She could not listen to that with perfect calmness, but
repeatedly regretted the necessity of its concealment, wished she could
have known his intention, wished she could have seen him before he
went, as she should certainly have troubled him with her best regards
to his father and mother, and her kind compliments to all the Skinners. CHAPTER 16


Catherine’s expectations of pleasure from her visit in Milsom Street
were so very high that disappointment was inevitable; and accordingly,
though she was most politely received by General Tilney, and kindly
welcomed by his daughter, though Henry was at home, and no one else of
the party, she found, on her return, without spending many hours in the
examination of her feelings, that she had gone to her appointment
preparing for happiness which it had not afforded. Instead of finding
herself improved in acquaintance with Miss Tilney, from the intercourse
of the day, she seemed hardly so intimate with her as before; instead
of seeing Henry Tilney to greater advantage than ever, in the ease of a
family party, he had never said so little, nor been so little
agreeable; and, in spite of their father’s great civilities to her—in
spite of his thanks, invitations, and compliments—it had been a release
to get away from him. It puzzled her to account for all this. It could
not be General Tilney’s fault. That he was perfectly agreeable and
good-natured, and altogether a very charming man, did not admit of a
doubt, for he was tall and handsome, and Henry’s father. _He_ could not
be accountable for his children’s want of spirits, or for her want of
enjoyment in his company. The former she hoped at last might have been
accidental, and the latter she could only attribute to her own
stupidity. Isabella, on hearing the particulars of the visit, gave a
different explanation: “It was all pride, pride, insufferable
haughtiness and pride! she had long suspected the family to be very
high, and this made it certain. Such insolence of behaviour as Miss
Tilney’s she had never heard of in her life! not to do the honours of
her house with common good breeding! to behave to her guest with such
superciliousness! hardly even to speak to her!”

“But it was not so bad as that, Isabella; there was no
superciliousness; she was very civil.”

“Oh, don’t defend her! and then the brother, he, who had appeared so
attached to you! good heavens! well, some people’s feelings are
incomprehensible. And so he hardly looked once at you the whole day?”

“I do not say so; but he did not seem in good spirits.”

“How contemptible! of all things in the world inconstancy is my
aversion. Let me entreat you never to think of him again, my dear
Catherine; indeed he is unworthy of you.”

“Unworthy! i do not suppose he ever thinks of me.”

“That is exactly what I say; he never thinks of you. Such fickleness! Oh! how different to your brother and to mine! i really believe John
has the most constant heart.”

“But as for General Tilney, I assure you it would be impossible for
anybody to behave to me with greater civility and attention; it seemed
to be his only care to entertain and make me happy.”

“Oh! i know no harm of him; I do not suspect him of pride. I believe he
is a very gentleman-like man. John thinks very well of him, and John’s
judgment—”

“Well, I shall see how they behave to me this evening; we shall meet
them at the rooms.”

“And must I go?”

“Do not you intend it? I thought it was all settled.”

“Nay, since you make such a point of it, I can refuse you nothing. But
do not insist upon my being very agreeable, for my heart, you know,
will be some forty miles off. And as for dancing, do not mention it, I
beg; _that_ is quite out of the question. Charles Hodges will plague me
to death, I dare say; but I shall cut him very short. Ten to one but he
guesses the reason, and that is exactly what I want to avoid, so I
shall insist on his keeping his conjecture to himself.”

Isabella’s opinion of the Tilneys did not influence her friend; she was
sure there had been no insolence in the manners either of brother or
sister; and she did not credit there being any pride in their hearts. The evening rewarded her confidence; she was met by one with the same
kindness, and by the other with the same attention, as heretofore: Miss
Tilney took pains to be near her, and Henry asked her to dance. Having heard the day before in Milsom Street that their elder brother,
Captain Tilney, was expected almost every hour, she was at no loss for
the name of a very fashionable-looking, handsome young man, whom she
had never seen before, and who now evidently belonged to their party. She looked at him with great admiration, and even supposed it possible
that some people might think him handsomer than his brother, though, in
her eyes, his air was more assuming, and his countenance less
prepossessing. His taste and manners were beyond a doubt decidedly
inferior; for, within her hearing, he not only protested against every
thought of dancing himself, but even laughed openly at Henry for
finding it possible. From the latter circumstance it may be presumed
that, whatever might be our heroine’s opinion of him, his admiration of
her was not of a very dangerous kind; not likely to produce animosities
between the brothers, nor persecutions to the lady. _He_ cannot be the
instigator of the three villains in horsemen’s greatcoats, by whom she
will hereafter be forced into a traveling-chaise and four, which will
drive off with incredible speed. Catherine, meanwhile, undisturbed by
presentiments of such an evil, or of any evil at all, except that of
having but a short set to dance down, enjoyed her usual happiness with
Henry Tilney, listening with sparkling eyes to everything he said; and,
in finding him irresistible, becoming so herself. At the end of the first dance, Captain Tilney came towards them again,
and, much to Catherine’s dissatisfaction, pulled his brother away. They
retired whispering together; and, though her delicate sensibility did
not take immediate alarm, and lay it down as fact, that Captain Tilney
must have heard some malevolent misrepresentation of her, which he now
hastened to communicate to his brother, in the hope of separating them
forever, she could not have her partner conveyed from her sight without
very uneasy sensations. Her suspense was of full five minutes’
duration; and she was beginning to think it a very long quarter of an
hour, when they both returned, and an explanation was given, by Henry’s
requesting to know, if she thought her friend, Miss Thorpe, would have
any objection to dancing, as his brother would be most happy to be
introduced to her. Catherine, without hesitation, replied that she was
very sure Miss Thorpe did not mean to dance at all. The cruel reply was
passed on to the other, and he immediately walked away. “Your brother will not mind it, I know,” said she, “because I heard him
say before that he hated dancing; but it was very good-natured in him
to think of it.