Austen Said:

but I am sure it cannot be more than eight; and it is such a fag — I come back tired to death. Now, here one can step out of doors and get a thing in five minutes.”

“What are you thinking of so earnestly?”

“not of your partner, I hope, for, by that shake of the head, your meditations are not satisfactory.”

“That is artful and deep, to be sure; but I had rather be told at once that you will not tell me.”

“Thank you; for now we shall soon be acquainted, as I am authorized to tease you on this subject whenever we meet, and nothing in the world advances intimacy so much.”

“What a delightful place Bath is,”

“and how pleasant it would be if we had any acquaintance here.”

“I wish we had some acquaintance in Bath!”

“How glad I am we have met with Mrs. Thorpe!”

“And I hope, madam, that Mr. Allen will be obliged to like the place, from finding it of service to him.”

“That circumstance must give great encouragement.”

“Did you meet Mr. Tilney, my dear?”

“He was with us just now, and

said

so I thought perhaps he would ask you, if he met with you.”

“Ah! He has got a partner; I wish he had asked you,”

“he is a very agreeable young man.”

“I dare say she thought I was speaking of her son.”

“Do just as you please, my dear,”

“Well, my dear, here you are,”

“and I hope you have had a pleasant airing?”

“So

Mrs. Thorpe said;

“Yes, I went to the pump-room as soon as you were gone, and there I met her, and we had a great deal of talk together.

She says

“Yes; we agreed to take a turn in the Crescent, and there we met Mrs. Hughes, and Mr. and Miss Tilney walking with her.”

“Yes, we walked along the Crescent together for half an hour. They seem very agreeable people. Miss Tilney was in a very pretty spotted muslin, and I fancy, by what I can learn, that she always dresses very handsomely. Mrs. Hughes talked to me a great deal about the family.”

“Oh! A vast deal indeed; she hardly talked of anything else.”

“Yes, she did; but I cannot recollect now. But they are very good kind of people, and very rich.

“Yes, I fancy they are, but I am not quite certain. Upon recollection, however, I have a notion they are both dead; at least the mother is; yes, I am sure Mrs. Tilney is dead, because

Mrs. Hughes told me

“I cannot be quite positive about that, my dear; I have some idea he is; but, however,

Mrs. Hughes says,

“Henry!”

“Yes, he does dance very well.”

“When Henry had the pleasure of seeing you before, he was in Bath but for a couple of days. He came only to engage lodgings for us.”

“Yes, an acquaintance of Mrs. Hughes.”

“Not very.”

“Yes, sometimes; but he has rid out this morning with my father.”

“Perhaps we — Yes, I think we certainly shall.”

“That gentleman would have put me out of patience, had he stayed with you half a minute longer. He has no business to withdraw the attention of my partner from me. We have entered into a contract of mutual agreeableness for the space of an evening, and all our agreeableness belongs solely to each other for that time. Nobody can fasten themselves on the notice of one, without injuring the rights of the other. I consider a country-dance as an emblem of marriage. Fidelity and complaisance are the principal duties of both; and those men who do not choose to dance or marry themselves, have no business with the partners or wives of their neighbours.”

“ — That you think they cannot be compared together.”

“And such is your definition of matrimony and dancing. Taken in that light certainly, their resemblance is not striking; but I think I could place them in such a view. You will allow, that in both, man has the advantage of choice, woman only the power of refusal; that in both, it is an engagement between man and woman, formed for the advantage of each; and that when once entered into, they belong exclusively to each other till the moment of its dissolution; that it is their duty, each to endeavour to give the other no cause for wishing that he or she had bestowed themselves elsewhere, and their best interest to keep their own imaginations from wandering towards the perfections of their neighbours, or fancying that they should have been better off with anyone else. You will allow all this?”

“In one respect, there certainly is a difference. In marriage, the man is supposed to provide for the support of the woman, the woman to make the home agreeable to the man; he is to purvey, and she is to smile. But in dancing, their duties are exactly changed; the agreeableness, the compliance are expected from him, while she furnishes the fan and the lavender water. That, I suppose, was the difference of duties which struck you, as rendering the conditions incapable of comparison.”

“Then I am quite at a loss. One thing, however, I must observe. This disposition on your side is rather alarming. You totally disallow any similarity in the obligations; and may I not thence infer that your notions of the duties of the dancing state are not so strict as your partner might wish? Have I not reason to fear that if the gentleman who spoke to you just now were to return, or if any other gentleman were to address you, there would be nothing to restrain you from conversing with him as long as you chose?”

“And is that to be my only security? Alas, alas!”

“Now you have given me a security worth having; and I shall proceed with courage. Do you find Bath as agreeable as when I had the honour of making the inquiry before?”

“More so! Take care, or you will forget to be tired of it at the proper time. You ought to be tired at the end of six weeks.”

“Bath, compared with London, has little variety, and so everybody finds out every year. ‘For six weeks, I allow Bath is pleasant enough; but beyond that, it is the most tiresome place in the world.’ You would be told so by people of all descriptions, who come regularly every winter, lengthen their six weeks into ten or twelve, and go away at last because they can afford to stay no longer.”

“You are not fond of the country.”