Austen Said:

To have her acquaintance with the Tilneys end so soon

her delight in Mr. Allen’s lengthened stay

her father’s having just determined upon quitting Bath by the end of another week.

might introduce a desire of their corresponding.

To receive so flattering an invitation!

This indulgence,

being favoured beyond every other human creature, in friends and fortune, circumstance and chance. Everything seemed to cooperate for her advantage. By the kindness of her first friends, the Allens, she had been introduced into scenes where pleasures of every kind had met her. Her feelings, her preferences, had each known the happiness of a return. Wherever she felt attachment, she had been able to create it. The affection of Isabella was to be secured to her in a sister. The Tilneys, they, by whom, above all, she desired to be favourably thought of, outstripped even her wishes in the flattering measures by which their intimacy was to be continued.

She was to be their chosen visitor, she was to be for weeks under the same roof with the person whose society she mostly prized — and, in addition to all the rest, this roof was to be the roof of an abbey!

It was wonderful that her friends should seem so little elated by the possession of such a home, that the consciousness of it should be so meekly borne. The power of early habit only could account for it. A distinction to which they had been born gave no pride. Their superiority of abode was no more to them than their superiority of person.

Northanger Abbey having been a richly endowed convent at the time of the Reformation, of its having fallen into the hands of an ancestor of the Tilneys on its dissolution, of a large portion of the ancient building still making a part of the present dwelling although the rest was decayed, or of its standing low in a valley, sheltered from the north and east by rising woods of oak.

her astonishment at such a charge,

her innocence of every thought of Mr. Thorpe’s being in love with her, and the consequent impossibility of her having ever intended to encourage him.

she should join Mrs. Allen,

their walking.

She was so amazingly tired, and it was so odious to parade about the pump-room; and if she moved from her seat she should miss her sisters; she was expecting her sisters every moment; so that her dearest Catherine must excuse her, and must sit quietly down again.

Captain Tilney was falling in love with Isabella, and Isabella unconsciously encouraging him; unconsciously it must be, for Isabella’s attachment to James was as certain and well acknowledged as her engagement. To doubt her truth or good intentions was impossible; and yet, during the whole of their conversation her manner had been odd.

Isabella had talked more like her usual self, and not so much about money, and had not looked so well pleased at the sight of Captain Tilney. How strange that she should not perceive his admiration!

give her a hint of it,

put her on her guard, and prevent all the pain which her too lively behaviour might otherwise create both for him and her brother.

That he should think it worth his while to fancy himself in love with her

Isabella talked of his attentions; she had never been sensible of any; but Isabella had said many things which she hoped had been spoken in haste, and would never be said again;

Isabella could not be aware of the pain she was inflicting;

He might be jealous of her brother as a rival, but if more had seemed implied, the fault must have been in her misapprehension.

his brother’s evident partiality for Miss Thorpe,

him to make known her prior engagement.

Henry Tilney must know best.

never to think so seriously on the subject again.

the inquietude of his mind, on Isabella’s account, might, by keeping him long sleepless, have been the real cause of his rising late.

he could not propose anything improper for her;

a curricle was the prettiest equipage in the world; the chaise and four wheeled off with some grandeur, to be sure, but it was a heavy and troublesome business,

Henry drove so well — so quietly — without making any disturbance, without parading to her, or swearing at them:

so different from the only gentleman-coachman whom it was in her power to compare him with!

And then his hat sat so well, and the innumerable capes of his greatcoat looked so becomingly important! To be driven by him, next to being dancing with him, was certainly the greatest happiness in the world.

her attention had been fixed without the smallest apprehension of really meeting with what he related.

“Miss Tilney, she was sure, would never put her into such a chamber as he had described! She was not at all afraid.”

An abbey! Yes, it was delightful to be really in an abbey!

To be sure, the pointed arch was preserved — the form of them was Gothic — they might be even casements — but every pane was so large, so clear, so light!

she would find it comfortable,

she would make as little alteration as possible in her dress.

to lose no time in particular examination of anything, as she greatly dreaded disobliging the general by any delay.

If not originally theirs, by what strange events could it have fallen into the Tilney family?

she had never seen so large a room as this in her life.

She had nothing to dread from midnight assassins or drunken gallants. Henry had certainly been only in jest in what he had told her that morning. In a house so furnished, and so guarded, she could have nothing to explore or to suffer, and might go to her bedroom as securely as if it had been her own chamber at Fullerton.

Miss Tilney slept only two doors from her,

“She should take her time; she should not hurry herself; she did not care if she were the last person up in the house. But she would not make up her fire; that would seem cowardly, as if she wished for the protection of light after she were in bed.”

though there could be nothing really in it, there was something whimsical, it was certainly a very remarkable coincidence!

It was not absolutely ebony and gold; but it was japan, black and yellow japan of the handsomest kind; and as she held her candle, the yellow had very much the effect of gold. The key was in the door,

not, however, with the smallest expectation of finding anything, but it was so very odd, after what Henry had said.

but how strangely mysterious! The door was still immovable.

“never from the first had the smallest idea of finding anything in any part of the cabinet, and was not in the least disappointed at her ill success thus far, it would be foolish not to examine it thoroughly while she was about it.”