Catherine's spirits, depressed as they were at the prospect of an indefinite separation from Henry just when she'd learned he returned her love, were nonetheless buoyed by reminiscences of him and by her dreams of future joy: consequently, a nature such as hers could not remain utterly suppressed. This postponement of her happiness must be brief, she grew more certain. The one piece of her understanding with Henry on which she could not look with satisfaction was this: lacking the explicit consent of their parents, and with no fixed wedding plans, Catherine felt she could scarcely consider herself formally engaged. On her parents' advice, she said nothing of her engagement, and, though Mr. Tilney's visit was known, and her brothers and sisters teased her to speak of him, the secret seemed safe for the time. To James, however, she must write, revealing all.
The arrival of Mr. Allen's godson occasioned an invitation to dinner at the Allens' and Catherine was sufficiently recovered in spirits to attend. Also in attendance would be Miss Penelope Doyle and her older sister. Catherine and Penny were the same age, and were therefore, commonly expected to be friends, though Catherine was spared much intercourse with the other ladies, because Mr. Doyle's estate lay some miles beyond Fullerton.
With James still at Oxford and none of her younger sisters out, only Catherine accompanied her parents to the Allens'. "I do wonder," Mrs. Morland said to her husband on the brief walk to the Allens' house, "at Mr. Doyle bringing Anne and Penny to this first meeting, knowing what we do of the young man's reputation."
"I'm sure there can be no concern, in good company," answered her husband. "In such a small neighborhood, to withhold their daughters would be remarked. Are we not bringing our own daughter, thereby risking that she might fall in love with Mr. Gordon on first sight, as young women in novels are wont to do?" Mr. Morland winked at Catherine over his shoulder. (He walked in the narrow path with his wife on his arm and their daughter behind.) Catherine coloured, not knowing how to answer. "I am not concerned for Catherine," replied her mother. "Her heart is given elsewhere, and I pray she is not so inconstant as to transfer her affections at a single dinner party."
"No indeed!" cried Catherine, moved to speech. "I'm sure I am safe to be at the same table as Mr. Gordon; and as for ladies falling in love precipitously — Father, you never read novels, so how can it be that you are familiar with their faults?"
"Quite so," replied Mr. Morland. "I know such things only by report. Which is all we know of Mr. Gordon, so perhaps we had best let the young man speak for himself."
In the Allens' drawing room, the Morlands greeted their hosts and met the redoubtable Mr. Gordon. He was younger than Catherine had imagined, but had a very pleasing person. His manners, while affable enough, were more reserved than she had expected from such an infamous rake. After the introductions were made, as soon as might be polite, Penny took Catherine by the arm and drew her aside, to where her sister stood. "Catherine, how long it has been since we were together," cried her friend. "You must tell us all about Bath. What are the rooms like? Were there many beaux? How are the fashions?" All the while she delivered her inquiries, Penny turned her gaze toward Mr. Gordon. Miss Doyle, who had been part of the season in Town, stood aloof from Catherine's discourse -- who had merely been at Bath -- and gazed unreservedly at Mr. Gordon. Catherine did her best to satisfy her friend's curiosity about her adventures in Bath, careful to mention the family of Tilney as casually as possible; alas her attempt at casualness did not avail her. "Tilney! Was it not a Mr. Tilney who visited you upon your return? He is in love with you, I suppose. It is all well for those who may go to Town or to Bath. How easy it must be there to have rich men fall in love with you."
