There, it is twenty minutes after twelve, and
now I shall give it up entirely. Oh! That we had such weather here
as they had at Udolpho, or at least in Tuscany and the south of
France!--the night that poor St. Aubin died!--such beautiful weather!"

At half past twelve, when Catherine's anxious attention to the weather
was over and she could no longer claim any merit from its amendment, the
sky began voluntarily to clear. A gleam of sunshine took her quite by
surprise; she looked round; the clouds were parting, and she instantly
returned to the window to watch over and encourage the happy appearance.
Ten minutes more made it certain that a bright afternoon would succeed,
and justified the opinion of Mrs. Allen, who had "always thought it
would clear up." But whether Catherine might still expect her friends,
whether there had not been too much rain for Miss Tilney to venture,
must yet be a question.

It was too dirty for Mrs. Allen to accompany her husband to the
pump-room; he accordingly set off by himself, and Catherine had barely
watched him down the street when her notice was claimed by the approach
of the same two open carriages, containing the same three people that
had surprised her so much a few mornings back.

"Isabella, my brother, and Mr. Thorpe, I declare! They are coming for
me perhaps--but I shall not go--I cannot go indeed, for you know Miss
Tilney may still call." Mrs. Allen agreed to it. John Thorpe was soon
with them, and his voice was with them yet sooner, for on the stairs he
was calling out to Miss Morland to be quick. "Make haste! Make haste!"
as he threw open the door. "Put on your hat this moment--there is no
time to be lost--we are going to Bristol. How d'ye do, Mrs. Allen?"

"To Bristol! Is not that a great way off? But, however, I cannot go with
you today, because I am engaged; I expect some friends every moment."
This was of course vehemently talked down as no reason at all; Mrs.
Allen was called on to second him, and the two others walked in, to give
their assistance. "My sweetest Catherine, is not this delightful? We
shall have a most heavenly drive. You are to thank your brother and me
for the scheme; it darted into our heads at breakfast-time, I verily
believe at the same instant; and we should have been off two hours ago
if it had not been for this detestable rain. But it does not signify,
the nights are moonlight, and we shall do delightfully. Oh! I am in such
ecstasies at the thoughts