Thorpe would have darted after her, but Morland withheld him.
"Let her go, let her go, if she will go.
She is as obstinate as - "
Thorpe never finished the simile, for it could hardly have been a proper one.
Away walked Catherine in great agitation, as fast as the crowd would permit her, fearful of being pursued, yet determined to persevere.
As she walked, she reflected on what had passed.
It was painful to her to disappoint and displease them, particularly to displease her brother; but she could not repent her resistance.
Setting her own inclination apart, to have failed a second time in her engagement to Miss Tilney, to have retracted a promise voluntarily made only five minutes before, and on a false pretence too, must have been wrong.
She had not been withstanding them on selfish principles alone, she had not consulted merely her own gratification; that might have been ensured in some degree by the excursion itself, by seeing Blaize Castle; no, she had attended to what was due to others, and to her own character in their opinion.
Her conviction of being right, however, was not enough to restore her composure; till she had spoken to Miss Tilney she could not be at ease; and quickening her pace when she got clear of the Crescent, she almost ran over the remaining ground till she gained the top of Milsom Street. So rapid had been her movements that in spite of the Tilneys' advantage in the outset, they were but just turning into their lodgings as she came within view of them; and the servant still remaining at the open door, she used only the ceremony of saying that she must speak with Miss Tilney that moment, and hurrying by him proceeded upstairs. Then, opening the first door before her, which happened to be the right, she immediately found herself in the drawing-room with General Tilney, his son, and daughter.
Her explanation, defective only in being - from her irritation of nerves and shortness of breath - no explanation at all, was instantly given.
"I am come in a great hurry - It was all a mistake - I never promised to go - I told them from the first I could not go. - I ran away in a great hurry to explain it. - I did not care what you thought of me. - I would not stay for the servant."
The business, however, though not perfectly elucidated by this speech, soon ceased to be a puzzle.
Catherine found that John Thorpe had given the message; and Miss Tilney had no scruple in owning herself greatly surprised by it.
But whether her brother had still exceeded her in resentment, Catherine, though she instinctively addressed herself as much to one as to the other in her vindication, had no means of knowing.
Whatever might have been felt before her arrival, her eager declarations immediately made every look and sentence as friendly as she could desire.
The affair thus happily settled, she was introduced by Miss Tilney to her father, and received by him with such ready, such solicitous politeness as recalled Thorpe's information to her mind, and made her think with pleasure that he might be sometimes depended on.
To such anxious attention was the general's civility carried, that not aware of her extraordinary swiftness in entering the house, he was quite angry with the servant whose neglect had reduced her to open the door of the apartment herself.
"What did William mean by it?
He should make a point of inquiring into the matter."
And if Catherine had not most warmly asserted his innocence, it seemed likely that William would lose the favour of his master forever, if not his place, by her rapidity.
After sitting with them a quarter of an hour, she rose to take leave, and was then most agreeably surprised by General Tilney's asking her if she would do his daughter the honour of dining and spending the rest of the day with her.
Miss Tilney added her own wishes.
Catherine was greatly obliged; but it was quite out of her power. Mr. and Mrs. Allen would expect her back every moment.
The general declared he could say no more; the claims of Mr. and Mrs. Allen were not to be superseded; but on some other day he trusted, when longer notice could be given, they would not refuse to spare her to her friend.
"Oh, no; Catherine was sure they would not have the least objection, and she should have great pleasure in coming."
The general attended her himself to the street-door, saying everything gallant as they went downstairs, admiring the elasticity of her walk, which corresponded exactly with the spirit of her dancing, and making her one of the most graceful bows she had ever beheld, when they parted.
Catherine, delighted by all that had passed, proceeded gaily to Pulteney Street, walking, as she concluded, with great elasticity, though she had never thought of it before.
She reached home without seeing anything more of the offended party; and now that she had been triumphant throughout, had carried her point, and was secure of her walk, she began (as the flutter of her spirits subsided) to doubt whether she had been perfectly right.
A sacrifice was always noble; and if she had given way to their entreaties, she should have been spared the distressing idea of a friend displeased, a brother angry, and a scheme of great happiness to both destroyed, perhaps through her means.
To ease her mind, and ascertain by the opinion of an unprejudiced person what her own conduct had really been, she took occasion to mention before Mr. Allen the half-settled scheme of her brother and the Thorpes for the following day.
Mr. Allen caught at it directly.
"Well," said he, "and do you think of going too?"
"No; I had just engaged myself to walk with Miss Tilney before they told me of it; and therefore you know I could not go with them, could I?"
"No, certainly not; and I am glad you do not think of it.
These schemes are not at all the thing.
Young men and women driving about the country in open carriages!
Now and then it is very well; but going to inns and public places together!
It is not right; and I wonder Mrs. Thorpe should allow it.
I am glad you do not think of going; I am sure Mrs. Morland would not be pleased.
Mrs. Allen, are not you of my way of thinking?
Do not you think these kind of projects objectionable?"
"Yes, very much so indeed.
Open carriages are nasty things.
A clean gown is not five minutes' wear in them.
You are splashed getting in and getting out; and the wind takes your hair and your bonnet in every direction.
I hate an open carriage myself."
"I know you do; but that is not the question.
Do not you think it has an odd appearance, if young ladies are frequently driven about in them by young men, to whom they are not even related?"
"Yes, my dear, a very odd appearance indeed.