Courtesy and Contempt

Chapter 15

Chapter 15In addition to what has already been said about Catherine Fenmore's personal and mental talents, it can be said that when she is about to plunge into all the difficulties and dangers of a six-week stay in Bath, she should not give an idea of what her character is supposed to be, that her heart was loving; her cheerful and open nature, without vanity or affectation of any kind – her manners were just moving away from the awkwardness and shyness of a girl; her person pleasing and, if she looks good, pretty – and her mind something like this ?? ignorant and uninformed, as the female mind is ordinary at seventeen.

Of course, as the hour of departure approaches, Mrs. Fenmore's maternal anxiety will be considered the heaviest. A thousand frightening evil premonitions for her beloved Catherine of this terrible separation must weigh on her heart with sadness and drown her in tears for the last day or two of their togetherness; and advice of the most important and applicable nature must, of course, flow from their wise lips at their farewell conference in their closet. Warnings about the violence of such nobles and baronets, such as the joy of forcing young ladies into a remote farmhouse, must ease the fullness of their hearts at such a moment. Who wouldn't think so? But Mrs. Fenmore knew so little about lords and baronets that she had no idea of her general malice, and was completely unsuspicious of the danger to her daughter posed by her machinations. Their warnings were limited to the following points. "I beg, Catherine, you will always wrap yourself very warm around your neck when you come out of the rooms at night; and I wish you would try to keep a record of the money you spend; I'm giving you this little book on purpose."

Sally, or rather Sarah (because what young lady of ordinary nobility will reach the age of sixteen without changing her name as much as possible?), must be her sister's intimate friend and confidant at this point. It is noteworthy, however, that she did not insist that Catherine write at every post, nor demanded her promise to convey the character of each new acquaintance, nor a detail of any interesting conversation bath could produce. Everything that concerned this important journey was undertaken by the Fenmores with a degree of moderation and serenity that was more in line with the shared feelings of living together than with the subtle sensitivity, the delicate emotions that the first separation evoked for a heroine from her family should always inspire. Her father,

under these hopeless omens, the farewell took place and the journey began. It was carried out with reasonable calm and uneventful security. Neither robbers nor storms befriended them, nor a happy overthrow to introduce them to the hero. Nothing more worrying came than a fear on the part of Mrs. Everyone to have left their wooden shoes in an inn, and fortunately that turned out to be unfounded.

They arrived in Bath. Catherine was delighted – her eyes were here, there, everywhere as they approached the beautiful and impressive surroundings and then drove through the streets that led them to the hotel. She had come to be happy, and she already felt happy.

They were soon accommodated in comfortable accommodation on Pulteney Street.

It is now expedient, Mrs. To describe something to everyone so that the reader can judge how their actions will later tend to promote the general need of work, and how it is likely to help alleviate poor Catherine to all the desperate misery that one last volume is capable of – be it through her unwiseness, vulgarity or jealousy – whether by intercepting her letters, the destruction of their character or the expulsion of their doors.

Mrs. Allen belonged to this numerous class of women whose society can evoke no emotion other than surprise that there are men in the world who might like them well enough to marry them. She had neither beauty nor genius, performance or manners. The aura of a noble woman, a lot of calm, idle good mood and an insignificant attitude were all that could explain that she was the choice of a reasonable, intelligent man like Mr. Allen. In one respect, she was admirably suited to introduce a young lady to the public, as she loved to go everywhere and see everything for herself, as it could be a young lady. Dressing was her passion. She had a harmless pleasure in doing well; and the entry of our heroine into life could only take place after three or four days had been spent learning what was worn the most, and her companions were provided with a dress of the latest fashion. Katharina also made some purchases herself, and when all these matters were settled, the important evening came, which was to lead her to the Obergemächer. Her hair was cut and styled by the best hand, her clothes were carefully dressed, and both Mrs. Allen and her maid said she looked the way she should. With this encouragement, Catherine at least hoped to walk through the crowd uncensored. As for admiration, she was always very welcome, but she did not rely on it. Allen and her maid said she looked the way she should. With this encouragement, Catherine at least hoped to walk through the crowd uncensored. As for admiration, she was always very welcome, but she did not rely on it. Allen and her maid said she looked the way she should. With this encouragement, Catherine at least hoped to walk through the crowd uncensored. As for admiration, she was always very welcome, but she did not rely on it.

