Mr. and Mrs. Morland’s surprise
on being applied to by Mr. Tilney for their consent
to his marrying their daughter was, for a few minutes,
considerable, it having never entered their heads to
suspect an attachment on either side; but as nothing,
after all, could be more natural than Catherine’s
being beloved, they soon learnt to consider it with
only the happy agitation of gratified pride, and,
as far as they alone were concerned, had not a single
objection to start. His pleasing manners and
good sense were self-evident recommendations; and
having never heard evil of him, it was not their way
to suppose any evil could be told. Goodwill
supplying the place of experience, his character needed
no attestation. “Catherine would make a
sad, heedless young housekeeper to be sure,”
was her mother’s foreboding remark; but quick
was the consolation of there being nothing like practice.
There was but one obstacle, in short,
to be mentioned; but till that one was removed, it
must be impossible for them to sanction the engagement.
Their tempers were mild, but their principles were
steady, and while his parent so expressly forbade the
connection, they could not allow themselves to encourage
it. That the general should come forward to
solicit the alliance, or that he should even very
heartily approve it, they were not refined enough to
make any parading stipulation; but the decent appearance
of consent must be yielded, and that once obtained
— and their own hearts made them trust
that it could not be very long denied —
their willing approbation was instantly to follow.
His consent was all that they wished for. They
were no more inclined than entitled to demand his
money. Of a very considerable fortune, his son
was, by marriage settlements, eventually secure; his
present income was an income of independence and comfort,
and under every pecuniary view, it was a match beyond
the claims of their daughter.
The young people could not be surprised
at a decision like this. They felt and they deplored
— but they could not resent it; and they
parted, endeavouring to hope that such a change in
the general, as each believed almost impossible, might
speedily take place, to unite them again in the fullness
of privileged affection. Henry returned to what
was now his only home, to watch over his young plantations,
and extend his improvements for her sake, to whose
share in them he looked anxiously forward; and Catherine
remained at Fullerton to cry. Whether the torments
of absence were softened by a clandestine correspondence,
let us not inquire. Mr. and Mrs. Morland never
did — they had been too kind to exact any
promise; and whenever Catherine received a letter,
as, at that time, happened pretty often, they always
looked another way.
The anxiety, which in this state of
their attachment must be the portion of Henry and
Catherine, and of all who loved either, as to its
final event, can hardly extend, I fear, to the bosom
of my readers, who will see in the tell-tale compression
of the pages before them, that we are all hastening
together to perfect felicity. The means by which
their early marriage was effected can be the only
doubt: what probable circumstance could work
upon a temper like the general’s? The
circumstance which chiefly availed was the marriage
of his daughter with a man of fortune and consequence,
which took place in the course of the summer —
an accession of dignity that threw him into a fit
of good humour, from which he did not recover till
after Eleanor had obtained his forgiveness of Henry,
and his permission for him “to be a fool if he
liked it!”
The marriage of Eleanor Tilney, her
removal from all the evils of such a home as Northanger
had been made by Henry’s banishment, to the
home of her choice and the man of her choice, is an
event which I expect to give general satisfaction
among all her acquaintance. My own joy on the
occasion is very sincere. I know no one more
entitled, by unpretending merit, or better prepared
by habitual suffering, to receive and enjoy felicity.
Her partiality for this gentleman was not of recent
origin; and he had been long withheld only by inferiority
of situation from addressing her. His unexpected
accession to title and fortune had removed all his
difficulties; and never had the general loved his
daughter so well in all her hours of companionship,
utility, and patient endurance as when he first hailed
her “Your Ladyship!” Her husband was really
deserving of her; independent of his peerage, his
wealth, and his attachment, being to a precision the
most charming young man in the world. Any further
definition of his merits must be unnecessary; the most
charming young man in the world is instantly before
the imagination of us all. Concerning the one
in question, therefore, I have only to add —
aware that the rules of composition forbid the introduction
of a character not connected with my fable —
that this was the very gentleman whose negligent servant
left behind him that collection of washing-bills,
resulting from a long visit at Northanger, by which
my heroine was involved in one of her most alarming
adventures.
The influence of the viscount and
viscountess in their brother’s behalf was assisted
by that right understanding of Mr. Morland’s
circumstances which, as soon as the general would allow
himself to be informed, they were qualified to give.
It taught him that he had been scarcely more misled
by Thorpe’s first boast of the family wealth
than by his subsequent malicious overthrow of it; that
in no sense of the word were they necessitous or poor,
and that Catherine would have three thousand pounds.
This was so material an amendment of his late expectations
that it greatly contributed to smooth the descent
of his pride; and by no means without its effect was
the private intelligence, which he was at some pains
to procure, that the Fullerton estate, being entirely
at the disposal of its present proprietor, was consequently
open to every greedy speculation.
On the strength of this, the general,
soon after Eleanor’s marriage, permitted his
son to return to Northanger, and thence made him the
bearer of his consent, very courteously worded in a
page full of empty professions to Mr. Morland.
The event which it authorized soon followed:
Henry and Catherine were married, the bells rang,
and everybody smiled; and, as this took place within
a twelvemonth from the first day of their meeting,
it will not appear, after all the dreadful delays
occasioned by the general’s cruelty, that they
were essentially hurt by it. To begin perfect
happiness at the respective ages of twenty-six and
eighteen is to do pretty well; and professing myself
moreover convinced that the general’s unjust
interference, so far from being really injurious to
their felicity, was perhaps rather conducive to it,
by improving their knowledge of each other, and adding
strength to their attachment, I leave it to be settled,
by whomsoever it may concern, whether the tendency
of this work be altogether to recommend parental tyranny,
or reward filial disobedience.
Vide a letter from Mr. Richardson,
No. 97, Vol. II, Rambler.