_Characters._
_Isabella Thorpe and Catherine Morland._
_N.B._—“The progress of the friendship between Catherine and
Isabella was quick as its beginning had been warm; and they passed
so rapidly through every gradation of increasing tenderness, that
there was shortly no fresh proof of it to be given to their friends
or themselves. They called each other by their Christian name, were
always arm-in-arm when they walked, pinned up each other’s train for
the dance, and were not to be divided in the set; and, if a rainy
morning deprived them of other enjoyments, they were still resolute
in meeting, in defiance of wet and dirt, and shut themselves up
to read novels.... The following conversation, which took place
between the two friends in the Pump-room one morning, after an
acquaintance of eight or nine days, is given as a specimen of their
very warm attachment, and of the delicacy, discretion, originality of
thought, and literary taste which marked the reasonableness of that
attachment.”—_Northanger Abbey_, Chap. V. and VI.
_Scene—Part of the Pump-room at Bath._
_Properties required:—A sofa R.C.; a small table L., with the
visitors’ book upon it. Door L. A window up R.C. Enter Isabella Thorpe.
Having to wait a few moments, she shows every sign of impatience. Enter
Catherine Morland._
_Isabella_ (_rising suddenly_). My dearest creature! what can have made
you so late? (_They embrace._) I have been waiting for you at least
this age.
_Catherine_ (_surprised_). Have you, indeed? I am very sorry for it,
but really I thought I was in very good time (_pointing to her watch or
a time-piece_); it is but just one. I hope you have not been here long?
_Isabella._ Oh! these ten ages at least. I am sure I have been here
this half-hour; but now, let us sit down and enjoy ourselves. (_They
sit on the sofa._) I have a hundred things to say to you. In the first
place, I was so afraid it would rain this morning, just as I wanted to
set off; it looked very showery, and that would have thrown me into
agonies! Do you know, I saw the prettiest hat you can imagine in a shop
window in Milsom Street just now—very like yours, only with coquelicot
ribands instead of green; I quite longed for it. But, my dearest
Catherine, what have you been doing with yourself this morning? Have
you gone on with “Udolpho”?
_Catherine._ Yes, I have been reading it ever since I awoke, and I am
got to the black veil.
_Isabella._ Are you, indeed? How delightful! Oh! I would not tell you
what is behind the black veil for the world! Are you not wild to know?
_Catherine._ Oh! yes, quite, what can it be? But do not tell me—I
would not be told upon any account. I know it must be a skeleton, I am
sure it is Laurentina’s skeleton. Oh! I am delighted with the book! I
should like to spend my whole life in reading it, I assure you; if it
had not been to meet you, I would not have come away from it for all
the world.
_Isabella_ (_embracing Catherine impulsively_). Dear creature! how much
I am obliged to you; and when you have finished “Udolpho” we will read
the Italian together; and I have made out a list of ten or twelve more
of the same kind for you.
_Catherine._ Have you, indeed! How glad I am! What are they all?
_Isabella_ (_rising_). I will read you their names directly; here
they are in my pocket-book—(_takes out a small pocket-book from her
reticule and reads_), “Castle of Wolfenbach,” “Clermont,” “Mysterious
Warnings,” “Necromancer of the Black Forest,” “Midnight Bell,” “Orphan
of the Rhine,” and “Horrid Mysteries”—(_shutting the book_). There!
those will last us some time.
_Catherine._ Yes—pretty well, but are they all horrid? are you sure
that they are all horrid?
_Isabella_ (_leaning on the sofa, R. end_). Yes, quite sure; for a
particular friend of mine—a Miss Andrews, a sweet girl, one of the
sweetest creatures in the world, has read every one of them. I wish
you knew Miss Andrews, you would be delighted with her. She is netting
herself the sweetest cloak you can conceive. I think her as beautiful
as an angel, and I am so vexed with the men for not admiring her! I
scold them all amazingly about it.
_Catherine._ Scold them! Do you _scold_ them for not admiring her?
_Isabella._ Yes, that I do. There is nothing I would not do for those
who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves;
it is not my nature. My attachments are always excessively strong. I
told Captain Hunt, at one of our assemblies this winter, that if he
was to tease me all night, I would not dance with him unless he would
allow Miss Andrews to be as beautiful as an angel. The men think us
incapable of real friendship, you know, and I am determined to show
them the difference. Now, if I were to hear anybody speak slightingly
of you (_embrace_) I should fire up in a moment; but that is not at all
likely, for _you_ are just the kind of girl to be a great favourite
with the men.
_Catherine_ (_hanging her head and turning away_). Oh! dear! how can
you say so?
_Isabella._ Oh! I know you very well, you have so much animation,
which is exactly what Miss Andrews wants; for I must confess there is
something amazingly insipid about her. (_Sitting down again._) Oh! I
must tell you, that just after we parted yesterday I saw a young man
looking at you so earnestly.
_Catherine_ (_turning away still more_).
_Isabella._ I am sure he is in love with you.
