Catherine could almost have accused Isabella of being wanting in tenderness towards herself and her sorrows;so very little did they appear to dwell on her mind,and so very inadequate was the comfort she offered.‘Do not be so dull,my dearest creature,’she whispered.‘You will quite break my heart.It was amazingly shocking to be sure;but the Tilneys were entirely to blame.Why were not they more punctual?It was dirty,indeed,but what did that signify?I am sure John and I should not have minded it.I never mind going through anything,where a friend is concerned;that is my disposition,and John is just the same;he has amazing strong feelings.Good heavens!what a delightful hand you have got!Kings,I vow!I never was so happy in my life!I would fifty times rather you should have them than myself.’
And now I may dismiss my heroine to the sleepless couch,which is the true heroine's portion;to a pillow strewed with thorns and wet with tears.And lucky may she think herself,if she get another good night's rest in the course of the next three months.
Chapter 12
‘Mrs Allen,’said Catherine the next morning,‘will there be any harm in my calling on Miss Tilney today?I shall not be easy till I have explained everything.’
‘Go by all means,my dear;only put on a white gown;Miss Tilney always wears white.’
Catherine cheerfully complied;and being properly equipped,was more impatient than ever to be at the Pump room,that she might inform herself of General Tilney's lodgings,for though she believed they were in Milsom Street,she was not certain of the house,and Mrs Allen's wavering convictions only made it more doubtful.To Milsom Street she was directed;and having made herself perfect in the number,hastened away with eager steps and a beating heart to pay her visit,explain her conduct,and be forgiven;tripping lightly through the church yard,and resolutely turning away her eyes,that she might not be obliged to see her beloved Isabella and her dear family,who,she had reason to believe,were in a shop hard by.She reached the house without any impediment,looked at the number,knocked at the door,and inquired for Miss Tilney.The man believed Miss Tilney to be at home,but was not quite certain.Would she be pleased to send up her name?She gave her card.In a few minutes the servant returned,and with a look which did not quite confirm his words,said he had been mistaken,for that Miss Tilney was walked out.Catherine,with a blush of mortification,left the house.She felt almost persuaded that Miss Tilney was at home,and too much offended to admit her;and as she retired down the street,could not withhold one glance at the drawing room windows,in expectation of seeing her there,but no one appeared at them.At the bottom of the street,however,she looked back again,and then,not at a window,but issuing from the door,she saw Miss Tilney herself.She was followed by a gentleman,whom Catherine believed to be her father,and they turned up towards Edgar's Buildings.Catherine,in deep mortification,proceeded on her way.She could almost be angry herself at such angry incivility;but she checked the resentful sensation;she remembered her own ignorance.She knew not how such an offence as hers might be classed by the laws of worldly politeness,to what a degree of unforgivingness it might with propriety lead,nor to what rigours of rudeness in return it might justly make her amenable.
Dejected and humbled,she had even some thoughts of not going with the others to the theatre that night;but it must be confessed that they were not of long continuance:for she soon recollected,in the first place,that she was without any excuse for staying at home;and,in the second,that it was a play she wanted very much to see.To the theatre accordingly they all went;no Tilneys appeared to plague or please her;she feared that,amongst the many perfections of the family,a fondness for plays was not to be ranked;but perhaps it was because they were habituated to the finer performances of the London stage,which she knew,on Isabella's authority,rendered everything else of the kind ‘quite horrid.’She was not deceived in her own expectation of pleasure;the comedy so well suspended her care,that no one,observing her during the first four acts,would have supposed she had any wretchedness about her.On the beginning of the fifth,however,the sudden view of Mr Henry Tilney and his father,joining a party in the opposite box,recalled her to anxiety and distress.The stage could no longer excite genuine merriment no longer keep her whole attention.Every other look upon an average was directed towards the opposite box;and,for the space of two entire scenes,did she thus watch Henry Tilney,without being once able to catch his eye.No longer could he be suspected of indifference for a play;his notice was never withdrawn from the stage during two whole scenes.At length,however,he did look towards her,and he bowed but such a bow!no smile,no continued observance attended it;his eyes were immediately returned to their former direction.Catherine was restlessly miserable;she could almost have run round to the box in which he sat,and forced him to hear her explanation.Feelings rather natural than heroic possessed her;instead of considering her own dignity injured by this ready condemnation instead of proudly resolving,in conscious innocence,to show her resentment towards him who could harbour a doubt of it,to leave to him all the trouble of seeking an explanation,and to enlighten him on the past only by avoiding his sight,or flirting with somebody else,she took to herself all the shame of misconduct,or at least of its appearance,and was only eager for an opportunity of explaining its cause.
