With a look of much respect, he immediately rose, and being introduced to her by her conscious daughter as "Mr.Henry Tilney," with the embarrassment of real sensibility began to apologize for his appearance there, acknowledging that after what had passed he had little right to expect a welcome at Fullerton, and stating his impatience to be assured of Miss Morland's having reached her home in safety, as the cause of his intrusion.

He did not address himself to an uncandid judge or a resentful heart.

Far from comprehending him or his sister in their father's misconduct, Mrs.Morland had been always kindly disposed towards each, and instantly, pleased by his appearance, received him with the simple professions of unaffected benevolence; thanking him for such an attention to her daughter, assuring him that the friends of her children were always welcome there, and entreating him to say not another word of the past.
He was not ill-inclined to obey this request, for, though his heart was greatly relieved by such unlooked-for mildness, it was not just at that moment in his power to say anything to the purpose.

Returning in silence to his seat, therefore, he remained for some minutes most civilly answering all Mrs.Morland's common remarks about the weather and roads.

Catherine meanwhile--the anxious, agitated, happy, feverish Catherine--said not a word; but her glowing cheek and brightened eye made her mother trust that this good-natured visit would at least set her heart at ease for a time, and gladly therefore did she lay aside the first volume of The Mirror for a future hour.
Desirous of Mr.Morland's assistance, as well in giving encouragement, as in finding conversation for her guest, whose embarrassment on his father's account she earnestly pitied, Mrs.Morland had very early dispatched one of the children to summon him; but Mr.Morland was from home--and being thus without any support, at the end of a quarter of an hour she had nothing to say.