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There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.
Close your eyes and feel yourself sink into the support beneath you and let all the worries of the day drift away.
This is your time and your space.
Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.
There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.
Happy listening.
Chapter 7 continued.
As they travelled,
Catherine and John Thorpe struck up a conversation.
Her companion's discourse now sunk from its hitherto animated pitch to nothing more than a short,
Decisive sentence of praise or condemnation on the face of every woman they met.
Catherine,
After listening and agreeing as long as she could,
With all the civility and deference of the youthful female mind,
Fearful of hazarding opinion of its own in opposition to that of a self-assured man,
Especially where the beauty of her own sex was concerned,
Ventured at length to vary the subject by a question which had been long uppermost in her thoughts.
Have you ever read Udolpho,
Mr Thorpe?
Udolpho?
Oh,
Lord,
Not I.
I've never read novels.
I have something else to do.
Catherine,
Humbled and ashamed,
Was going to apologise for her question,
But he prevented her by saying,
Novels are all so full of nonsense and stuff.
There's not been a tolerably decent one come out since Tom Jones,
Except The Monk.
I read that the other day,
But as for the others,
They're the stupidest things in creation.
I think you must like Udolpho if you were to read it.
It's so very interesting.
Not I,
Faith.
No,
If I read any,
It shall be Mrs Radcliffe's.
Her novels are amusing enough.
They're worth reading.
Some fun in nature in them.
Udolpho was written by Mrs Radcliffe,
Said Catherine with some hesitation for the fear of mortifying him.
No,
Sure,
Was it?
Aye,
I remember so it was.
I was thinking of that other stupid book written by that woman they make such a fuss about.
She who married the French emigrant.
I suppose you mean Camilla?
Yes,
That's the book.
Such unnatural stuff.
An old man playing it seesaw.
I took up the first volume once and looked it over,
But I soon found it would not do.
Indeed,
I guess what sort of stuff it might be before I saw it.
As soon as I heard she'd married an emigrant,
I was sure I should never be able to get through it.
I have never read it.
You had no loss,
I assure you.
It's the horridest nonsense you can imagine,
And there's nothing in the world in it,
But an old man's playing it seesaw and learning Latin.
Upon my soul,
There's not.
This critique,
The justness of which was unfortunately lost on poor Catherine,
Brought them to the door of Mrs Thorpe's lodgings,
And the feeling of the discerning and unprejudiced reader of Camilla gave way to the feelings of the dutiful and affectionate son as they met Mrs Thorpe,
Who had described them from above in the passage.
Oh,
Mother,
How do you do?
Said Mr Thorpe,
Giving her a hearty shake of the hand.
Where did you get that quiz of a hat?
It makes you look like an old witch.
Here is Moorland,
And I've come to stay a few days with you,
So you must look out for a couple of good beds somewhere near.
This address seemed to satisfy all the fondest wishes of the mother's heart,
For she received her son with a most delighted and exulting affection.
On his two younger sisters,
He then bestowed an equal portion of his fraternal tenderness,
For he asked each of them how they did and observed they both looked very ugly.
These manners did not please Catherine,
But he was James's friend and Isabella's brother,
And her judgment was further brought off by Isabella's assuring her,
When they withdrew to see the new hat,
That John thought her the most charming girl in the world,
And by John's engaging her before they parted to dance with him that evening.
Had she been older or vainer,
Such attacks might have done little,
But she did not.
But where youth and diffidence are united,
It requires uncommon steadiness of reason to resist the attraction of being engaged as a partner.
And the consequence was that when the two Moorlands,
After sitting an hour with the Thorpes,
Set off to walk together to Mr.
Allan's,
And James,
As the door was closed on them,
Said,
Well,
Catherine,
How do you like my friend Thorpe?
Instead of answering as she probably would have done,
Had there been no friendship and no flattery in the case,
I do not like him at all,
She directly replied,
I like him very much,
He seems very agreeable.
He is as good-natured a fellow as ever lived,
A little of a rattle,
But that will recommend him to your sex,
I believe,
And how do you like the rest of the family?
Very,
Very much indeed,
Isabella particularly,
I am very glad to hear you say so,
She is just the kind of young woman I could wish to see you attached to,
She has so much good sense and is so thoroughly unaffected and amiable,
I always wanted you to know her,
And she seems very fond of you,
She said the highest things in your praise that could possibly be,
And the praise of such a girl as Miss Thorpe,
Even you,
Catherine,
Taking her hat with affection,
May be proud of.
Indeed I am,
She replied,
I love her exceedingly,
And I am delighted to find you like her too,
You hardly mention anything of her when you wrote to me after your visit there,
Because I thought I should soon see you myself,
I hope you will be a great deal together while you are in Bath,
She is a most amiable girl,
Such a superior understanding,
How fond all the family are of her,
She is evidently the general favourite,
And how much she must be admired in a place such as this,
Very much indeed I fancy,
Mr.
Allen thinks her the prettiest girl in Bath,
I dare say he does,
And I do not know any man who is a better judge of beauty than Mr.
Allen,
I need not ask you whether you are happy here,
My dear Catherine,
With such a companion and friend as Isabella Thorpe,
It would be impossible for you to be otherwise,
And the Allens,
I am sure,
Are very kind to you,
Yes,
Very kind,
I was never so happy before,
And now you'll come it will be more delightful than ever,
How good it is for you to come so far,
And purpose just to see me.
Inquiries and communications concerning brothers and sisters,
The situation of some,
The growth of the rest,
And other family matters,
Now passed between them,
Continued with only one small digression on James's part,
In praise of Miss Thorpe,
Till they reached Polkney Street,
Where he was welcomed with great kindness by Mr.
And Mrs.
Allen,
Invited by the former to dine with him,
And summoned by the latter,
To guess the price,
And weigh the new merits of a new muffin tiffet.
A pre-engagement in Edgar's buildings prevented his accepting the invitation of one friend,
And obliged him to hurry away as soon as he satisfied the demands of the other.
The time of the two parties uniting in the Octagon Room,
Being correctly adjusted,
Catherine was then left to the luxury of a raised,
Restless,
And frightened imagination,
Over the pages of Udolpho,
Lost from all worldly concerns of dressing and dinner,
Incapable of soothing Mrs.
Allen's fears on the delay of an expected dressmaker,
And having only one minute and sixty to bestow even on the reflection of her own felicity,
In being already engaged for the evening.
