My character and abilities are exactly the same as they were a week ago.
But in General Tilney’s eyes, only now was he a man worth knowing. Philip could always have well-provided for Eleanor, and her own fortune could have aided them, but now he was a viscount with an estate and a fortune. General Tilney watched him as he sat, waiting for him to speak. What a novelty to have the general’s undivided attention and patience. It galled Philip, and for a moment he wished to throw back at him all of his harshness, impatience, and imagined superiority.
Eleanor would say, “What would that change?” and Philip knew the answer was “Not a thing.”
The general’s character was set, and all it would do was make Eleanor’s final weeks at Northanger more miserable. What did it indicate that the general’s grown children were at least down-spirited around him and, at worst, afraid of him? This was a man who threw out a seventeen-year-old girl—his children’s friend—at dawn, without the means to return home, and all because she was not a wealthy heiress as he had assumed.
General Tilney was a dangerous man.
He had never struck Eleanor, but her emotions were injured for years, her very spirit stifled, and she was demeaned. She was not locked in a garret, but was isolated from her friends. What might the general have done to her if she had asserted herself, truly defied him? Her money was not gambled away, but kept from her as a means to control her. What further violence or outrage or cruelty was he capable of against his own child?
Perhaps he and Eleanor had been right to not cross the general and try to elope years ago.
“My lord, I hope Eleanor was a gracious hostess yesterday,” said the general. “You took her quite by surprise, I am sure. You gave us no hint at Welland that you soon intended to visit this part of Gloucestershire. I suppose you were wanting the company of your friends after hearing the sad news about your cousin.”
Philip had seen but never before personally experienced the general’s great civilities—his thanks, invitations, and compliments. Instead of bows and politeness, he wanted General Tilney to be called to task for how he had unappreciated and tormented Eleanor. Philip wanted to lay at his feet every slight, injustice, and cruelty Eleanor had suffered.
And if I did that, would General Tilney say that he recollected with bitter remorse that he had made Eleanor suffer? That he knew it and regretted it, and would now do right by his only daughter who gave her father years of service?
Philip looked at the general and held back a sigh. There was not a chance on this earth, and now he knew what Eleanor meant when she told him to keep his patience.
“Sir, Miss Tilney is generous, intelligent, accomplished.” Philip ran his damp palms down his legs. Even though he was certain of his approval, Philip still felt anxious at speaking openly with the general. He saw the eager look on the general’s face and decided that elucidating on all the reasons why he loved Eleanor would not be necessary. “She is delightful, the delight of my life, in fact, and she has agreed to make me the happiest of men. It is our earnest hope that you would consent to our union.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” General Tilney cried. “I heartily approve of the match. It never entered my head to suspect an attachment on either side, but nothing could be more natural than Eleanor being beloved.”
“I suspect my fortune plays a great deal in your ready acceptance,” he said, unable to keep the sting of resentment from his tone.
“That is hardly a concern,” General Tilney said, rising to shake his hand warmly. “When Eleanor first suggested that you were fond of her, I was exceedingly pleased. I had not suspected it, but her mentioning it first put the idea into my head what a fine match it would be. Second cousins, childhood friends and all. You keep yourself employed and have noble connexions. A fine match for Eleanor!” he cried. “Your income is nothing. I only care for money in how it can promote my children’s happiness. And, as you will see when we draw up the settlement papers, Eleanor is well-provided for from her mother’s settlement and also by me.” He smiled again as they finished shaking hands and sat again.
“Then you must be pleased to know that I can now make Miss Tilney very happy. I suppose you would want confirmation of my income and what pin money she will have?” For Eleanor’s sake, he worked harder to hide his bitterness. “I am still settling the late viscount’s estate, but I am confident that Belleville earns fifteen thousand a year.”
“Oh, it is her happiness that matters to me the most,” said the general, grinning widely. “I could not part with her for anyone less worthy than someone of your character who has a genuine affection for her. And how fine a thing to be at Belleville, only fifty miles from Northanger! So near to her family. No, no, the money and title are nothing.”
It was all empty professions, but Philip focused his mind on the fruition of all of his and Eleanor’s hopes.
“We would like to marry before the summer is out, if that meets with your approval. I have had a significant change in fortune and consequence—as you know,” he said heavily, “and want to have Miss Tilney be part in establishing my future life and position.” He also wanted to remove Eleanor from all the evils of such a home as Northanger.
“I have no objection, none at all. Lady Vaughan! How fine that sounds. Yes, certainly you want your wife to settle and manage your new home after such an assumption of dignity. Three weeks from this Sunday is perfectly agreeable. You shall be out of black by then.”
A mere three weeks of black for a cousin. It was far too short for all that Vaughan had meant to him. “Six weeks would be more fitting for His Lordship. But after those six weeks, Miss Tilney need only name the day.”
General Tilney looked put-upon and his expression darkened, but he then gave a faint smile and rose to look at an almanac on his desk. “Yes, that would suit me, my lord. Let us see, six weeks since His Lordship died is Monday, June 25.”
This was said as though the decision had been made. He had wanted Eleanor’s input, but Philip decided not to antagonise the general and insist on asking her first. He knew Eleanor was as eager to marry as he was. “I approve, and more importantly, I think that Miss Tilney shall have no objection.”
“It shall be summer by then, a fine time to marry. I hope you will be a frequent visitor at Northanger Abbey during that season of courtship.”
“Undoubtedly, but I have business to attend to: I must execute the late viscount’s will and change my own, and I shall have settlement papers to draw up. Belleville is only a half day’s ride away.” He rose, and he enjoyed General Tilney’s having to rise as well. Being able to bow and leave whenever he wished was one benefit of now being a viscount. “By your leave, I should like to speak to Miss Tilney before I return home.”
“You need not leave so soon, my lord. You only just arrived, and I should like to know my son-in-law better.”
Philip knew the only value he had to the general was a title and considerable fortune. “I will stay another day, but I have much to do at Belleville. I must complete the petition to the Lord Chancellor. I must officially ask that a writ of summons to the House of Lords be sent so I can take my seat in the next session of Parliament, complete with proof of my being Vaughan’s heir presumptive. There is much to be settled at the house, but once that is done, I can return in ten days if Miss Tilney wishes it.”
Philip made a point of referencing Eleanor’s wishes, but the general only said he was welcome to return to Northanger at any time. He must consider it as much his home as Belleville. “And you must feel free to call her Eleanor amongst her family. Perhaps she has not given her permission to call her by that name to others, but I grant it eagerly.”
Philip put on a polite smile, trying to look gracious. “Since she allowed us to speak privately, I should like to tell Eleanor of your approval. I expect, given that we are engaged, that you will allow me to correspond freely with her?” He said this while giving the general a hard look. “And I am certain she will want to share her happy news with her friends as well.”
“You may write to her. It would be an odd thing if the happy couple did not write to one another, after all.”
