the end they were all convinced, and Mr.
Bennet's decisive comment was: "I admire all my three sons-in-law
highly. Wickham, perhaps, is my favourite; but I think I shall like
_your_ husband quite as well as Jane's. If any young men come for Mary
or Kitty, send them in, for I am quite at leisure."

* * * * *

Northanger Abbey

"Northanger Abbey" was written in 1798, revised for the press
in 1803, and sold in the same year for L10 to a Bath
bookseller, who held it in such light esteem that, after
allowing it to remain for many years on his shelves, he was
content to sell it back to the novelist's brother, Henry
Austen, for the exact sum which he had paid for it at the
beginning, not knowing that the writer was already the author
of four popular novels. This story--which is, of course, a
skit on the "terror" novel of Mrs. Radcliffe's school--was not
published till after its author's death, when, in 1818, it was
bound up with her last book, "Persuasion."

_I.--A Heroine in the Making_

No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy could have
supposed her born to be a heroine. Her situation in life, the character
of her father and mother, her own person and disposition, were all
equally against her. Her father was a clergyman, without being neglected
or poor, and a very respectable man, though his name was Richard, and he
had never been handsome. He had a considerable independence, besides two
good livings, and he was not in the least addicted to locking up his
daughters. Her mother was a woman of useful plain sense, with a good
temper, and, what is more remarkable, with a good constitution. She had
three sons before Catherine was born; and, instead of dying in bringing
the latter into the world, as anybody might expect, she still lived
on--lived to have six children more--to see them growing up around her,
and to enjoy excellent health herself. Catherine, for many years of her
life, was as plain as any member of her family. She had a thin, awkward
figure, a sallow skin without colour, dark, lank hair, and strong
features. So much for her person; and not less propitious for heroism
seemed her mind. She was fond of all boys' sports, and greatly preferred
cricket not merely to dolls, but to the more heroic enjoyments of
infancy--nursing a dormouse, feeding a canary-bird, or watering a
rosebush. Indeed, she had no