Maid (Thumbelina)
Mr. Thorpe and Dr. Andrews had known each other but sparingly before the death of one, and the long illness of the other's wife, separated their families. A chance encounter at the start of the year allowed their daughters to mend this breach, which the physician encouraged. "You have been hidden away too long, my dear. Go and enjoy yourself."
At first it was exciting to leave off the sickroom for society, tutored by an expert on the subject. There was even the flattery of a young man asking for a dance immediately after being introduced. But this event proved what Miss Andrews already suspected: Miss Thorpe was not delighted for her protégé to outshine her. And when they went down the set, it was quite obvious he was more enamoured by the maiden who both coyly rebuffed and yet continually sought his attention.
As the season progressed Miss Andrews could only pity the callow Mr. Morland, more pursued than pursuer. With no regrets of her own she listened to his compliments for her fair friend, and offered what support she could for his sinking rationality.
"I hope they may be happy," she said of an evening by her mother's bedside, no longer as welcome in Thorpe circle as before Mr. Morland had entered it. For her own part, she was glad enough to return to the simpler but no less welcome attractions of home.
Sapphire Amity (Toads and Diamonds)
The pump room was quite busy that day, and unlike her first days in Bath Catherine Morland was surrounded by friends: here was James, and Isabella, and all the other Thorpes, notwithstanding faithful Mrs. Allen.
"Oh! it is Miss Tilney, I must go speak to her," she said upon spying this newer acquaintance, and went at once to greet that lady and her companion.
She was not aware of how her unpolished enthusiasm might be apprehended, or that it was any special kindness to assist Mrs. Hughes to a glass. Her only desire was to please: and that, to a heart so thirsty, she could not help doing.
Becomingly Important (Puss in Boots)
The road to Northanger Abbey was so familiar that Henry Tilney usually passed it unnoticed. His companion was not so cavalier. He might have suspected anyone else of calculating its—and his—worth, but Miss Catherine Morland's innocent enthusiasm forbade cynicism. "How grand it all is! No wonder your father is eager to return home."
He was provoked to smile despite his misgivings over the person proceeding them. "What a kind interpretation of his manners. And how unkind of the weather, to turn ill when you have been so complimentary."
"Only some wind, and I have my muff," she answered in distraction, still turning about to see everything. "And your greatcoat is so handsome, I do not suppose either of us in danger of cold."
She bore as little trace of cunning while praising his person as the grounds, words which echoed in his ear long after they parted to dress for dinner.
Reveal (Sleeping Beauty)
Catherine had watched carefully, and as soon as she found herself alone, crept with sure purpose to the abbey's forbidden chamber. There might be any number of horrors hidden within. Her heart beat wildly as she flung the folding doors open at last.
But there was nothing to see! It was all so normal, so domestic: there was no sign of the Gothic anywhere inside the prettily furnished room. Her apprehension of the unknown gave way to a dread of discovery, and she retreated at once.
Scarcely had she made her escape than another door burst open, an encounter that fulfilled her worst fears and pricked her to the heart. All her romantic notions collapsed as she fled to her room and lay upon her bed in agony.
Greed (Snow White)
GENERAL TILNEY TO THE MOST HONOURABLE THE MARQUIS OF LONGTOWN
Northanger Abbey.
You will observe by my address that we are no longer in Bath. I congratulate you on escaping the trip yourself: it is a place of tedium, and only distinguished from Sodom by claiming perhaps seven men of repute rather than one (I need hardly mention your Worthy Person would have evened the number handsomely). Only two saving graces made our sojourn at all satisfying. In the first place, my benevolence so early in the year forbids any further expectation of indulgence for the remainder of it.
The other is a most advantageous connection come to enliven our family party. Miss Morland is the particular Friend of Mr. Allen, a wealthy gentleman of Wiltshire who—having no children—must bestow his largesse on his god-daughter. This young Lady is quite attached to Miss Tilney and, I will be bold enough to say, not displeased with the attentions of my son Henry. I trust my judicious Hints in that direction may yield a proper reward; your Lordship will agree that strategy and determined industry are called for where future interest is at stake.
