Eleanor and I knew at once what that meant: it was time to dress for dinner. Eleanor hurried Miss Morland upstairs. I retired to my own room, amusing myself by imagining Miss Morland’s feelings at being in a real abbey, with its broad staircases of shining oak, its wide galleries and its quadrangles; though these could be but a poor substitute for dungeons, cells and secret passages.
I was soon dressed, and met Eleanor on the landing as I was on my way down to dinner. She was walking there, looking anxious.
‘Miss Morland has not yet come out of her room, and you know how Father is about punctuality,’ she said in dismay.
‘Then go in, and see if she is ready.’
‘Yes, I think I must. I do not want to hurry her, but ...’
And so saying, she disappeared into Miss Morland’s room. I went downstairs to find my father pacing the drawing room and looking at his pocket watch.
‘Where are they?’ he demanded irascibly.
‘They will be here directly,’ I said. ‘Ladies, you know, take longer to dress than gentlemen.’
‘It is a confounded nuisance,’ he said, as though he had an appointment, when in fact there was no need whatsoever for dinner to be served at that minute, other than his love of running the house with the precision of a military campaign.
Eleanor and Miss Morland appeared a few minutes later. My father’s irritation did not noticeably subside and he barked, ‘Dinner to be on the table at once!’ to the footman. He offered Miss Morland his arm and, leaving me to escort Eleanor, he went through to the dining room.
‘I hope we are not to have this every night,’ I said to Eleanor, thinking that Miss Morland looked frightened.
‘I think Catherine will never dare be late again,’ said Eleanor.
‘You must send your maid to help her tomorrow night,’ I said, ‘for she has not brought one with her and it must be difficult for her to dress on her own.’
‘I did, but she sent Annie away. She was busy examining her room when I went in, and small wonder, for it is all new to her. She was fascinated by the old chest. It is a curious object, I suppose—’
She looked at me curiously as I began to laugh.
‘Depend upon it, she was thinking it hid some fiendish secret: a body, perhaps, or a mound of jewels!’ I said.
Eleanor smiled and replied, ‘Henry, no!’
‘Why not? She is excited at being in an abbey, and she would not be a heroine if she did not entertain such a notion for a minute, at least.’
‘Then she must have been sadly disappointed, for she found nothing but linen!’ said Eleanor with a laugh. Then, more seriously, ‘And is she a heroine?’
‘She is most certainly that. But, I take it, you mean, is she my heroine?’
‘Well?’
‘As to that, I cannot say. I like her.’ My eyes lingered on her as she took her place at table. ‘Yes, I like her very much. But I have seen her very little as yet, you know. One can never know someone by dancing with them at assemblies and the like. Here, where I will see her day by day for the next few weeks, I will be able to see if the liking is just that, or anything more.’
‘And she will be able to see you.’
‘Also important,’ I said. ‘I want no unwilling bride, however much such creatures might amuse me in a novel; for whilst it is very pleasant to read about young ladies incarcerated in castles, with devious guardians and sinister suitors forcing them into horrible marriages, it is not so pleasant in real life. Then it is better to be surrounded by friends, and to laugh a great deal.’
There was time for no more. We took our places at table and the soup was immediately served.
‘This is a very spacious room,’ said Miss Morland, looking about her.
My father, recovering from his ill humour, for of all things he likes everything to be punctual, was all charm again.
‘It is by no means an ill-sized room,’ he said. ‘Though I am as careless on such subjects as most people, I look upon a tolerably large eating-room as one of the necessaries of life; I suppose that you must have been used to much better-sized apartments at Mr Allen’s?’
A suspicion took hold of me, as it had done before, that he had somehow mistaken her for an heiress, and that that was the cause of his charm. But upon Miss Morland’s saying, ‘No, indeed. Mr Allen’s dining parlour is not more than half as large. I have never seen so large a room as this in my life,’ he was not at all put out, as he surely must have been if he had thought of her as a wealthy young lady. Instead, his good humour increased, and I supposed that he liked having someone to whom he could show off.
‘Why, as I have such rooms, it would be simple not to make use of them,’ he said. ‘But upon my honour, I believe there might be more comfort in rooms of only half their size. Mr Allen’s house, I am sure, must be exactly of the true size for rational happiness. But tell me, Miss Morland, is your room to your liking?’
‘Oh, yes, it is very grand,’ she said. ‘I have never seen a finer chamber.’
‘There are no headless spectres?’ I asked her innocently.
She blushed.
