her young friend felt obliged to her for these wishes; but they
were repeated so often, and proved so totally ineffectual, that
Catherine grew tired at last, and would thank her no more.

They were not long able, however, to enjoy the repose of the eminence
they had so laboriously gained. Everybody was shortly in motion
for tea, and they must squeeze out like the rest. Catherine began
to feel something of disappointment -- she was tired of being
continually pressed against by people, the generality of whose
faces possessed nothing to interest, and with all of whom she was
so wholly unacquainted that she could not relieve the irksomeness
of imprisonment by the exchange of a syllable with any of her fellow
captives; and when at last arrived in the tea-room, she felt yet
more the awkwardness of having no party to join, no acquaintance
to claim, no gentleman to assist them. They saw nothing of Mr.
Allen; and after looking about them in vain for a more eligible
situation, were obliged to sit down at the end of a table, at which
a large party were already placed, without having anything to do
there, or anybody to speak to, except each other.

Mrs. Allen congratulated herself, as soon as they were seated, on
having preserved her gown from injury. "It would have been very
shocking to have it torn," said she, "would not it? It is such a
delicate muslin. For my part I have not seen anything I like so
well in the whole room, I assure you."

"How uncomfortable it is," whispered Catherine, "not to have a
single acquaintance here!"

"Yes, my dear," replied Mrs. Allen, with perfect serenity, "it is