Part 12: An Agitation of Mind

At most any time Henry Tilney felt able to withstand the vicissitudes of life by virtue of his waggish wit, a canny understanding of the world and, he hoped not lastly, good sense and character.

Then there were those few this comfortable ethos crumbled into confusion.

Miss Morland had been very foolish—he hoped not to Eleanor—if she had blundered on about skeletons in the middle of discussing their mother! but of course not, there had been no such thing said to him, only the most hesitant of suspicions voiced, with her full meaning revealed by an honest relief at his denial.

Their entire conversation was far more serious than any yet passed between them. In truth, to call it a conversation was to strain the word's definition, it was more a lecture, practically a sermon! Most ladies, Eleanor included, would have stopped him long before he finished, certainly not listened like she was on a pew and then repented in a fit of tears.

Was it fair, really, to say in one breath "Use your imagination and envision all the horrors to be found here!"—even if in jest—and then in another "Use your reason, be sensible?" Was it right to tease the understanding of women one day and demand a higher wisdom the next?

Did he care for her good opinion so very much, not merely of himself, but his family, his father, their past, their future, that he was distraught at the mere idea of her doubts or unhappiness? Faithful and credulous as ever, she protested not a word, took every sentence as gospel, and now possibly rued the day she ever came into their home. Or their acquaintance. Or his.

It should not matter. It did matter. He should have said more sooner, or spoke less and meant more. He was pacing, not even unpacked, and would need to dress for dinner soon. Goodness, he would have to endure his father and all those expectations while facing her as well, and Eleanor, and it was not as if he was even prepared to face himself at the moment!

Title form Chapter 30 of Northanger Abbey: "Henry, in an agitation of mind which many solitary hours were required to compose...."