andshe kept him on the subject of muslins till the dancing recommenced.Catherine feared, as she listened to their discourse, that he indulgedhimself a little too much with the foibles of others. What are youthinking of so earnestly? said he, as they walked back to the ballroom;not of your partner, I hope, for, by that shake of the head, yourmeditations are not satisfactory.
Catherine coloured, and said, I was not thinking of anything.
That is artful and deep, to be sure; but I had rather be told at oncethat you will not tell me.
Well then, I will not.
Thank you; for now we shall soon be acquainted, as I am authorized totease you on this subject whenever we meet, and nothing in the worldadvances intimacy so much.
They danced again; and, when the assembly closed, parted, on thelady's side at least, with a strong inclination for continuing theacquaintance. Whether she thought of him so much, while she drank herwarm wine and water, and prepared herself for bed, as to dream of himwhen there, cannot be ascertained; but I hope it was no more than ina slight slumber, or a morning doze at most; for if it be true, as acelebrated writer has maintained, that no young lady can be justifiedin falling in love before the gentleman's love is declared,* it must bevery improper that a young lady should dream of a gentleman before thegentleman is first known to have dreamt of her. How proper Mr. Tilneymight be as a dreamer or a lover had not yet perhaps entered Mr. Allen'shead, but that he was not objectionable as a common acquaintance forhis young charge he was on inquiry satisfied; for he had early in theevening taken pains to know who her partner was, and had been assuredof Mr. Tilney's being a clergyman, and of a very respectable family inGloucestershire.