Chapter 17

The next morning was fair and cool, removing the last hindrance to her fulfilling the appointment made yesterday. Helped by the maid, she made her preparations without delay and went to check on Henry before going down to the breakfast parlour.

He was awake, and looked so delighted to see her that it was difficult to explain they must part as quickly as greet. "For I am attending morning service with your father. I hope you will not want for anything while I am gone."

He could not mask his surprise upon hearing who she meant to leave with, a feeling that only increased when she described her conversation the evening before. "Even so," he began, and was sorely tried to find an argument against anyone of healthy body and willing soul practising their religion, which had previously been the study of his profession to encourage.

"Do not worry: he was not too difficult. I will manage. It is nothing. And I must be prompt."

"Yes, he is a very exacting chaperon. I see you mean to force your idle husband to pray even when he is released from his duties."

"But you would have prayed anyway, as a good Christian. I will come speak to you when I return; I trust you will have a peaceful morning."

She allowed him to wish her the same, then quickly retreated lest her courage falter. Downstairs she ate alone, as rapidly and quietly as possible, so different from how she and Henry normally spent Sunday mornings before driving in his curricle to Woodston's church.

Upon finishing she made her way to the hall, waiting with nervous fidgets, unwilling to risk tardiness by straying from the spot, and so remained at her post a full half hour before the gentleman was seen. He looked her over in silence, then nodded and offered his arm. They were soon in the carriage, and upon their arrival Catherine was immediately escorted in by the general, who held her in so firm a grip she felt nearly dragged into the building.

Sitting in the family pew recalled her to all the sensations and morbid fantasies that had assailed her when originally come to this place over a year ago. At first she was resolved not to look at the memorial to Henry's mother, sure that seeing it again would overpower her with shame. Between the call to prayer and the readings, though, she felt comforted enough to turn in that direction. Contrary to her fears, she did not feel pangs upon seeing it in full; its eyes did not appear to accuse her from their marble placement, nor did she flush scarlet or cry aloud in confession. Catherine, now a rector's wife, and one previously exposed to the vagaries of parish arrangements in her father's home, could appreciate the fine epithets and graceful statuary for what they were. Though it could not be a very joyful thing to see every Sunday; she herself was glad Woodston had no such carvings to haunt its inhabitants. She was sure it had brought no comfort to the lady's children. But then, she decided, it had not been purchased for their sakes. Glancing at the general beside her, she could not discern that he observed it at all, and yet he must have been the author of its design. Catherine puzzled through the homily and the creeds, and as she rose, coming once more into view of the cross beyond their box, thought that generals and soldiers must have a very different view of things than ladies and country parsons, even those who were related to each other.

"For I have never truly seen death; that must make a difference." And she received the benediction with the relief of a Bartimaeus freed from blindness, for now all the oddness she had observed and been so terrified of must arrive at some explanation. It did not fully excuse General Tilney's actions; she did not go so far as to consider want of feeling or threatened cruelty tolerable. But it was rational. It could be understood. It might inform not only her own dealings with these quicksilver relations, but also her husband's lot as a son and brother. Considering how close she had come to gaining their experience with that enemy of the resurrection, she was full of gratitude at her deliverance, and it is probable there was no more heartfelt amen than her own.

As they left the church there were several men who vied for General Tilney's attention. Catherine did not mind being ignored as he commenced into loud conversation, or indeed being forgotten altogether. Rather, the reverse held true: in a removal from his presence, by walking about the grounds to more fully admire their beauty, she was able to retain all the joy and relief the service had afforded her. It affirmed her every notion of what parish life ought to render the obedient. "How glad I am become! How good it is to do what is right!" were her happy thoughts.

Her beaming countenance had not gone unobserved; private as her meditations had been, the evidence of her contentment was so marked the vicar could not help noticing, and he approached as she waited by the carriage. "I believe you are Mrs. Tilney, Henry's new wife?" were his first words, and the lady very prettily accepted Dr. Prewitt's own introduction. "I was glad to hear neither he nor any of the house were seriously harmed by recent events. Is he at his own pulpit today?"