In that vein, I am all eagerness to hear how your recent Indian speculation carried out. There is a great deal of sordid talk about gold and gems to be found in that country, but I would not deign to repeat idle gossip to one who must have better intelligence than the pitiful society of Bath may aspire to obtain.
I remain, &c., &c,
GENERAL F. TILNEY
Nuts, Fruit, and Gum (Hansel and Gretel)
It was astonishing how nurturing an atmosphere Northanger Abbey took on when looked at from a fresh perspective. Every day Miss Morland delighted in some new discovery, prompting equal elation with her young hosts.
"Oh Mr. Tilney, wherever did you get these!" was her happy cry when Henry brought in new cherries. Eleanor ordered a marzipan made from these and last summer's almonds, which they feasted on like kings while playing at charades.
How delicious good company was proving to be.
Discard (Rumpelstiltskin)
On finally ending his engagement, James Morland was as despondent as any lover could be. The entire world was without sympathy for him, even the weather: his trip back to Oxford encompassed only clear, sunny skies.
Indeed Morland was unprepared for Thorpe to visit him so soon after his arrival, and was pained to tell that cheerful soul his celebratory spirits were in vain: there was nothing to toast.
"The deuce!" his friend exclaimed, "but, hey-day, what about your sister?"
It was unfortunate, Morland later realized, that he only remembered Catherine at this moment due to this insincere inquiry. But he at least had the consolation that his letter, though delayed by a day's selfish regret, was nevertheless started in earnest the moment it entered his head.
Lost (Frog Prince)
Bath was a positive bog with no one to admire or listen to Isabella Thorpe. She was glad they were not to attend that night's assembly, beyond eager to leave the wretched place behind.
She determined to fill the time with a letter. Catherine was so easily imposed on, it would be child's play to recruit her in regaining Morland's affections.
She nearly crossed out a line on reading it again, for fear it revealed too much: "Since you went away, I have had no pleasure—the dust is beyond anything; and everybody one cares for is gone."
Charity Is Not Puffed Up (Six Swans)
It was girlish to think of her home as a castle, and herself trapped within; Eleanor Tilney had long ago outgrown nursery tales. But the feeling returned when she was forced to part with the friend she had dared in her heart to call sister.
"Blessed are the poor in spirit," quoth the vicar that morning, while she suffered next to the beatitude's living opposite. The next day's confrontation between father and son confirmed that General Tilney only valued those he could profit by on earth rather than heaven; Henry was sent away in disgrace for refusing to abandon Catherine.
Eleanor fled to her mother's favourite grove, and sought its peace over and over in the weeks to come. In a story the woods might offer an enchanted means of finding the family she missed so much.
In reality, as was so often Eleanor's lot, she was forced to seek solace in memory.
Wednesday’s Child is Full of Woe (Little Red Riding Hood)
Catherine was back home but sad. James was not home, and everyone said he was sad. Now Harriet was not happy either. She had only wanted to get some wild things to make her sister cheerful again, and never intended to stray into Mrs. Allen's garden. Going away must have made her cross too.
"It is because of the general, and how cruel he was to Catherine, that everyone is bothered," Sally explained later.
Harriet was unsure how a bad soldier from her father's newspaper had escaped to eat up their peace, nor why she must be chastised for the terrible things someone else did. She hoped the savage man would stop whatever he was doing soon, or that a fairy would at least punish him too.
Love with Roses is Proved True (Rapunzel)
There were many spectacular ways a novel might draw to close, and in the thorny months spent waiting for her wedding Catherine Morland considered them all. She was not alone in this endeavour, for Henry Tilney was as happy to speculate on the perfect ending of a story, especially to one who did him the courtesy of actually reading every word he wrote and responding point for point to every line.
The scene of their eventual reunion was utterly unremarkable: no frights or screams, only a few tears of joy on the lady's side and a wide smile from the gentleman, all under the approving eyes of her parents. It remained for a brief tête-à-tête in the frosty air outside to paint their cheeks a more fitting colour.
A miracle unfolded all the same, more verdant than the blossoms nurtured in Mrs. Allen's hot-house; for their feelings had flowered and matured in opposition to the season. As Henry explained later, "Any previous suppositions of their present happiness had been mere weeds in comparison." Each delighted in their mutual cheerful society rather than be forced, by pages of prose, to imagine it.
