"I am quite of your opinion, sir," replied Mrs. Allen; "and so I
told Miss Morland when she bought it."

"But then you know, madam, muslin always turns to some account or
other; Miss Morland will get enough out of it for a handkerchief,
or a cap, or a cloak. Muslin can never be said to be wasted. I have
heard my sister say so forty times, when she has been extravagant
in buying more than she wanted, or careless in cutting it to pieces."

"Bath is a charming place, sir; there are so many good shops here.
We are sadly off in the country; not but what we have very good
shops in Salisbury, but it is so far to go -- eight miles is a
long way; Mr. Allen says it is nine, measured nine; 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."

Mr. Tilney was polite enough to seem interested in what she
said; and she kept him on the subject of muslins till the dancing
recommenced. Catherine feared, as she listened to their discourse,
that he indulged himself a little too much with the foibles of
others. "What are you thinking of so earnestly?" said he, as they
walked back to the ballroom; "not of your partner, I hope, for, by
that shake of the head, your meditations are not satisfactory."

Catherine coloured, and said, "I was not thinking of anything."

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