Spoilt by Great Acquaintance

“How do you do, General Tilney?” said Catherine in a voice that was more composed than she felt.

The general’s answer held the barest hint of civility. “Very well, I thank you.”

“I am glad to hear it. I am glad that you are not in Bath for your health, sir.”

Lord Whiting made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh smothered with a cough.

“Ma’am,” the general said to a woman dressed in half-mourning who was seated next to him, “May I present Mrs. Tilney?”

“So this is the paragon that has captured dear Henry!” the woman cried. “Why, she is adorable! So very young!”

“Lady Beauclerk,” the general informed Catherine, “is a neighbor and a very old friend of the Tilney family.”

“We so longed to see you when you were staying at Northanger Abbey last year,” said Lady Beauclerk, fixing Catherine with her bright eye. “But we were in mourning then for dear Sir Arthur and not paying calls. But oh, did I wonder about this Miss Morland who had at last conquered Henry Tilney! The neighborhood had quite despaired of either of the Tilney boys finding women good enough to suit their fine taste. I confess I nurtured a hope that dear Henry might take pity on my Judith and offer for her. My love,” she called to a young woman who had just stepped off the dance floor, “come here and be presented to Mrs. Tilney. I must present you to her, though she is so much younger than you, for she is a married lady, and you are not.”

Miss Beauclerk was fair and delicate, ethereally pale; one of those graceful, fluttering creatures who make an ordinary mortal, even one in a new gown of the most delicate muslin, feel like a plodding beast. Catherine, confused by Lady Beauclerk’s speech and disconcerted at meeting this lovely woman who apparently had once been a rival for her husband’s hand, could do nothing but curtsy. As she rose, she felt a hand under her elbow, and knew with a triumphant certainty that Henry stood beside her.

“We were unprepared to meet so many old friends, sir,” Henry said to his father, “but I am happy to perform the introductions for my wife.”

“As you choose,” said the general with every appearance of fashionable boredom.

“I hope you will not forget to introduce me, Tilney,” said a young exquisite standing behind Lady Beauclerk’s chair.

Henry’s hand tightened on Catherine’s elbow momentarily. “With the greatest pleasure. My sweet, may I present Sir Philip Beauclerk?”

“Your servant, Mrs. Tilney,” said Sir Philip. He held out his hand, and Catherine, unsure what else to do, gave him hers; in a single, graceful movement, Sir Philip bowed and raised her hand to his lips.

“Henry dear, you are remiss in explaining family history to dear Mrs. Tilney,” said Lady Beauclerk. “Philip is my late husband’s nephew and heir, and has put us out of our home.”

“You will give Mrs. Tilney the idea that I am the world’s greatest scoundrel, ma’am,” said Sir Philip. “I was happy to have you and Judith stay on at Beaumont, and am still, but you would remove to the Dower House.”

“I dare say Mrs. Tilney understands that if I had only myself to consider, I should have been very happy to stay and act as your hostess, but it would have been most improper for Judith to live with her unmarried cousin.”

“As you say, ma’am,” said Sir Philip with another graceful bow.

“If only you had taken Judith off my hands years ago, Henry! The least you can do is dance with her.”

Well and truly caught, there was nothing else for Henry to do but request Miss Beauclerk’s hand in the set that was forming, and nothing for Miss Beauclerk to do but accept, which she did as gracefully as she did everything. With another squeeze of the elbow and a significant, apologetic look, Henry was gone — gone to the dance floor, with another woman on his arm — and such a lovely woman!


Lord Whiting also gave Catherine an apologetic look, but she understood it would not have done to stand up again with him so soon; instead he took Eleanor to the other set forming. Catherine was left alone, with such feelings of discomfort as can be imagined: the general set to ignore her, Lady Beauclerk set to tease her, and Henry gone; but a rescuer was at hand.