Mrs. Allen was busy getting dressed for so long that they entered the ballroom late. The season was full, the room crowded, and the two ladies squeezed in as best they could. What Mr. With all of them, he went straight to the card room and left them alone to enjoy a mob. With more concern for the safety of her new dress than for the comfort of her protégé, Mrs. All their way through the crowd of men at the door, as fast as the necessary caution allowed; However, Catherine remained close to her side, tying her arm too tightly to that of her friend to be torn apart by a joint effort of a fighting gathering. But to her greatest astonishment, she realized that it was by no means the way to walk through the room to detach herself from the crowd; it seemed to increase more as they moved on, whereas she had imagined that once they were quite inside the door, they would easily find seats and be able to watch the dances with complete comfort. But this was far from the case, and although they even reached the top of the room through tireless zeal, their situation was exactly the same; they saw nothing of the dancers but the high feathers of some ladies. Nevertheless, they moved on – something better was still in sight; and through a continued effort of strength and ingenuity, they finally found themselves in the aisle behind the highest bench. There was a little less crowding here than below; and therefore Miss Fenmore had a comprehensive overview of the whole society under her and of all the dangers of her late passage through her. It was a magnificent sight, and she began to feel like she was at a ball for the first time that evening: she longed to dance, but she had no acquaintance in the room. Mrs. Allen did everything she could do in such a case, saying very calmly every now and then, "I wish you could dance, my dear – I wish you could find a partner." Her young friend felt obliged to her for some time for these wishes; but they were repeated so many times and proved so completely ineffective that Catherine eventually got tired and would no longer thank her.

However, they could not enjoy the calm of the hard-won meaning for long. Everyone made their way briefly for tea, and they had to squeeze out like the others. Catherine began to feel some disappointment – she was tired of being constantly harassed by people whose general faces had nothing interesting and with whom she was so completely unknown that she could not alleviate the annoyance of imprisonment and exchange a syllable with one of her fellow prisoners; and when she finally arrived at the tea room, she felt even more the clumsiness of not having a party to join, no acquaintance to claim, no gentleman to help them. They saw nothing of Mr. Allen; and after looking in vain for a more suitable location, they had to sit down at the end of a table,

as soon as they had taken a seat, Mrs. To all to have saved their dress from injury. "It would have been very shocking if it had been torn apart," she said, "wouldn't it? It's such a delicate muslin. For my part, I haven't seen anything in the whole hall that I like so much, I assure you."

"How uncomfortable it is," Whispered Katharina, "not having a single acquaintance here!"

"Yes, my dear," replied Mrs. To all with complete serenity, "it's really very uncomfortable."

"What should we do? The gentlemen and ladies at this table look like they're wondering why we came here – we seem to be forcing ourselves to their party."

"Yes, we do. This is very unpleasant. I wish we had a great acquaintance here."

"I wish we had some – it was someone we could go to."

"Very true, my dear; and if we knew someone, we would join them directly. The Skinners were here last year – I wish they were here now."

"Shouldn't we better leave as it is? There's no tea stuff here for us, you see."

"There really aren't any more. How provocative! But I think we'd better sit still, because in such a crowd you get so overthrown! How is my head, my love? Someone gave me a push that hurt him, I'm afraid."

"No, it looks really nice. But, dear Mrs. Allen, are you sure that you don't know anyone among all these people? I think you need to know someone."

"I don't do that, at my word – I wish I had done it. I wish I had a great acquaintance here with all my heart, and then I should get you a partner. I would be so glad to let you dance. There goes a strange-looking woman! What a strange dress she wears! How old-fashioned! Look at the back."

After some time, they received a tea offer from one of their neighbors; it was gratefully accepted, and this led to a light conversation with the Lord who offered it, which was the only time anyone spoke to them during the evening until Mr. She discovered all of them and joined them when the dance was over.

"Well, Miss Fenmore," he said directly, "I hope you had a pleasant ball."

"Very pleasant indeed," she replied, trying in vain to hide a big yawn.

"I wish she could have danced," his wife said; "I wish we could have found a partner for them. I said how happy I would be if the Skinners were here this winter instead of the last one; or if the Parrys had come, as they once spoke, they might have danced with George Parry. I'm so sorry she didn't have a partner!"

"I hope we'll do better another night," was Mr. Allen's consolation.

Society began to disperse when the dance was over – enough to leave room for the rest to walk around in some comfort; and now it was time to notice and admire a heroine who had not yet played a very prominent role in the events of the evening. Every five minutes, by removing part of the crowd, their stimuli offered larger openings. She was now seen by many young men who had not been around her before. No one, however, was frightened by her sight in delightful amazement, no whisper of zealous questioning went through the room, nor was she once called a deity by anyone. Nevertheless, Catherine looked very good, and if society had seen her only three years ago, they would have considered her to be extremely handsome by now.

However, it was viewed with some admiration; because after their own hearing, two gentlemen declared her a pretty girl. Such words had their due effect; she immediately found the evening more pleasant than she had found it before – her humble vanity was satisfied – she felt more committed to the two young men for this simple praise than it would have been a real heroine for fifteen sonnets celebrating her charms, and went to her chair in a good mood with everyone and was completely satisfied with her share of public attention.