Why the locks should have been so difficult to open, however, was still something remarkable, for she could now manage them with perfect ease.  In this there was surely something mysterious, and she indulged in the flattering suggestion for half a minute, till the possibility of the door’s having been at first unlocked, and of being herself its fastener, darted into her head, and cost her another blush.

She got away as soon as she could from a room in which her conduct produced such unpleasant reflections, and found her way with all speed to the breakfast-parlour, as it had been pointed out to her by Miss Tilney the evening before.  Henry was alone in it; and his immediate hope of her having been undisturbed by the tempest, with an arch reference to the character of the building they inhabited, was rather distressing.  For the world would she not have her weakness suspected, and yet, unequal to an absolute falsehood, was constrained to acknowledge that the wind had kept her awake a little.  “But we have a charming morning after it,” she added, desiring to get rid of the subject; “and storms and sleeplessness are nothing when they are over.  What beautiful hyacinths!  I have just learnt to love a hyacinth.”

“And how might you learn?  By accident or argument?”

“Your sister taught me; I cannot tell how.  Mrs. Allen used to take pains, year after year, to make me like them; but I never could, till I saw them the other day in Milsom Street; I am naturally indifferent about flowers.”

“But now you love a hyacinth.  So much the better.  You have gained a new source of enjoyment, and it is well to have as many holds upon happiness as possible.  Besides, a taste for flowers is always desirable in your sex, as a means of getting you out of doors, and tempting you to more frequent exercise than you would otherwise take.  And though the love of a hyacinth may be rather domestic, who can tell, the sentiment once raised, but you may in time come to love a rose?”

“But I do not want any such pursuit to get me out of doors.  The pleasure of walking and breathing fresh air is enough for me, and in fine weather I am out more than half my time.  Mamma says I am never within.”

“At any rate, however, I am pleased that you have learnt to love a hyacinth.  The mere habit of learning to love is the thing; and a teachableness of disposition in a young lady is a great blessing.  Has my sister a pleasant mode of instruction?”

Catherine was saved the embarrassment of attempting an answer by the entrance of the general, whose smiling compliments announced a happy state of mind, but whose gentle hint of sympathetic early rising did not advance her composure.