24 Northanger Abbey - Read By Stephanie Poppins

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Chapter 21 A moment's glance was enough to satisfy Katherine that her apartment was very unlike the one which Henry had endeavoured to alarm her by the description of.

It was by no means unreasonably large and contained neither tapestry nor velvet.

The walls were papered,

The floor was carpeted,

The windows were neither less perfect nor more dim than those of the drawing room below.

The furniture,

Though not of the latest fashion,

Was handsome and comfortable and the air of the room altogether far from uncheerful.

Her heart instantaneously at ease on this point,

She resolved to lose no time in particular examination of anything as she greatly dreaded disobliging the General by any delay.

Her habit,

Therefore,

Was thrown off with all possible haste and she was preparing to unpin the linen package which the chaise seat had conveyed for her immediate accommodation when her eyes suddenly fell on a large high chest standing back in a deep recess on one side of the fireplace.

The sight of it made her start and forgetting everything else she stood gazing on it in motionless wonder while these thoughts crossed her mind.

This is strange indeed.

I did not expect such a sight as this,

An immense heavy chest,

What can it hold?

Why should it be placed here,

Pushed back to as if meant to be out of sight?

I will look into it,

Cost me what it may I would look into it,

And directly to by daylight.

If I stay till evening my candle may go out.

She advanced and examined it closely.

It was of cedar wood,

Curiously inlaid with some darker wood and raised about a foot from the ground on a carved stand of the same.

The lock was silver though tarnished from age.

At each end were the imperfect remains of handles also of silver,

Broken perhaps prematurely by some strange violence.

And on the centre of the lid was a mysterious cipher in the same metal.

Catherine bent over it intently but without being able to distinguish anything with certainty.

She could not in whatever direction she took it believe the last letter to be a T and yet that it should be anything else in the house was a circumstance to raise no common degree of astonishment,

If not originally theirs,

By what strange events could it have fallen into the Tilney family?

Her fearful curiosity was at every moment growing greater and seizing with trembling hands the hasp of the lock.

She resolved at all hazards to satisfy herself at least to its contents.

With difficulty,

For something seemed to resist her efforts,

She raised the lid a few inches,

But at that moment a sudden knocking at the door of the room made her,

Starting,

Quit her hold and the lid closed with alarming violence.

This ill-timed intruder was Miss Tilney's maid,

Sent by her mistress to be of use to Miss Morland and though Catherine immediately dismissed her,

It recalled her to the sense of what she ought to be doing and forced her,

In spite of her anxious desire to penetrate this mystery,

To proceed in her dressing without further delay.

Her progress was not quick,

For her thoughts and her eyes were still bent on that object and though she dare not waste a moment upon a second attempt,

She could not remain many paces from the chest.

At length,

However,

Having slipped one arm into her gown,

The twilight seemed so nearly finished that the impatience of her curiosity might safely be indulged.

One moment surely might be spared,

And so desperate should the exertion of her strength that,

Unless secured by supernatural means,

The lid in one moment should be thrown back.

With this spirit she sprang forward and her confidence did not deceive her.

Her resolute effort threw back the lid and gave to her astonished eyes the view of a white cotton counterpane,

Properly folded,

Reposing at one end of the chest in undisputed possession.

She was gazing on it with a first blush of surprise when Miss Tilney,

Anxious for her friends being ready,

Entered the room,

And to the rising shame of having harboured for some minutes an absurd expectation,

Was then added the shame of being caught in so idle a search.

That is a curious chest,

Is it not?

Said Miss Tilney,

As Catherine hastily closed it.

It's impossible to say how many generations it's been here.

How it came to be first put in this room I know not,

But I've not had it moved because I thought it might be something of use in holding hats and bonnets.

The worst of it is the weight makes it difficult to open.

In that corner,

However,

It's the least out of the way.

Catherine had no leisure for speech,

Being at once blushing,

Tying her gown and forming wise resolutions with a most violent dispatch.

Miss Tilney gently hinted for her fear of being late,

And in half a minute they ran downstairs together in an alarm not wholly unfounded,

For General Tilney was pacing the drawing room,

His watch in his hand,

And having on the very instance of their entering pulled the bell with violence,

Ordered dinner to be on the table directly.

Catherine trembled at the emphasis with which he spoke,

And sat pale and breathless in a most humble mood,

Concerned for his children and detesting all chests.

And the General,

Recovering his politeness as he looked at her,

Spent the rest of his time in scolding his daughter,

For so foolishly hurrying her fair friend,

Who was absolutely out of breath from haste,

When there was not the least occasion for hurry in the world.

But Catherine could not at all get over the double distress of having involved her friend in a lecture,

And being a great simpleton herself,

Till they were happily seated at the dinner table,

When the General's complacent smiles and a good appetite of her own restored her to peace.

The dining parlour was a noble room,

Suitable in its dimensions to a much larger drawing room than the one in common use,

And fitted up in a style of luxury and expense which was almost lost on the unpractised eye of Catherine,

Who saw little more than its spaciousness and the number of their attendants.

Of the former she spoke loud her admiration,

And the General with a very gracious countenance acknowledged it was by no means an ill-sized room,

And further confessed that though as careless on such subjects as most people,

He did look upon a tolerably large eating room as one of the necessities of life.

He supposed,

However,

She must have been used to better size the parts at Mr.

Allen's.

No,

Indeed,

Was Catherine's honest assurance,

Mr.

Allen's dining parlour was not more than half as large,

And she had never seen so large a room as this in her life.

The General's good humour increased,

Why,

As he had such rooms,

He thought it would be simple not to make use of them,

He said,

But upon his honour he believed there might be more comfort in rooms of only half their size.

Mr.

Allen's house,

He was sure,

Must be exactly of the true size for rational happiness.

The evening passed without any further disturbance,

And in the occasional absence of General Tilney,

With much positive cheerfulness.

It was only in his presence Catherine felt the smallest fatigue from her journey,

And even then,

Even in moments of languor or restraint,

A sense of General happiness preponderated,

And she could think of her friends in Bath without one wish of being with them.

The night was stormy,

The wind had been rising at intervals the whole afternoon,

And by the time the party broke up it blew and rained violently.

Catherine,

As she crossed the hall,

Listened to the tempest with sensations of awe,

And when she heard it rage round a corner of the ancient building,

And close with sudden fury a distant door,

She felt for the first time she was really in an abbey.

Yes,

These were characteristic sounds,

They brought to her recollection the countless variety of dreadful situations and horrid scenes which such buildings had witnessed,

And such storms ushered in.

And most heartily did she rejoice in the happier circumstances attending her entrance within walls so solemn.

She had nothing to dread from midnight assassins or drunken gallants.

Henry had certainly only been in jest in what he had told her this morning.

In a house so furnished and so guarded,

She could have nothing to explore or to suffer,

And she might go to her bedroom as securely as if it had been her own chamber at Fullerton.

Thus wisely fortifying her mind as she proceeded up the stairs,

She was enabled,

Especially on perceiving that Miss Tilney slept only two doors down,

To enter her room with a tolerably stout heart,

And her spirits were immediately assisted by the cheerful blaze of a wood fire.

How much better this is,

She said as she walked to the fender,

How much better to find a fire ready lit than to have to wait shivering in the cold till the family are in bed,

As so many poor girls have been obliged to do,

And then to have a faithful old servant frightening one by coming in with a faggot.

How glad I am that Northanger is what it is.

If it had been like some other places,

I do not know that in such a night like this,

I could have answered for my courage.

But now to be sure there is nothing to alarm one.