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have been too great for familiarity； had not the easy gaiety of Miss
Thorpe’s manners； and her frequent expressions of delight on this
acquaintance with her； softened down every feeling of awe； and
left nothing but tender affection。 Their increasing attachment was
not to be satisfied with half a dozen turns in the Pump…room； but
required； when they all quitted it together； that Miss Thorpe
should accompany Miss Morland to the very door of Mr。 Allen’s
house； and that they should there part with a most affectionate
and lengthened shake of hands； after learning； to their mutual
relief； that they should see each other across the theatre at night；
and say their prayers in the same chapel the next morning。
Catherine then ran directly upstairs； and watched Miss Thorpe’s
progress down the street from the drawing…room window； admired
the graceful spirit of her walk； the fashionable air of her figure and
dress； and felt grateful； as well she might； for the chance which
had procured her such a friend。
Mrs。 Thorpe was a widow； and not a very rich one； she was a
good…humoured； well…meaning woman； and a very indulgent
mother。 Her eldest daughter had great personal beauty； and the
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younger ones； by pretending to be as handsome as their sister；
imitating her air； and dressing in the same style； did very well。
This brief account of the family is intended to supersede the
necessity of a long and minute detail from Mrs。 Thorpe herself； of
her past adventures and sufferings； which might otherwise be
expected to occupy the three or four following chapters； in which
the worthlessness of lords and attornies might be set forth； and
conversations； which had passed twenty years before； be minutely
repeated。
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CHAPTER V
atherine was not so much engaged at the theatre that
evening； in returning the nods and smiles of Miss Thorpe；
C
though they certainly claimed much of her leisure； as to
forget to look with an inquiring eye for Mr。 Tilney in every box
which her eye could reach； but she looked in vain。 Mr。 Tilney was
no fonder of the play than the Pump…room。 She hoped to be more
fortunate the next day； and when her wishes for fine weather were
answered by seeing a beautiful morning； she hardly felt a doubt of
it； for a fine Sunday in Bath empties every house of its inhabitants；
and all the world appears on such an occasion to walk about and
tell their acquaintance what a charming day it is。
As soon as divine service was over； the Thorpes and Allens
eagerly joined each other； and after staying long enough in the
Pump…room to discover that the crowd was insupportable； and
that there was not a genteel face to be seen； which every body
discovers every Sunday throughout the season； they hastened
away to the Crescent； to breathe the fresh air of better company。
Here Catherine and Isabella； arm in arm； again tasted the sweets
of friendship in an unreserved conversation；—they talked much；
and with much enjoyment； but again was Catherine disappointed
in her hope of re…seeing her partner。 He was nowhere to be met
with； every search for him was equally unsuccessful； in morning
lounges or evening assemblies； neither at the upper nor lower
rooms； at dressed or undressed balls； was he perceivable； nor
among the walkers； the horsemen； or the curricle…drivers of the
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morning。 His name was not in the Pump…room book； and curiosity
could do no more。 He must be gone from Bath。 Yet he had not
mentioned that his stay would be so short！ This sort of
mysteriousness； which is always so becoming in a hero； threw a
fresh grace in Catherine’s imagination around his person and
manners； and increased her anxiety to know more of him。 From
the Thorpes she could learn nothing； for they had been only two
days in Bath before they met with Mrs。 Allen。 It was a subject；
however； in which she often indulged with her fair friend； from
whom she received every possible encouragement to continue to
think of him； and his impression on her fancy was not suffered
therefore to weaken。 Isabella was very sure that he must be a
charming young man； and was equally sure that he must have
been delighted with her dear Catherine； and would therefore
shortly return。 She liked him the better for being a clergyman； “for
she must confess herself very partial to the profession；” and
something like a sigh escaped her as she said it。 Perhaps
Catherine was wrong in not demanding the cause of that gentle
emotion—but she was not experienced enough in the finesse of
love； or the duties of friendship； to know when delicate raillery
was properly called for； or when a confidence should be forced。
Mrs。 Allen was now quite happy—quite satisfied with Bath。 She
had found some acquaintance； had been so lucky too as to find in
them the family of a most worthy old friend； and； as the
completion of good fortune； had found these friends by no means
so expensively dressed as herself。 Her daily expressions were no
longer； “I wish we had some acquaintance in Bath！” They were
changed into—“How glad I am we have met with Mrs。 Thorpe！”—
and she was as eager in promoting the intercourse of the two
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families； as her young charge and Isabella themselves could be；
never satisfied with the day unless she spent the chief of it by the
side of Mrs。 Thorpe； in what they called conversation； but in which
there was scarcely ever any exchange of opinion； and not often
any resemblance of subject； for Mrs。 Thorpe talked chiefly of her
children； and Mrs。 Allen of her gowns。
The progress of the friendship between Catherine and Isabella
was quick as its beginning had been warm； and they passed so
rapidly through every gradation of increasing tenderness that
there was shortly no fresh proof of it to be given to their friends or
themselves。 They called each other by their Christian name； were
always arm in arm when they walked； pinned up each other’s train
for the dance； and were not to be divided in the set； and if a rainy
morning deprived them of other enjoyments； they were still
resolute in meeting in defiance of wet and dirt； and shut
themselves up； to read novels together。 Yes； novels；—for I will not
adopt that ungenerous and impolitic custom so common with
novel…writers； of degrading by their contemptuous censure the
very performances； to the number of which they are themselves
adding—joining with their greatest enemies in bestowing the
harshest epithets on such works； and scarcely ever permitting
them to be read by their own heroine； who； if she accidentally take
up a novel； is sure to turn over its insipid pages with disgust。 Alas！
If the heroine of one novel be not patronized by the heroine of
an