y
there are moments when we could all wish him disengaged from every tie
of business. But though I may not exactly make converts of you young
ladies, I am sure your father, Miss Morland, would agree with me in
thinking it expedient to give every young man some employment. The
money is nothing, it is not an object, but employment is the thing.
Even Frederick, my eldest son, you see, who will perhaps inherit as
considerable a landed property as any private man in the county, has his
profession."

The imposing effect of this last argument was equal to his wishes. The
silence of the lady proved it to be unanswerable.

Something had been said the evening before of her being shown over the
house, and he now offered himself as her conductor; and though Catherine
had hoped to explore it accompanied only by his daughter, it was a
proposal of too much happiness in itself, under any circumstances, not
to be gladly accepted; for she had been already eighteen hours in the
abbey, and had seen only a few of its rooms. The netting-box, just
leisurely drawn forth, was closed with joyful haste, and she was ready
to attend him in a moment. "And when they had gone over the house, he
promised himself moreover the pleasure of accompanying her into the
shrubberies and garden." She curtsied her acquiescence. "But perhaps
it might be more agreeable to her to make those her first object.
The weather was at present favourable, and at this time of year the
uncertainty was very great of its continuing so. Which would she prefer?
He was equally at her service. Which did his daughter think would most
accord with her fair friend's wishes? But he thought he could discern.
Yes, he certainly read in Miss Morland's eyes a judicious desire of
making use of the present smiling weather. But when did she judge amiss?
The abbey would be always safe and dry. He yielded implicitly, and
would fetch his hat and attend them in a moment." He left the room,
and Catherine, with a disappointed, anxious face, began to speak of her
unwillingness that he should be taking them out of doors against his own
inclination, under a mistaken idea of pleasing her; but she was stopped
by Miss Tilney's saying, with a little confusion, "I believe it will be
wisest to take the morning while it is so fine; and do not be uneasy on
my father's account; he always walks out at this time of day."

Catherine did not exactly know how this was to be understood. Why
was Miss Tilney embarrass