By Rhonda, the Chief Acolyte

Part One

"Mrs. Tilney! Mrs. Tilney!"

Five giddy little girls ran into the sitting room adjoining the entrance of the parsonage, searching for Henry Tilney's new wife. In three months, the little girls of Woodston had taken a liking to Catherine, following her after the Sunday services, clinging to her arms, fingers, and legs. They found that the young Mrs. Tilney made an excellent friend and playmate, for she was always willing to admire their dolls and talk to them about their games.

"Hello, Sarah, Fanny, Mary! Jane and Patty! Hello girls!" Catherine exclaimed. "Are you ready for a story today?"

"Oh, yes, please, Mrs. Tilney!" Sarah and Fanny grinned in unison. They were the five-year-old twin girls, along with three-year-old Jane, of Mrs. Charles Browning, who was entering the parlor with Mrs. Robert Jones, the mother of four-year-old Mary and three-year-old Patty.

Catherine looked up and greeted them with a smile. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Browning, Mrs. Jones. How do you do today?"

"Oh, dear Mrs. Tilney, we are in excellent health today," answered Mrs. Jones, her eyes twinkling. "We cannot tell you how happy we are that you invited our girls for storytelling! They have talked of nothing else since Sunday, I declare."

"My girls also have been waiting impatiently for today to come," Mrs. Browning agreed. "They were constantly glancing at the calendar, wanting it to be Thursday! They do like you, Mrs. Tilney! Oh, I almost forgot to ask--how is Mr. Tilney?"

"He is well, ma'am," answered Catherine. "He was obliged to ride to Northanger early this morning. I expect him back early this evening, hopefully before dinner." She paused. "I am worried about the weather. Do you think it looks like rain?"

"Possibly, my dear," Mrs. Browning said. "We were worried this morning, but did not want to disappoint the girls. We will not be burdened by it, though. Our homes are not very far, and the roads do not get very muddy. The carriage will have no problems. But I do hope Mr. Tilney returns home in time, for your sake."

During this exchange, the girls arranged themselves in a semi-circle around a wing chair, chattering noisily. Catherine offered the mothers seats on the far side of the room, where they could work and visit without disturbing the story. Then she picked up a new copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales, and began to read.

Catherine began with the classic story of Cinderella. The girls listened intently, leaning forward with anticipation, the emotion expressed in their faces altered with the twists and turns of the plot. Catherine's romantic sentiments made her reading full of feeling and emotion, that the girls were captivated, unable to tear their attention away.

...The maiden went to her mother's grave every day and wept, and she continued to be devout and good. When the winter came, the snow spread a white covering on the grave. And when the sun of spring had unveiled it again, the husband took another wife...

...They took away her pretty clothes and made her put on an old grey frock, and gave her wooden shoes...

...Then the girl brought the dish to her stepmother, and was delighted to think that now she would be a able to go to the feast with them. But she said, "No, Cinderella, you have no clothes and cannot dance. You will only be laughed at."...

...She danced until nightfall and then wanted to go home, but the Prince said, "I will go with you and escort you."

He wanted to see to whom the beautiful maiden belonged. But she slipped out of his way and sprang into the pigeon house."...

Catherine had to stop the story momentarily to light a nearby lamp and ask for the fire to be stoked. Dark clouds covered the sky, and the wind was beginning to howl. The girls looked up at her, waiting for the continuation of the story, but now aware of the sudden chill. Little Patty noticeably shivered, and reached for a nearby blanket.

"My, oh my, it is starting to storm," Mrs. Jones mentioned. "Those clouds are so foreboding."

It was now Catherine's turn to shiver. "I wonder where Henry is?" she mused.

The dark rain began to wildly beat against the glass panes of the windows.

Continued in Part Two

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