_Catherine._ Oh! Isabella!
_Isabella_ (_laughing_). It is very true, upon my honour. But I see
how it is; you are indifferent to everybody’s admiration except that
of one gentleman, who shall be nameless. (_Suddenly serious._) Nay,
I cannot blame you, your feelings are easily understood (_rising_);
where the heart is really attached, I know very well how little one
can be pleased with the attentions of anybody else (_walking to R._);
everything is so insipid, so uninteresting, that does not relate to the
beloved object; I can perfectly comprehend your feelings.
_Catherine._ But you should not persuade me that I think so very much
about Mr Tilney, for perhaps I may never see him again.
_Isabella._ Not see him again! (_embracing_) my dearest creature, do
not talk of it. I am sure you would be miserable if you thought so.
_Catherine_ (_smiling_). No, indeed, I should not. I do not pretend
to say that I was not very much pleased with him; but while I have
“Udolpho” to read, I feel as if nobody could make me miserable. Oh!
the dreadful black veil! My dear Isabella, I am sure there must be
Laurentina’s skeleton behind it.
_Isabella_ (_taking Catherine’s arm and walking up and down_). It is
so odd to me that you should never have read “Udolpho” before; but I
suppose Mrs Morland objects to novels.
_Catherine._ No, she does not. She very often reads “Sir Charles
Grandison” herself; but new books do not fall in our way.
_Isabella._ “Sir Charles Grandison”! that is an amazing horrid book, is
it not? I remember Miss Andrews could not get through the first volume.
_Catherine._ It is not like “Udolpho” at all, but yet I think it is
very entertaining.
_Isabella._ Do you, indeed? You surprise me; I thought it had not
been readable (_stopping short_). But, my dearest Catherine, have you
settled what to wear on your head to-night? I am determined, at all
events, to be dressed exactly like you. The men take notice of _that_
sometimes, you know.
_Catherine_ (_innocently_). But it does not signify if they do.
_Isabella._ Signify! Oh! Heavens! I make it a rule never to mind what
they say. They are very often amazingly impertinent if you do not treat
them with spirit, and make them keep their distance.
_Catherine._ Are they? Well, I never observed _that_. They always
behave very well to me.
_Isabella._ Oh! They give themselves such airs. They are the most
conceited creatures in the world, and think themselves of so much
importance. By the bye, though I have thought of it a hundred times, I
have always forgot to ask you what is your favourite complexion in a
man. Do you like them best dark or fair?
_Catherine._ I hardly know. I never much thought about it. Something
between both, I think; brown—not fair and not very dark.
_Isabella._ Very well, Catherine. That is exactly he. I have not forgot
your description of Mr Tilney—“A brown skin, with dark eyes and rather
dark hair.” Well, my taste is different; I prefer light eyes; and as
to complexion—do you know—I like a sallow better than any other.
But you must not betray me, if you should ever meet with one of your
acquaintance answering that description.
_Catherine_ (_impulsively_). Betray you! what do you mean?
_Isabella._ Nay, do not distress me—I believe I have said too much
already. Pray, let us drop the subject.
_Catherine._ My dearest Isabella, certainly, if you wish it. (_Aside
as Isabella walks towards the door._) I wonder if it _is_ Laurentina’s
skeleton. Oh! it must be Laurentina’s skeleton.
_Isabella_ (_coming suddenly back to Catherine, but looking over her
shoulder towards the door_). For Heaven’s sake let us move away from
this end of the room. Do you know, there are two odious young men who
have been staring at me this half hour? They really put me quite out
of countenance. Let us go and look at the arrivals in the visiting
book. They will hardly follow us there. (_They walk to the book. While
Isabella examines the book, Catherine watches the proceedings off L.
door._) They are not coming this way, are they? I hope they are not so
impertinent as to follow us. Pray let me know if they are coming. I am
determined I will not look up.
_Catherine_ (_at door, with unaffected pleasure_). You need no longer
be uneasy; the gentlemen have just left the Pump-room.
_Isabella_ (_turning hastily round_). And which way are they gone? One
of them was a very good-looking young man.
_Catherine_ (_going to the window_). They are going towards the
Churchyard.
_Isabella_ (_hastily_). Well, I am amazingly glad I have got rid of
them; and now, what say you to going to Edgar’s Buildings with me and
looking at my new hat? You said you should like to see it.
_Catherine._ With pleasure—only—perhaps we may overtake the two young
men.
_Isabella._ Oh! never mind that. If we make haste, we shall pass by
them presently, and I am dying to show you my hat (_taking Catherine’s
hand and drawing her towards the door._)
_Catherine_ (_holding back_). But if we only wait a few minutes there
will be no danger of our seeing them at all.
_Isabella_ (_with great dignity, still holding Catherine’s hand_). I
shall not pay them any such compliment, I assure you. I have no notion
of treating men with such respect. _That_ is the way to spoil them.
Come—and see my new hat. (_Exeunt Catherine and Isabella, hurriedly,
by the door._)
_Curtain._
[Illustration]