CHAPTER 15

Early the next day, a note from Isabella, speaking peace and tenderness in every line, and entreating the immediate presence of her friend on a matter of the utmost importance, hastened Catherine, in the happiest state of confidence and curiosity, to Edgar’s Buildings.  The two youngest Miss Thorpes were by themselves in the parlour; and, on Anne’s quitting it to call her sister, Catherine took the opportunity of asking the other for some particulars of their yesterday’s party.  Maria desired no greater pleasure than to speak of it; and Catherine immediately learnt that it had been altogether the most delightful scheme in the world, that nobody could imagine how charming it had been, and that it had been more delightful than anybody could conceive.  Such was the information of the first five minutes; the second unfolded thus much in detail —­ that they had driven directly to the York Hotel, ate some soup, and bespoke an early dinner, walked down to the pump-room, tasted the water, and laid out some shillings in purses and spars; thence adjoined to eat ice at a pastry-cook’s, and hurrying back to the hotel, swallowed their dinner in haste, to prevent being in the dark; and then had a delightful drive back, only the moon was not up, and it rained a little, and Mr. Morland’s horse was so tired he could hardly get it along.

Catherine listened with heartfelt satisfaction.  It appeared that Blaize Castle had never been thought of; and, as for all the rest, there was nothing to regret for half an instant.  Maria’s intelligence concluded with a tender effusion of pity for her sister Anne, whom she represented as insupportably cross, from being excluded the party.

“She will never forgive me, I am sure; but, you know, how could I help it?  John would have me go, for he vowed he would not drive her, because she had such thick ankles.  I dare say she will not be in good humour again this month; but I am determined I will not be cross; it is not a little matter that puts me out of temper.”

Isabella now entered the room with so eager a step, and a look of such happy importance, as engaged all her friend’s notice.  Maria was without ceremony sent away, and Isabella, embracing Catherine, thus began:  “Yes, my dear Catherine, it is so indeed; your penetration has not deceived you.  Oh!  That arch eye of yours!  It sees through everything.”

Catherine replied only by a look of wondering ignorance.

“Nay, my beloved, sweetest friend,” continued the other, “compose yourself.  I am amazingly agitated, as you perceive.  Let us sit down and talk in comfort.  Well, and so you guessed it the moment you had my note?  Sly creature!  Oh!  My dear Catherine, you alone, who know my heart, can judge of my present happiness.  Your brother is the most charming of men.  I only wish I were more worthy of him.  But what will your excellent father and mother say?  Oh!  Heavens!  When I think of them I am so agitated!”