"Oh, no, he is not well enough to travel, his curate is serving. We will probably be in this countryside another week."

This information did not quite concur with the more favourable reports he had received from other quarters, and though not inclined to ever question the judgment of his patron, he could not disbelieve so open and earnest a statement from so excellent a source. For though simply dressed and without fashion, Catherine's youth and manner presented her very fine to all who saw her that day. There had been some talk when she was identified, as rumours were thick regarding the young thing the general's second son was run away with, and one met at Bath besides. But Catherine's inner workings gave her an air of piety, and her smiling countenance was enough to charm most who knew her by reputation only. Certainly the vicar was not immune, as he had seldom beheld any young person so fascinated by the Gospel lesson (including the absent Mr. Tilney).

"He must be comforted by your steady presence," was his politic reply. "as would any man with such an observant wife."

These words might ordinarily have caused Catherine some confusion, for in honesty she was not always so very intent on the forms of the faith. Fortunately she interpreted them quite narrowly to refer to the present circumstances, and was pleased to think she had done Henry credit in his home. "I am always glad when I may serve my husband," was her truthful answer, which for the ageing doctor of divinity confirmed all his morning's observations. The strange tales surrounding Mrs. Tilney were proved in error; this Christian example of principal was exactly the sort of woman any family, let alone one of the general's standing, might wish to claim.

Catherine was ignorant of how good an impression she had made, having no greater ambition than to share her current state of delight. She thanked Dr. Prewitt for his compliments, and had the satisfaction of hearing him say he would pray for Henry before he went on to address other members of his flock. With two clerics offering petitions, she could not imagine Providence would be long in answering. It was with no little concern that she watched the general and the vicar spoke privately; for the former did not look entirely happy with whatever Dr. Prewitt had to say. Catherine hoped she had not given insult in speaking out of turn, without permission or the presence of her father-in-law. As the clergyman had approached her, she could not feel guilty, but her newfound respect for the strangeness of a military man's way of thinking caused her to wonder if perhaps he was used to people always behaving as if they were in a regiment of some kind; and if so, any straying from a high concept of command might vex him.

Whether good or bad, General Tilney's feelings did not seem to injure his incumbent's, based on observing that man's still placid countenance when they parted. After allowing herself to be helped into the equipage, Catherine had the space of a moment to admire the church again from the window as the general climbed in, and then they were on their way back to Northanger Abbey.

This journey was much smoother for Catherine's nerves than the one preceding it. She no longer worried the general was particularly displeased with her; it seemed he was merely not peaceable. She recognized her early experience with the kind natures of her father and Mr. Allen had little prepared her for a more bellicose temperament. But it would be wrong to judge all men by the example of her youth. Just as there were congregants at Woodston who tried the patience of her husband and yet were also faithfully devoted to the parish, so she could see the general must serve a similar if grander role in his own domain.

These ideas allowed her to retain her serenity throughout the ride back, and even to brave another shared meal without regret. The cold meats were not uninviting, for Catherine found her more natural good humour inspired a corresponding increase in her appetite, and so busy was she in consuming that set before her that she spared little thought for the silence maintained by the other party.

At the conclusion of this meal Catherine was spared any further attendance by the general's departing for his customary walk. He did not speak as he left, only gave the curtest of nods as a dismissal, and she decided the best method of giving way to him was imitation, offering her own bow in return.

She did not resent his refusal of an invitation, even if her inclination was to employ this newfound energy to range beyond the house. He perhaps could not be warm with her, and she would not ask he be so; it was enough that he was civil. She could therefore entertain the possibility of facing many similar encounters, with the sanguine hope that by the time Henry was able to join them he would be rewarded not only with better health but a peaceful family, exactly as he deserved.

With every pleasant hope for the future urging her forward, Catherine mounted the stairs with a confidence nearly unthinkable the day before. The week no longer appeared vast and empty, but full of promise.

11/01/2021: Edited to change "the strange talk" to "the strange tales."