“Psha, nonsense!” was Isabella’s answer in the same half whisper.  “Why do you put such things into my head?  If I could believe it —­ my spirit, you know, is pretty independent.”

“I wish your heart were independent.  That would be enough for me.”

“My heart, indeed!  What can you have to do with hearts?  You men have none of you any hearts.”

“If we have not hearts, we have eyes; and they give us torment enough.”

“Do they?  I am sorry for it; I am sorry they find anything so disagreeable in me.  I will look another way.  I hope this pleases you” (turning her back on him); “I hope your eyes are not tormented now.”

“Never more so; for the edge of a blooming cheek is still in view —­ at once too much and too little.”

Catherine heard all this, and quite out of countenance, could listen no longer.  Amazed that Isabella could endure it, and jealous for her brother, she rose up, and saying she should join Mrs. Allen, proposed their walking.  But for this Isabella showed no inclination.  She was so amazingly tired, and it was so odious to parade about the pump-room; and if she moved from her seat she should miss her sisters; she was expecting her sisters every moment; so that her dearest Catherine must excuse her, and must sit quietly down again.  But Catherine could be stubborn too; and Mrs. Allen just then coming up to propose their returning home, she joined her and walked out of the pump-room, leaving Isabella still sitting with Captain Tilney.  With much uneasiness did she thus leave them.  It seemed to her that Captain Tilney was falling in love with Isabella, and Isabella unconsciously encouraging him; unconsciously it must be, for Isabella’s attachment to James was as certain and well acknowledged as her engagement.  To doubt her truth or good intentions was impossible; and yet, during the whole of their conversation her manner had been odd.  She wished Isabella had talked more like her usual self, and not so much about money, and had not looked so well pleased at the sight of Captain Tilney.  How strange that she should not perceive his admiration!  Catherine longed to give her a hint of it, to put her on her guard, and prevent all the pain which her too lively behaviour might otherwise create both for him and her brother.

The compliment of John Thorpe’s affection did not make amends for this thoughtlessness in his sister.  She was almost as far from believing as from wishing it to be sincere; for she had not forgotten that he could mistake, and his assertion of the offer and of her encouragement convinced her that his mistakes could sometimes be very egregious.  In vanity, therefore, she gained but little; her chief profit was in wonder.  That he should think it worth his while to fancy himself in love with her was a matter of lively astonishment.  Isabella talked of his attentions; she had never been sensible of any; but Isabella had said many things which she hoped had been spoken in haste, and would never be said again; and upon this she was glad to rest altogether for present ease and comfort.