While talking to each other, she had observed with some surprise that John Thorpe, who was never in the same part of the house for ten minutes together, was engaged in conversation with General Tilney; and she felt something more than surprise when she thought she could perceive herself the object of their attention and discourse.  What could they have to say of her?  She feared General Tilney did not like her appearance:  she found it was implied in his preventing her admittance to his daughter, rather than postpone his own walk a few minutes.  “How came Mr. Thorpe to know your father?” was her anxious inquiry, as she pointed them out to her companion.  He knew nothing about it; but his father, like every military man, had a very large acquaintance.

When the entertainment was over, Thorpe came to assist them in getting out.  Catherine was the immediate object of his gallantry; and, while they waited in the lobby for a chair, he prevented the inquiry which had travelled from her heart almost to the tip of her tongue, by asking, in a consequential manner, whether she had seen him talking with General Tilney:  “He is a fine old fellow, upon my soul!  Stout, active —­ looks as young as his son.  I have a great regard for him, I assure you:  a gentleman-like, good sort of fellow as ever lived.”

“But how came you to know him?”

“Know him!  There are few people much about town that I do not know.  I have met him forever at the Bedford; and I knew his face again today the moment he came into the billiard-room.  One of the best players we have, by the by; and we had a little touch together, though I was almost afraid of him at first:  the odds were five to four against me; and, if I had not made one of the cleanest strokes that perhaps ever was made in this world —­ I took his ball exactly —­ but I could not make you understand it without a table; however, I did beat him.  A very fine fellow; as rich as a Jew.  I should like to dine with him; I dare say he gives famous dinners.  But what do you think we have been talking of?  You.  Yes, by heavens!  And the general thinks you the finest girl in Bath.”

“Oh!  Nonsense!  How can you say so?”

“And what do you think I said?” —­ lowering his voice —­ “well done, general, said I; I am quite of your mind.”

Here Catherine, who was much less gratified by his admiration than by General Tilney’s, was not sorry to be called away by Mr. Allen.  Thorpe, however, would see her to her chair, and, till she entered it, continued the same kind of delicate flattery, in spite of her entreating him to have done.

That General Tilney, instead of disliking, should admire her, was very delightful; and she joyfully thought that there was not one of the family whom she need now fear to meet.  The evening had done more, much more, for her than could have been expected.

CHAPTER 13