My father frowned and drew her attention back to the dinner. But when he had left us, called away by some letters he needed to answer, the mood grew lighter and I was able to tease her at my leisure. The night was stormy and the wind, which had been rising at intervals the whole afternoon, was heard to moan on occasion down the chimney.
‘Can it really be the wind?’ I said, ‘or is it the low moan of a nun, walled up behind the chimney?’
She shivered and her eyes sparkled.
‘Are there really nuns here? Were there, I mean?’
‘This being an abbey, it is probable,’ I said. ‘Who knows what terrible rites have been enacted within these walls?’
‘Henry!’ said Eleanor.
But she need not have worried, Miss Morland was entranced by the idea. To be in a real abbey was a great excitement to her, and as I watched her I found myself well entertained. To be able to tease a woman is surely as important a part of love as being able to like her or respect her.
‘But what is that?’ I said. ‘The curtain moved! What malevolent being roams outside, waiting to enter?’
Miss Morland was thrilled but said stoutly, ‘It is only the wind, stirring the curtain.’
‘If I could only be sure.’
‘Then pray, Mr Tilney, go and look,’ she said.
‘I am afraid!’ I said.
Eleanor laughed and said, ‘I will.’
‘Ah! Shamed by my sister! A slip of a girl! Then I must do the manly thing.’
And so saying I took a candle from the mantelpiece and made a show of looking behind the curtain, much to Miss Morland’s delight.
‘It is as you say, just the wind,’ I remarked.
By the time the party broke up, it was raining violently. As the storm raged round a corner of the abbey, it closed a distant door with a bang and Miss Morland jumped. Her candle flickered, and her face was a sight to behold.
‘What evil beast pursues us?’ I asked.
She looked at me in awe, then caught my laughter and blushed at her own ready thoughts, but although she knew I had been teasing her, there was still a sense of expectancy about her; enough to give her a few pleasurable thrills before her first night in such an ancient building was passed.
‘Do not forget that I am only two doors down from you if you should need anything,’ said Eleanor to Miss Morland, as I left them to go to my own room.
Miss Morland looked grateful; for, whilst it is undoubtedly exciting to think of all the terrible things that might happen in the deep, dark reaches of the night, it is also comforting to know that help is on hand if any headless spectres should happen to creep out of the woodwork.
Saturday 23 March
A bright morning succeeded the tempest of the night, and the sun was streaming in at the windows as I sat down to breakfast at a little after eight o’clock. The ladies were not yet up and my father had already eaten so that I was alone, until Miss Morland hurried into the room; afraid, no doubt, that my father would be there, and that he would be as angry about timekeeping as he had been yesterday evening.
‘Miss Morland! You are up bright and early. And how are you this morning. You slept well, I hope? No sinister apparitions disturbed you in the night? No weeping nuns or dreadful monks made their way into your room, their faces hidden by cowled habits, and dangerously flickering candles held in their bloodstained hands?’
She looked embarrassed and confessed that the wind had kept her awake.
‘But we have a charming morning after it,’ she added, eager to change the subject, for she was ashamed of her weakness; another thing which endeared her to me. ‘Storms and sleeplessness are nothing when they are over.’ Her eyes wandered out to the gardens. ‘What beautiful hyacinths!’ she remarked. ‘I have just learnt to love a hyacinth.’
I allowed her to change the subject and we discussed flowers at length, until my father walked in. His smiling compliments announced a happy state of mind, but his hint of early rising unsettled her and evidently brought all her memories of his dislike of tardiness to mind. She murmured something about having been kept awake by the wind and therefore sleeping longer than usual, and he apologized for the weather, as though it had been his fault, and said he hoped she would not be similarly discommoded this evening. She sought for a safe topic of conversation and found it in the breakfast set. She remarked on its fineness and my father, who had chosen it, was restored to good humour.
‘It is very kind of you to say so; you, who must have seen much finer things in Mrs Allen’s house,’ he said expansively. ‘But it is neat and simple, and I have a great liking for it. Moreover, I think it right to encourage the manufacture of my own country; and for my part, to my uncritical palate, the tea is as well-flavoured from the clay of Staffordshire, as from that of Dresden or Sèvres. It is quite an old set, of course, purchased two years ago. The manufacture has much improved since that time; I have seen some beautiful specimens when last in town, and if I were not perfectly without vanity of that kind, I might have been tempted to order a new set. I trust, however, that an opportunity might ere long occur of selecting one – though not for myself.’
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