Chapter 25

           Thevisionsofromancewereover.Catherinewascompletelyawakened.Henry’saddress,shortasithadbeen,hadmorethoroughlyopenedhereyestotheextravaganceofherlatefanciesthanalltheirseveraldisappointmentshaddone.Mostgrievouslywasshehumbled.Mostbitterlydidshecry.Itwasnotonlywithherselfthatshewassunk—butwithHenry.Herfolly,whichnowseemedevencriminal,wasallexposedtohim,andhemustdespiseherforever.Thelibertywhichherimaginationhaddaredtotakewiththecharacterofhisfather—couldheeverforgiveit?Theabsurdityofhercuriosityandherfears—couldtheyeverbeforgotten?Shehatedherselfmorethanshecouldexpress.Hehad—shethoughthehad,onceortwicebeforethisfatalmorning,shownsomethinglikeaffectionforher.Butnow—inshort,shemadeherselfasmiserableaspossibleforabouthalfanhour,wentdownwhentheclockstruckfive,withabrokenheart,andcouldscarcelygiveanintelligibleanswertoEleanor’sinquiryifshewaswell.TheformidableHenrysoonfollowedherintotheroom,andtheonlydifferenceinhisbehaviourtoherwasthathepaidherrathermoreattentionthanusual.Catherinehadneverwantedcomfortmore,andhelookedasifhewasawareofit.

           Theeveningworeawaywithnoabatementofthissoothingpoliteness;andherspiritsweregraduallyraisedtoamodesttranquillity.Shedidnotlearneithertoforgetordefendthepast;butshelearnedtohopethatitwouldnevertranspirefarther,andthatitmightnotcostherHenry’sentireregard.