"More so! Take care, or you will forget to be tired of it at the proper time. You ought to be tired at the end of six weeks.""I do not think I should be tired, if I were to stay here six months.""Bath, compared with London, has little variety, and so everybody finds out every year. 'For six weeks, I allow Bath is pleasant enough; but beyond that, it is the most tiresome place in the world.' You would be told so by people of all descriptions, who come regularly every winter, lengthen their six weeks into ten or twelve, and go away at last because they can afford to stay no longer.""Well, other people must judge for themselves, and those who go to London may think nothing of Bath.
But I, who live in a small retired village in the country, can never find greater sameness in such a place as this than in my own home; for here are a variety of amusements, a variety of things to be seen and done all day long, which Ican know nothing of there."
"You are not fond of the country."
"Yes, I am. I have always lived there, and always been very happy. But certainly there is much more sameness in a country life than in a Bath life.
One day in the country is exactly like another.""But then you spend your time so much more rationally in the country.""Do I?"
"Do you not?"
"I do not believe there is much difference.""Here you are in pursuit only of amusement all day long.""And so I am at home--only I do not find so much of it.
I walk about here, and so I do there; but here I see a variety of people in every street, and there I can only go and call on Mrs. Allen."Mr. Tilney was very much amused.
"Only go and call on Mrs. Allen!" he repeated.
"What a picture of intellectual poverty! However, when you sink into this abyss again, you will have more to say.
You will be able to talk of Bath, and of all that you did here.""Oh! Yes. I shall never be in want of something to talk of again to Mrs. Allen, or anybody else.
I really believe I shall always be talking of Bath, when I am at home again--I do like it so very much.
If I could but have Papa and Mamma, and the rest of them here, I suppose I should be too happy! James's coming (my eldest brother) is quite delightful--and especially as it turns out that the very family we are just got so intimate with are his intimate friends already.
Oh! Who can ever be tired of Bath?"
"Not those who bring such fresh feelings of every sort to it as you do. But papas and mammas, and brothers, and intimate friends are a good deal gone by, to most of the frequenters of Bath--and the honest relish of balls and plays, and everyday sights, is past with them."Here their conversation closed, the demands of the dance becoming now too importunate for a divided attention.
Soon after their reaching the bottom of the set, Catherine perceived herself to be earnestly regarded by a gentleman who stood among the lookers-on, immediately behind her partner. He was a very handsome man, of a commanding aspect, past the bloom, but not past the vigour of life;and with his eye still directed towards her, she saw him presently address Mr. Tilney in a familiar whisper.
Confused by his notice, and blushing from the fear of its being excited by something wrong in her appearance, she turned away her head. But while she did so, the gentleman retreated, and her partner, coming nearer, said, "I see that you guess what I have just been asked.
That gentleman knows your name, and you have a right to know his. It is General Tilney, my father."Catherine's answer was only "Oh!"--but it was an "Oh!"expressing everything needful: attention to his words, and perfect reliance on their truth. With real interest and strong admiration did her eye now follow the general, as he moved through the crowd, and "How handsome a family they are!" was her secret remark.
In chatting with Miss Tilney before the evening concluded, a new source of felicity arose to her. She had never taken a country walk since her arrival in Bath. Miss Tilney, to whom all the commonly frequented environs were familiar, spoke of them in terms which made her all eagerness to know them too; and on her openly fearing that she might find nobody to go with her, it was proposed by the brother and sister that they should join in a walk, some morning or other. "I shall like it," she cried, "beyond anything in the world; and do not let us put it off--let us go tomorrow." This was readily agreed to, with only a proviso of Miss Tilney's, that it did not rain, which Catherine was sure it would not. At twelve o'clock, they were to call for her in Pulteney Street;and "Remember--twelve o'clock," was her parting speech to her new friend. Of her other, her older, her more established friend, Isabella, of whose fidelity and worth she had enjoyed a fortnight's experience, she scarcely saw anything during the evening. Yet, though longing to make her acquainted with her happiness, she cheerfully submitted to the wish of Mr. Allen, which took them rather early away, and her spirits danced within her, as she danced in her chair all the way home.