How much Catherine then regretted how quickly young ladies' ideas leapt to love. She was not at liberty to confess her engagement, and she knew not how to answer. Knowing she must be colouring and appearing confused, she forced herself to quickly answer, "He came to assure himself of my safety, for I had to return alone, by post. I will tell you all when we have some leisure, but now I should love to hear about London from Anne." Miss Doyle's interest having been caught by Catherine's final statement, and her vanity engaged by Catherine's appeal, she condescended to notice the younger girls. "Town is town, you know," she said with hauteur. "I infinitely prefer the quiet country. So many people and horses, and such dirt! I cannot see how anyone can bear to live in Town. I am to return to wait upon my aunt next month, and I am sure I shall die of boredom." Catherine stood amazed at this speech, but Miss Doyle turned away at a summons from her father, and Catherine turned to Penny. "La!" said Penny. "Pay her no mind. I can tell you what she has related of fashions, and as for the other . . ." Penny lowered her voice. "Anne was not well-received in Town. The other ladies were more accomplished and elegant. She was quite scorned, I think." Far from showing any concern for her sister's feelings, Penny appeared triumphant. "How shocking," Catherine said, remembering with force the ways in which Penny's company was trying for her. For a moment she wished for Isabella Thorpe, despite all her faults, for at least she had been an enthusiastic reader of novels. Penny Doyle had a peevish, vicious mind, only barely disguised by good breeding and tolerated because of her high birth. "I should not say so," Penny replied. "I say it is time Anne was set down from her high opinion of herself. But look, I must join my father. We are not to be far from his side tonight, and under no circumstances are we to have any private conversation with Mr. Gordon. Is it not exciting? He may try to make love to one of us. Perhaps to all of us!" Catherine watched her friend remove from her and reflected that there were few ways in which Mr. Doyle could have made Mr. Gordon more attractive to his daughters than to forbid them to speak to him.
Though she could not stand alone in the drawing room for long, and must join her mother where she sat in conversation with Mrs. Allen, she had a moment to regard Mr. Gordon herself. He stood talking with Mr. Allen while he leaned against the chimney-piece. His ease in the position spoke of a certain strength and grace that made her suspect him of dancing well. He wore a blue coat, which Bath had taught her was the height of the day's fashion for men. As she studied him, he looked across the room and met her gaze with a regard so warm she caught her breath and turned away, hurrying to sit beside her mother. "How long will his visit be?" her mother was asking. They were speaking, of course, of Mr. Gordon.
"Until Michaelmas, at least," said Mrs. Allen. "Then he may be examined and, Mr. Allen and I hope, admitted into practice with a respectable barrister. His studies may be adversely affected, we fear, from his being here. He needs books, you see, and they are all in Oxford. Mr. Allen's library has a few law books of his late brother's, and Walter brought what he could. Oh, I must tell you, he wrapped his books in the linen I charged him to procure. I am sorry to say that, like most men, he has no eye for fabric." This criticism brought to Catherine's mind how astute was Henry Tilney on the subject of cloth, and her thoughts drifted to Bath, and the evening she met him. His first words to Mrs. Allen were on the subject of cloth. The memory gave Catherine a hint of the suffering she might endure by overmuch dwelling on her absent love, where her previous reminiscences had brought her joy. She felt now the pain of his loss and battled an unformed fear for their future together. She did not hear the ladies' discussion of the poor quality of the linen brought by Mr. Gordon. She returned her attention to their words, however, when her mother asked, "Why, then, has he come, if not for a short visit? Would he not be better studying in Oxford?" Mrs. Allen turned the rings on her hand before speaking. "It was best that he quit Oxford, and, to own the truth, he has nowhere else to go. I've told you that his uncle will not see him. Ah, it is all too bad. His father was such a dear friend to George. If his parents had only lived, the boy could have been raised with proper attention. I fear he was always the poor relation next to his cousins. Still," Mrs. Allen put on a determined smile, and smoothed her frock, "it may be all for the best. It will be many years before his profession allows him a good kind of living, much less the means to repay his godfather, but I am so glad to see him on a respectable path. Here's Betsy; it is time to go in."
Catherine had already realized that the unanticipated absence of the Davis family on account of an illness had created an uneven number of men and ladies in the party. Mr. Doyle insisted on going in with a daughter on each arm, so Catherine remained the only lady who could partner Mr. Gordon, unless one of the married women chose the office. She followed her parents' lead: if her mother took Mr. Gordon's arm, it would be proper for Catherine to go in with her father, but it was Mrs. Allen who bustled to the fireplace and took her godson's arm, announcing to the group assembled there that it was time to go in to dinner. Catherine was escorted by Mr. Allen, to everyone's satisfaction. The dinner was in honor of Mr. Gordon's coming, so he was placed with the Allens, near the head. Catherine, coming in on her host's arm, was seated as his opposite. !-- /* Style Definitions */ , , {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} a:link, {color:blue; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} a:visited, {color:purple; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} p {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} 12 {mso-style-name:textni12;} page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} 1 {page:Section1;} --She was thus best situated to observe the newcomer to their neighbourhood.