Amanda Grange: Henry Tilney's Diary

‘She will make a sad, heedless young housekeeper to be sure,’ said Mrs Morland, ‘but there is nothing like practice for curing any deficiencies.’

‘Luckily I have an independent fortune as well as my living, and Catherine will not need to learn economy. But there is something I should mention,’ I said, for it was impossible to conceal it; and indeed I would not conceal something of such importance. ‘Although I am of independent means, and I have a home to offer Catherine, my father is set against the match.’

They were troubled at that.

‘How set against it?’ asked Mr Morland.

‘He has forbidden it.’

‘Well, that is set against it indeed!’ said Mr Morland.

‘That is bad. That is very bad. But what can he have against our Catherine?’ asked Mrs Morland.

‘Nothing at all, save that he wished me to marry an heiress,’ I explained.

‘Well, that must be changed before you can marry,’ said Mrs Morland, to my dismay. ‘I will not send Catherine into a family where she is not welcome, for it will only make her unhappy. Will he come round, do you think?’

‘I hope so,’ I said.

‘We must all hope so, for whilst your father expressly forbids the connection, we cannot allow ourselves to encourage it,’ said Mr Morland. ‘There must be his consent, or else how is Catherine to be happy if he will not recognize her?’

I could say no more, and so I thanked them for hearing me and went outside, where I found Catherine, and made her acquainted with everything her parents had said.

‘I am sure my father will come round eventually,’ I said. ‘He cannot fail to love you, once the first shock has passed.’

‘And if he does?’

‘Then I will have to carry you off in a chaise and four, for I mean to marry you, with or without our parents’ approval.’

Friday 3 May

Catherine has promised to write to me, and only that makes it tolerable for me to return to Woodston, where I must tend my plantations, preach my sermons and work upon my father until he gives his consent to the match.

Monday 6 May

At home again, and already writing to Catherine. Eleanor is delighted for me, and we commiserate with each other on our father’s nature, which is keeping us both from happiness. Though my case seems the more hopeful of the two, I fear that neither Eleanor nor I will be happy very soon.

Wednesday 15 May

Although my father has banned me from Northanger, and although I am resolved never to spend a night beneath his roof, I nevertheless drove over there today to attempt to reason with him once again. I found him in the stables but when I tried to speak to him he would only roar, ‘If I cannot prevent it, I will not condone it. You will not taint the abbey with such a one as Miss ...’ He ended in a splutter as he could not even bring himself to say her name.

‘She will not live here, but at Woodston,’ I said.

‘And if your brother dies, what then? Am I to leave all this’ – his arm swept wide – ‘to a penniless girl with an enormous family of needy mouths to feed? To have the name of Tilney defiled by such a creature?’

I mastered my temper and explained that Catherine’s family were neither needy nor so very numerous as he supposed, but he would not listen, and repeating that I was no longer welcome at the abbey, he mounted his horse and very nearly rode me down as he galloped from the stable yard.

Eleanor was my consolation. As I walked with her, I said, ‘How do you bear it? You may come and live with me at Woodston any time, you know.’

‘It is not so bad,’ she said. ‘Now that Margaret and Charles have returned to the neighbourhood I have more opportunities to escape, at least for awhile, and the Lady Frasers are here again. You know how much our father has always liked titles and he encourages me to visit them, as well as to invite them here. And I have Catherine’s and Thomas’s letters.’

‘What we need is a deus ex machina ,’ I said to her. ‘If this were a play, then a platform would lower itself from the heavens and the gods would step forth and solve our problems with a wave of their hands. Some unforeseen and unexpected conclusion would present itself to speed a happy ending.’

She smiled, and said, ‘I dread to think what Papa would say if one of the gods descended from the heavens and landed here.’

‘He would probably take Zeus by the hand and lead him round the kitchen garden, pointing out the improvements he has made,’ I remarked.

She gave a wry smile and said, ‘Alas, such things only happen in novels.’

We were interrupted at that moment by Alice, my sister’s maid, who looked about her furtively then said, ‘A letter for you, miss.’

Thinking it must be from Catherine, I drew closer, but on seeing the first few words I realized it was not from Catherine at all.

‘So Alice now brings you Thomas’s notes as well?’

‘After our father intercepted his second note, it seemed the only way.’

I wandered away to let her read it in private, but after only a minute she called me back in great excitement, smiling and then bursting into laughter.

‘Oh, Henry!’ she said, and then, laughing too much to speak, she handed me the letter. I took it, mystified, and read:

My Dearest, Darling Eleanor,

I am on my way to Northanger Abbey and I hope to reach you just after this letter, if not before. Something wonderful has happened, though of course it is terrible as well, and I am not at all pleased, but sadly grieved. Only you will not believe it, my uncle and cousins are all dead, killed in a freak accident! They were staying at their castle in Spain, for you know my uncle has property everywhere. The four of them were out hunting sweet, fluffy animals at the time – for they were evil men and could never limit themselves to shooting things only for food – when a storm blew up, and they were all of them struck by lightning. According to the peasant who witnessed the whole, the lightning jumped from one to another of them, so that the same bolt finished them all. So now I am a Viscount and the proud possessor of a house in town, a house in Bath, a vast country estate and of course a castle in Spain. I am fabulously wealthy, so wealthy that I cannot begin to count my fortune, but I can tell you that I have an income of a clear thirty thousand pounds a year. Dear Eleanor, you who loved me before I inherited my riches, you who are my own dear heart, say you will make me the happiest of men. I have written to your father, explaining the change in my circumstances and telling him I will wait upon him on Wednesday.

Your own

Thomas

I laughed along with my sister.

‘My dear Eleanor, you will be the happiest of women, and there is no one who deserves it more,’ I said.

‘I wonder what my father will say?’

We looked at each other and laughed, wondering how he would manage such a volte face .

‘But stay,’ I said, as I handed the letter back to her. ‘It says he will be here on Wednesday. That is today. The letter must have been delayed.’

Eleanor looked at me, then at Alice, then said, ‘Quickly! I must change my dress!’

She had hardly reached the front door, however, when my father, newly returned from his ride, emerged, beaming all over his face.

‘Do you remember that delightful young man who joined us at the abbey some years ago, a friend of Frederick’s, Mr Morris?’ he asked Eleanor. ‘But of course you do. I felt sure you liked him, and he you. I believe he wrote to you once or twice, I remember intercepting his letters. It was quite wrong of him to write to you, of course, but it was evident he liked you and I admired him for it. It showed a pleasing spirit and a great intelligence in recognizing your worth. I happened to hear that he would be in the neighbourhood and it is possible he might call. You had better see to your dress, it will not do to have him finding you like this. Put on that new gown you had last month, I am sure he will like it.’