Henry Tilney's Diary (9781101559024) (9 page)

‘But whether that will be a good thing or a bad thing remains to be seen. Papa will not countenance a match, you know. He wants you to marry a man of standing, of great wealth and grand position. Someone who will bring renown to the name of Tilney, and, through marriage, add vast estates to our own.'

‘Yes, I know he does, but you go too fast. I have only just met Mr Morris, and although I will confess to having had some conversation with him this morning when you were out with your dogs, I know very little of him and he knows very little of me. There has been no talk of marriage, nor will there be for a very long time, if at all.'

‘But it could happen. Guard yourself, Eleanor. I would not want to see you hurt.'

We sat for some time but, as Mr Morris did not appear, Eleanor at last suggested we continue. She read ever more eagerly as we followed poor Julia's adventures, and so engrossed were we that we did not notice the arrival of Mr Morris until he cleared his throat.

I looked at him with new eyes. He was handsome enough, with a good bearing and a neat style of dress; nothing ostentatious and yet not shabby; and I wondered how I felt about the idea of his becoming my brother-in-law. His gaze, as it fell on Eleanor, was rapt, and that was a point in his favour, for anyone who marries Eleanor must adore her to have my blessing.

‘Mr Morris. This is a surprise,' I remarked.

He tore his gaze away from Eleanor, who had flushed, and made his bow.

‘I hope I am not intruding,' he said.

‘Not at all. We hoped you would join us, did we not, Eleanor?' I said.

‘We did, indeed.'

He looked surprised and bashfully pleased. This endeared him even more to Eleanor, who invited him to sit down.

‘I see you have brought your book with you.'

‘I rather hoped we might . . . that is to say, it was most enjoyable to share the novel . . . I do so enjoy reading aloud . . . I thought we might do it again.'

‘By all means,' said Eleanor.

‘I must confess,' he said, ‘that is to say, I could not sleep and so I succumbed to temptation and read some further passages.'

‘So did we!' said Eleanor. ‘That is, we have read on this morning.'

‘Ah! Then you know that Julia, helped by her faithful servant, escaped from the marquis and fled to a convent?' he asked.

‘Yes, we do. And do you know about Hippolitus?' I asked.

‘That he is alive, having only been severely wounded and not killed? Yes, I know,' he said. ‘Also, that he sent an emissary to the castle to discover what had happened to Julia, and, finding that she had escaped, he followed her to the convent – only to find that she had fled the convent when the cruel
Abate
had tried to force her to take the veil.'

‘And do you know about Ferdinand?' asked Eleanor.

‘That he managed to escape from his father and that he rescued his sister from the convent?' he asked.

‘Yes,' said Eleanor. ‘And now Julia and Ferdinand are fleeing through the countryside, pursued by their evil father, with Hippolitus trying to find them.'

‘That is exactly the point I have reached,' he said.

‘Then let us continue,' said Eleanor.

As soon as Mr Morris had seated himself beside us she began:

A wind blew up and ruffled the pages. Eleanor drew her cloak more tightly about her and smoothed the pages down before continuing:

Eleanor continued to read, but she had to hold the book closer and closer to her face, for dark clouds began to swarm across the sky. She was stopped in mid sentence by an ominous rumble. The sky turned swiftly from blue to black and then the rain began to fall.

As one we sprang up and ran indoors, where we established ourselves in the library just as the storm broke. It was so dark that I lit the candles and we sat around the fire as lightning tore the sky outside. There was a great clap of thunder and Eleanor jumped.

We all laughed, and she said, ‘This is the perfect weather for our occupation. But I have read enough. Mr Morris, will you not read to us instead?'

He took the book hesitantly but the story would brook no delay and he was soon reading in a strong, clear voice.

It was at this moment that my father opened the library door and entered with his friends. Mr Morris started. I believe we all, for one moment, expected to see a group of
banditti
standing there. But even
banditti
could scarcely have struck us with more dismay, for my father was accompanied by the Marquis of Longtown and General Courteney, with their son and nephew in tow.

‘Ah, there you are,' said our father to Eleanor. ‘We have been looking for you, have we not, gentlemen? We are all looking forward to hearing you sing for us.'

‘We are indeed,' they said.

