Honest, good-natured, artless and – for she likes me – intelligent! And also unwittingly funny, for she replied, ‘Me? Yes; I cannot speak well enough to be unintelligible.’

I laughed.

‘Bravo! An excellent satire on modern language,’ I returned, pleased.

She was perplexed, which made her look even more enchanting.

‘But pray tell me what you mean,’ she said.

‘Shall I indeed? Do you really desire it? But you are not aware of the consequences; it will involve you in a very cruel embarrassment, and certainly bring on a disagreement between us.’

‘No, no; it shall not do either; I am not afraid,’ she returned.

‘Well, then, I only meant that your attributing my brother’s wish of dancing with Miss Thorpe to good nature alone convinced me of your being superior in good nature yourself to all the rest of the world.’

She blushed and disclaimed, and the peach flush suffusing her cheeks made her eyes look even more bright.

Her blushes and smiles subsided, however, when she happened to glance to her right and saw Miss Thorpe standing up with my brother. She was astonished; I, alas, was not at all surprised. Frederick had decided to seduce Miss Thorpe and there was not anything I could do to stop him. The only person who could stop him now was Miss Thorpe herself.

If she had been defenceless I would have stepped in, but she was in Bath with her family, and engaged to a good and honest man. And so I let him have his way, knowing that she had plenty of people to look after her, and that one word from her own lips would send Frederick on his way. For although he is a rake he is not cruel, and has never yet seduced a woman too young or friendless to be able to resist his charms.

Miss Thorpe, seeing herself observed, shrugged her shoulders and smiled, the only explanation of this extraordinary change which could at that time be given; but as it was not quite enough for Miss Morland’s comprehension, she spoke her astonishment in very plain terms to me: ‘I cannot think how it could happen! Isabella was so determined not to dance.’

‘And did Isabella never change her mind before?’ I asked.

‘Oh! But, because – And your brother! After what you told him from me, how could he think of going to ask her?’

‘I cannot take surprise to myself on that head. You bid me be surprised on your friend’s account, and therefore I am; but as for my brother, his conduct in the business, I must own, has been no more than I believed him perfectly equal to. The fairness of your friend was an open attraction; her firmness, you know, could only be understood by yourself.’

‘You are laughing; but, I assure you, Isabella is very firm in general.’

‘It is as much as should be said of anyone. To be always firm must be to be often obstinate. When properly to relax is the trial of judgment; and, without reference to my brother, I really think Miss Thorpe has by no means chosen ill in fixing on the present hour.’

The dance over, Miss Morland was claimed by her friend, and they walked about the room arm in arm, with Miss Thorpe no doubt explaining why she had broken her steadfast resolve of not dancing, and Miss Morland being surprised and yet generous enough to believe whatever her friend cared to tell her.



Monday 11 March

Just as I thought we were settled in Bath, my father announced at breakfast that we would be returning to the abbey on Saturday se’ennight. A couple of letters were the cause of his change of plan: one from his steward, saying that his presence was needed at home and one from General Courteney, saying that he and the Marquis of Longtown had been unavoidably delayed and would not be coming to Bath after all.

Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief that the general and the marquis would not be joining us, but she was as disappointed as I was to be leaving Bath until my father said, ‘You must invite your friend to come with us, Eleanor. I am sure she would like to see the abbey and it will be company for you, you know.’

I was surprised, not sorry for the suggestion and neither was Eleanor.

My father set out immediately to ask the Allens for their consent to the scheme and I asked Eleanor if she knew of any reason why our father has singled out Miss Morland, more than any of the other young ladies of our acquaintance.

‘I like her very well, and so do you,’ I mused, ‘but our father is disposed to dislike people in general, and I see nothing in Miss Morland which would impress him.’

‘Except perhaps for her sweetness and her willingness to please and be pleased,’ said Eleanor. ‘I hope she accepts our invitation but I fear she might not want to leave her brother. I am sorry for him, engaging himself to Miss Thorpe. She is not good enough for him.’

‘No, far from it, but she is pretty, lively and flirtatious, and he is not the first young man to lose his head over such a one as Miss Thorpe.’

