It was done;and Catherine found herself alone in the gallery before the clocks had ceased to strike.It was no time for thought;she hurried on,slipped with the least possible noise through the folding doors,and without stopping to look or breathe,rushed forward to the one in question.The lock yielded to her hands and,luckily,with no sullen sound that could alarm a human being.On tip toe she entered;the room was before her;but it was some minutes before she could advance another step.She beheld what fixed her to the spot and agitated every feature. She saw a large,well proportioned apartment,an handsome dimity bed,arranged as unoccupied with an housemaid's care,a bright Bath stove,mahogany wardrobes,and neatly painted chairs,on which the warm beams of a western sun gaily poured through two sash windows!Catherine had expected to have her feelings worked,and worked they were.Astonishment and doubt first seized them;and a shortly succeeding ray of common sense added some bitter emotions of shame.She could not be mistaken as to the room;but how grossly mistaken in everything else! in Miss Tilney's meaning,in her own calculation!This apartment,to which she had given a date so ancient,a position so awful,proved to be one end of what the General's father had built.There were two other doors in the chamber,leading probably into dressing closets;but she had no inclination to open either.Would the veil in which Mrs Tilney had last walked,or the volume in which she had last read,remain to tell what nothing else was allowed to whisper?No:whatever might have been the General's crimes,he had certainly too much wit to let them sue for detection.She was sick of exploring,and desired but to be safe in her own room,with her own heart only privy to its folly;and she was on the point of retreating as softly as she had entered,when the sound of footsteps,she could hardly tell where,made her pause and tremble.To be found there,even by a servant,would be unpleasant;but by the General,(and he seemed always at hand when least wanted,)much worse! She listened the sound had ceased;and resolving not to lose a moment,she passed through and closed the door.At that instant a door underneath was hastily opened;someone seemed with swift steps to ascend the stairs,by the head of which she had yet to pass before she could gain the gallery.She had no power to move.With a feeling of terror not very definable,she fixed her eyes on the staircase,and in a few moments it gave Henry to her view.‘Mr Tilney!’she exclaimed in a voice of more than common astonishment.He looked astonished too.‘Good God!’she continued,not attending to his address,‘how came you here? how came you up that staircase?’
‘How came I up that staircase!’he replied,greatly surprised.‘Because it is my nearest way from the stable yard to my own chamber;and why should I not come up it?’
Catherine recollected herself,blushed deeply,and could say no more.He seemed to be looking in her countenance for that explanation which her lips did not afford.She moved on towards the gallery.‘And may I not,in my turn,’said he,as he pushed back the folding doors,‘ask how you came here? This passage is at least as extraordinary a road from the breakfast parlour to your apartment,as that staircase can be from the stables to mine.’
‘I have been,’said Catherine,looking down,‘to see your mother's room.’
‘My mother's room! Is there anything extraordinary to be seen there?’
‘No,nothing at all. I thought you did not mean to come back till tomorrow.’
‘I did not expect to be able to return sooner,when I went away;but three hours ago I had the pleasure of finding nothing to detain me. You look pale. I am afraid I alarmed you by running so fast up those stairs.Perhaps you did not know you were not aware of their leading from the offices in common use?’
‘No,I was not. You have had a very fine day for your ride.’
‘Very; and does Eleanor leave you to find your way into all the rooms in the house by yourself?’
‘Oh!no;she showed me over the greatest part on Saturday and we were coming here to these rooms but only (dropping her voice) your father was with us.’
‘And that prevented you;’said Henry,earnestly regarding her. ‘Have you looked into all the rooms in that passage?’
‘No,I only wanted to see Is not it very late?I must go and dress.’
‘It is only a quarter past four’,(showing his watch)and you are not now in Bath.No theatre,no rooms to prepare for.Half an hour at Northanger must be enough.’
She could not contradict it,and therefore suffered herself to be detained,though her dread of further questions made her,for the first time in their acquaintance,wish to leave him.They walked slowly up the gallery.‘Have you had any letter from Bath since I saw you?’
‘No,and I am very much surprised.Isabella promised so faithfully to write directly.’
‘Promised so faithfully! A faithful promise! That puzzles me. I have heard of a faithful performance.But a faithful promise the fidelity of promising!It is a power little worth knowing however,since it can deceive and pain you.My mother's room is very commodious,is it not?Large and cheerful looking,and the dressing closets so well disposed!It always strikes me as the most comfortable apartment in the house,and I rather wonder that Eleanor should not take it for her own.She sent you to look at it,I suppose?’