Eleanor threw me a beseeching look but I could do nothing to rescue her, for my father drew her to her feet and gave her up to the Marquis's son on one side, and the general's nephew on the other. I followed them to the drawing room, where Frederick looked on with a disdainful eye and Miss Barton amused herself by flirting.

Eleanor went over to the piano and I stood by her, ready to turn her music. Poor Morris took a seat in the corner, a picture of dejection.

I believe we would all three of us have preferred to remain by the fire, whilst the thunder rolled and the lightning cracked, reading to each other.

 

 

 

‘And what do you think of Miss Barton?' asked my father this morning, when he met me at breakfast.

The two of us being early risers, there was no one else there.

I did not reply.

‘Well, out with it,' he said.

‘I presume you mean, what do I think of my marrying her?'

‘Of course I do. What, do you think I am asking your opinion of her singing?'

‘I do not think she would make a very good rector's wife,' I said.

The comment gave him pause.

‘Well, perhaps you are right. Miss Halifax, now, she would make an excellent clergyman's wife. Quiet, respectful and already used to good works. You must drive her somewhere this morning. Show her the local beauty spots. The weather is fine, she will enjoy it.'

‘Unfortunately I will be going over to Woodston. I want to make sure there has been no storm damage, and I have to take the afternoon service.'

‘Capital! We will all drive over there together. You will be able to see her in the rectory. I am sure you will appreciate her docile nature there. She has a fortune, you know, thirty thousand pounds. It will enable you to make more improvements to the gardens and to extend the grounds. I will make the arrangements at once. We will set out by ten and be there for lunch.'

‘It is rather too far to go there and back in a day at this time of year.'

‘Nonsense! It will be a moonlit night. Ladies like that sort of thing. They deem it romantic. You can propose to her on the way home.'

There was nothing to be gained by arguing. We duly set out, a small party consisting of my father, the widowed Mrs Halifax, Miss Halifax, myself, Miss Barton – whom, I am convinced, my father has not despaired of as a wife for me, despite her flirtatious character – and General Courteney, with Eleanor seated between the General's nephew and the marquis's son. I am proud to say that she conducted herself admirably. Neither a Julia nor an Emilia could have borne their cruel fate with more nobility.

The day was fortunately more entertaining than I had expected. Miss Barton set her cap at General Courteney, who, although twice her age, is very eligible – and, as she murmured in an aside to me, likely to die quickly and leave her a happy widow.

Miss Halifax murmured politely when Papa pointed out all of Woodston's virtues, but relieved me greatly by telling me, when we walked round the gardens, that she was in love with her local curate. That was the source of her interest in good works! Her mother suspected the attachment and had brought her to the abbey in order to marry her to someone eligible as quickly as possible, so as to crush for ever the curate's pretensions.

‘But in less than six months I will be of age. I will come into my fortune and Mama will have no more sway over me. I intend to marry Horace the following day.'

‘Then it will do no good for me to propose to you in the carriage on the way home?' I said.

‘None whatsoever,' she remarked. ‘Were you about to propose?'

‘No. But my father intended that I should.'

‘Parents are a wonderful thing,' she remarked demurely, but with laughter in her eyes.

One of the horses throwing a shoe, we were home later than expected, and spent the remainder of the evening listening to Miss Halifax play the harp.

‘Mama is certain that I appear to great advantage sitting behind the instrument,' she said to me in a low voice as I turned her music for her.

I could not help laughing and her mother, taking it for an encouraging sign, smiled benignly.

It is on such occasions that I wish I were a hundred, then no one would be trying to find me a wife!

 

 

 

Having been so cruelly interrupted in our reading on Saturday, we were able to return to it this morning as it was a fine day and most of the party was out riding. It was too cold for us to sit outside, however, and so we retired to the library.

‘I can scarcely wait,' said Eleanor. ‘I was tempted to read ahead, but determined to wait until we could all read on together.'

Mr Morris took up the book. What was our delight to find that Julia was not dead, but had only fainted. Mr Morris laughed, explaining that he had every sympathy for Julia but thought she could perhaps try to faint a little less often, which amused Eleanor, who warmed to him even more. But then to our horror we learned that the dying man Hippolitus had glimpsed in the small room was none other than Ferdinand, who had been beaten by the
banditti
whilst trying to protect his sister. Hippolitus, however, was more fortunate and managed to escape from the banditti with the fair Julia.