‘Frederick seems interested in her, too.’

‘Frederick is interested in her only because he cannot have her; unless he has some mischief planned,’ I remarked. ‘However, Miss Thorpe knows what she is about. She will have to look out for herself. It is Miss Morland in whom I have an interest, and so, too, for some reason, does our father.’

‘Perhaps it is just that he noticed I have a liking for her.’

‘I think it must be, for I can think of no other reason. And so she is to visit us at the abbey?’

‘I have not asked her yet. She might say no.’

‘What? Say no to staying in a real abbey?’ I enquired. ‘No lover of Gothic novels could resist.’

‘You must promise me not to tell her it is haunted. I think she might believe you, and I would not have her frightened.’

‘Frightened? My dear Eleanor, if she saw a ghost in the abbey it would delight her for the rest of her life. A headless horseman or a spectral woman wringing her hands, or some ill-fated nun, would thrill her to the core.’

She smiled.

‘I suppose it would. Very well, you may tease her if you will.’

Miss Morland arrived at that moment and my father returned soon after. He added his entreaties to Eleanor’s and Miss Morland was very quickly persuaded to accept the invitation, as long as her parents gave their consent.

She returned to the Allens happily, leaving Eleanor and myself scarcely any less happy with the promise of her company.



Tuesday 12 March

Our change of plan has necessitated a change in my arrangements. I called on the Plainters to let them know that I will not be able to dine with them on the twenty-fifth and as they were just about to set out for a drive with a party of friends they persuaded me to go with them. I knew some of the party but there were some I did not know and some I wished I did not know. Miss Smith was there, as scathing as ever about her fellows; barbed comments delivered with humour I can enjoy but not those without. Miss Crane was also there, shy and demure. I tried to laugh her out of it, for, like Miss Morland, she is fresh from the country, but she would not even smile. I asked her about her hobbies – she has none; her favourite books – she does not read; the assemblies – she has no opinion. I relinquished her with gratitude to Margaret and found myself the object of Miss Brown’s attention. Miss Brown said she was not surprised we were leaving, for Bath had nothing to offer: the assemblies were dull, the people without taste and the concerts not worth listening to. I confounded her by saying that I liked the place and was only sorry not to be staying longer.

‘Well, and do any of the ladies take your fancy?’ asked Charles as we reached our destination and waited for the rest of the party to dismount or climb out of the carriages.

‘Alas, no.’

‘I thought at one time you were partial to Miss Morland but I hear she is to marry Thorpe,’ he said, as he threw the reins of his horse over a branch.

I was astonished.

‘Do you indeed?’ I said.

‘Yes. I had it from Thorpe himself. He tried to sell me a horse and when he saw he could not sell it to me for myself he tried to sell it to me for Margaret, remarking that he had intended to give it to his betrothed but that Miss Morland did not happen to like bay.’

‘But is it certain?’ I asked. ‘It seems a strange match to me.’ Thinking: And a highly unlikely one.

‘Thorpe seems to think so. His sister marrying Miss Morland’s brother gave him the idea and Miss Morland apparently agreed.’

Margaret had by this time joined us and remarked, ‘I should be very surprised if Miss Morland thinks herself engaged. There has been no announcement and from what I can gather, the proposal was hardly conventional: Mr Thorpe said that marriage was a good thing and when Miss Morland agreed he took it as a “yes” to a question he does not appear to have asked.’

‘That seems more likely,’ I said, ‘for whenever I have seen them together she seemed to regard him with aversion.’

‘I regard him the same way myself,’ said Charles. ‘He has no interest in anyone but himself and tells the most preposterous stories about his exploits. To hear him talk, anyone would think he was the best swimmer, rider, billiard-player, boxer, hunter and everything else the world has ever seen.’

‘Charles would not let me invite him today, even though we were short of gentlemen,’ said Margaret.

‘Ah, so that is why you invited me,’ I said.

‘Of course,’ said Charles with a laugh. ‘Why else?’

‘And, being short of gentlemen, you would very much oblige me if you would escort Mrs Redbridge and her daughter to the top of the hill. They are waiting for a gentleman’s arm.’