Henry Tilney's Diary (9781101559024) by Amanda Grange Page B

and a desire to gossip and everything to do with my oratory skills, I am perfectly convinced. Indeed, if not for Mrs Attwood’s new bonnet, I would have had the ladies’ undivided attention. The gentlemen I was more certain of. They had no interest in bonnets, new or otherwise, and listened in pleasing silence, broken only by an occasional snore.
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    Thursday 21 February
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    Having made arrangements for my absence with Langton, my pleasingly eager curate, I drove over to the abbey where I found Eleanor with her nose in a novel.
    â€˜There is no time to read,’ I said. ‘We must be off to Bath.’
    â€˜My father has had to delay our journey on account of business,’ she said. ‘We do not now go until Saturday, and so I thought I would start one of the books you bought for me in London.’
    â€˜I hope it is a good one, for we will need something to entertain us until we leave for Bath.’
    â€˜It is excellent,’ she said. ‘Even better than A Sicilan Romance . I believe it is Mrs Radcliffe’s best novel.’
    I saw the cover and said, ‘Ah, you have chosen The Mysteries of Udolpho . Excellent.’
    She had only just begun, and after allowing me to catch up we read on together, becoming quickly engrossed – so much so, that we could scarcely bring ourselves to put the book down in order to eat. Poor Julia’s trials were as nothing to Emily’s tribulations. Sinister castles, murderers and banditti all conspired to instil terror in our heroine as she travelled through Europe, and we passed the day very pleasantly.
    The evening was less pleasant. My father was at home, testy because his business had compelled him to delay our visit to Bath and expressing his dissatisfaction with his doctors and their advice that he should take the waters.
    â€˜Stuff and nonsense,’ he said. ‘But at least some of my friends will be there.’
    He did not appear to think it unfair that he had refused Eleanor the pleasure of a friend for company, for although she will have Mrs Hughes, and greatly enjoy her company, she needs companions of her own age, too. But perhaps Miss Morland . . . Though some years younger than Eleanor, I think the two of them will like each other.
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    Friday 22 February
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    Being eager to continue with Udolpho , Eleanor and I set out for the arbour straight after breakfast so as to escape our father’s notice. It was no hardship to be out of doors, the morning being sunny, and our being so well wrapped up in coats and cloaks. We were soon thrilling to the adventures of Emily and cursing the evil Montoni. We had just reached the moment where Emily, lifting the black veil, caught a glimpse of what was on the other side and fainted, when my father came into the garden.
    â€˜Eleanor! I have here a note, addressed to you, from a Mr Morris. In it, he talks of the house party we held in the autumn. It is, I suppose, the purpose of the rambling note to thank you as hostess of the party, though he expresses himself badly and thinks it necessary to refer to your kindness, your beauty, your humour and your graciousness in every other sentence.’ He tapped the note against his other hand and frowned, deep in thought. ‘Morris. Morris. I do not remember him. One of Frederick’s friends, I suppose. Did you like him?’
    â€˜Yes, Father, I did,’ said Eleanor, with an expression of hope.
    â€˜He was wealthy?’ asked my father.
    Hope vanished.
    â€˜I think not.’
    â€˜He has a title perhaps?’ pursued my father.
    â€˜He is the nephew of a viscount,’ I put in.
    â€˜Is he?’ asked my father with interest. ‘And the viscount has no sons?’
    â€˜He has three,’ said Eleanor, disdaining deceit.
    â€˜Oh, in that case . . . you must write to him – I will dictate the letter – thanking him for his note but making it clear that any further communication is neither