Northanger Abbey

"You are so like your dear brother," continued Isabella, "that I
quite doted on you the first moment I saw you.  But so it always
is with me; the first moment settles everything.  The very first
day that Morland came to us last Christmas -- the very first moment
I beheld him -- my heart was irrecoverably gone.  I remember I wore
my yellow gown, with my hair done up in braids; and when I came
into the drawing-room, and John introduced him, I thought I never
saw anybody so handsome before."

Here Catherine secretly acknowledged the power of love; for, though
exceedingly fond of her brother, and partial to all his endowments,
she had never in her life thought him handsome.

"I remember too, Miss Andrews drank tea with us that evening, and
wore her puce-coloured sarsenet; and she looked so heavenly that I
thought your brother must certainly fall in love with her; I could
not sleep a wink all right for thinking of it.  Oh!  Catherine,
the many sleepless nights I have had on your brother's account!
I would not have you suffer half what I have done!  I am grown
wretchedly thin, I know; but I will not pain you by describing my
anxiety; you have seen enough of it.  I feel that I have betrayed
myself perpetually -- so unguarded in speaking of my partiality
for the church!  But my secret I was always sure would be safe with
you."

Catherine felt that nothing could have been safer; but ashamed of
an ignorance little expected, she dared no longer contest the point,
nor refuse to have been as full of arch penetration and affectionate
sympathy as Isabella chose to consider her.  Her brother, she found,
was preparing to set off with all speed to Fullerton, to make known
his situation and ask consent; and here was a source of some real
agitation to the mind of Isabella.  Catherine endeavoured to persuade
her, as she was herself persuaded, that her father and mother would
never oppose their son's wishes.  "It is impossible," said she,
"for parents to be more kind, or more desirous of their children's
happiness; I have no doubt of their consenting immediately."

"Morland says exactly the same," replied Isabella; "and yet I dare
not expect it; my fortune will be so small; they never can consent
to it.  Your brother, who might marry anybody!"

Here Catherine again discerned the force of love.

"Indeed, Isabella, you are too humble.  The difference of fortune
can be nothing to signify."

"Oh!  My sweet Catherine, in your generous heart I know it would
signify nothing; but we must not expect such disinterestedness in
many.  As for myself, I am sure I only wish our situations were
reversed.  Had I the command of millions, were I mistress of the
whole world, your brother would be my only choice."

This charming sentiment, recommended as much by sense as novelty,
gave Catherine a most pleasing remembrance of all the heroines
of her acquaintance; and she thought her friend never looked more
lovely than in uttering the grand idea.  "I am sure they will
consent," was her frequent declaration; "I am sure they will be
delighted with you."

"For my own part," said Isabella, "my wishes are so moderate that
the smallest income in nature would be enough for me.  Where people
are really attached, poverty itself is wealth; grandeur I detest:
I would not settle in London for the universe.  A cottage in some
retired village would be ecstasy.  There are some charming little
villas about Richmond."

"Richmond!"  cried Catherine.  "You must settle near Fullerton.
You must be near us."

"I am sure I shall be miserable if we do not.  If I can but be near
you, I shall be satisfied.  But this is idle talking!  I will not
allow myself to think of such things, till we have your father's
answer.  Morland says that by sending it tonight to Salisbury, we
may have it tomorrow.  Tomorrow?  I know I shall never have courage
to open the letter.  I know it will be the death of me."

A reverie succeeded this conviction -- and when Isabella spoke
again, it was to resolve on the quality of her wedding-gown.

Their conference was put an end to by the anxious young lover
himself, who came to breathe his parting sigh before he set off
for Wiltshire.  Catherine wished to congratulate him, but knew not
what to say, and her eloquence was only in her eyes.  From them,
however, the eight parts of speech shone out most expressively, and
James could combine them with ease.  Impatient for the realization
of all that he hoped at home, his adieus were not long; and they
would have been yet shorter, had he not been frequently detained
by the urgent entreaties of his fair one that he would go.  Twice
was he called almost from the door by her eagerness to have him
gone.  "Indeed, Morland, I must drive you away.  Consider how far
you have to ride.  I cannot bear to see you linger so.  For heaven's
sake, waste no more time.  There, go, go -- I insist on it."

The two friends, with hearts now more united than ever, were
inseparable for the day; and in schemes of sisterly happiness the
hours flew along.  Mrs. Thorpe and her son, who were acquainted with
everything, and who seemed only to want Mr. Morland's consent, to
consider Isabella's engagement as the most fortunate circumstance
imaginable for their family, were allowed to join their counsels,