“‘I do not know, indeed.’
“‘Yes, I know he does; I saw him. You are talking of the man you danced with last night, are not you?’
“‘Yes.’
“‘Well, I saw him at that moment turn up the Lansdowne Road, driving a smart-looking girl.’
“‘Did you, indeed?’
“‘Did, upon my soul, knew him again directly; and he seemed to have got some very pretty cattle too.’
“‘It is very odd. But I suppose they thought it would be too dirty for a walk.’
“‘And well they might, for I never saw so much dirt in my life.’”
Catherine gives way. She starts in an unsettled frame of mind, divided between sorrow for the loss of her walk and still greater vexation at the thought that the Tilneys have not acted well by her, and delight at exploring an edifice like “Udolpho”—as her fancy represents Blaize Castle to be—which John Thorpe freely promises she shall explore in every hole and corner.
Are there left in England half-a-dozen romantic girls to whom the opportunity of visiting an old castle would be so great a treat?