The next morning brought a great many visitors. It was the way of the
place always to call on Mrs Edwards the morning after a ball, and this
neighbourly inclination was increased in the present instance by a
general spirit of curiosity on Emma’s account, as everybody wanted to
look again at the girl who had been admired the night before by Lord
Osborne. Many were the eyes, and various the degrees of approbation
with which she was examined. Some saw no fault, and some no beauty.
With some her brown skin was the annihilation of every grace, and
others could never be persuaded that she was half so handsome as
Elizabeth Watson had been ten years ago. The morning passed quickly
away in discussing the merits of the ball with all this succession of
company, and Emma was at once astonished by finding it two o’clock,
and considering that she had heard nothing of her father’s chair.
After this discovery she had walked twice to the window to examine the
street, and was on the point of asking leave to ring the bell and make
enquiries, when the light sound of a carriage driving up to the door
set her heart at ease. She stepped again to the window, but instead
of the convenient though very un-smart family equipage perceived a
neat curricle. Mr Musgrave was shortly afterwards announced; and
Mrs Edwards put on her very stiffest look at the sound. Not at all
dismayed, however, by her chilling air, he paid his compliments to each
of the ladies with no unbecoming ease, and continuing to address Emma
presented her a note, which “He had the honour of bringing from her
sister, but to which he must observe a verbal postscript from himself
would be requisite.”
The note, which Emma was beginning to read rather _before_ Mrs
Edwards had entreated her to use no ceremony, contained a few lines
from Elizabeth importing that their father, in consequence of being
unusually well, had taken the sudden resolution of attending the
visitation that day, and that as his road lay quite wide from D----
it was impossible for her to come home till the following morning,
unless the Edwards would send her, which was hardly to be expected, or
she could meet with any chance conveyance, or did not mind walking so
far. She had scarcely run her eye through the whole, before she found
herself obliged to listen to Tom Musgrave’s further account.
“I received that note from the fair hands of Miss Watson only ten
minutes ago,” said he. “I met her in the village of Stanton, whither my
good stars prompted me to turn my horses’ heads. She was at that moment
in quest of a person to employ on the errand, and I was fortunate
enough to convince her that she could not find a more willing or speedy
messenger than myself. Remember, I say nothing of my disinterestedness.
My reward is to be the indulgence of conveying you to Stanton in my
curricle. Though they are not written down, I bring your sister’s
orders for the same.”
Emma felt distressed; she did not like the proposal--she did not wish
to be on terms of intimacy with the proposer--and yet, fearful of
encroaching on the Edwards, as well as wishing to go home herself, she
was at a loss how entirely to decline what he offered. Mrs Edwards
continued silent, either not understanding the case, or waiting to see
how the young lady’s inclination lay. Emma thanked him, but professed
herself very unwilling to give him so much trouble. “The trouble was
of course honour, pleasure, delight--what had he or his horses to do?”
Still she hesitated. “She believed she must beg leave to decline his
assistance--she was rather afraid of the sort of carriage--the distance
was not beyond a walk.” Mrs Edwards was silent no longer. She enquired
into the particulars, and then said, “We shall be extremely happy, Miss
Emma, if you can give us the pleasure of your company till to-morrow;
but if you cannot conveniently do so, our carriage is quite at your
service, and Mary will be pleased with the opportunity of seeing your
sister.”
This was precisely what Emma had longed for, and she accepted the offer
most thankfully, acknowledging that as Elizabeth was entirely alone, it
was her wish to return home to dinner. The plan was warmly opposed by
their visitor----
“I cannot suffer it, indeed. I must not be deprived of the happiness of
escorting you. I assure you there is not a possibility of fear with
my horses. You might guide them yourself. _Your sisters_ all know how
quiet they are; they have none of them the smallest scruple in trusting
themselves with me, even on a race-course. Believe me,” added he,
lowering his voice, “_you_ are quite safe--the danger is only _mine_.”
Emma was not more disposed to oblige him for all this.
“And as to Mrs Edwards’ carriage being used the day after a ball, it is
a thing quite out of rule, I assure you--never heard of before; the old
coachman will look as black as his horses--won’t he, Miss Edwards?”
No notice was taken. The ladies were silently firm, and the gentleman
found himself obliged to submit.
“What a famous ball we had last night!” he cried, after a short pause.
“How long did you keep it up after the Osbornes and I went away?”
“We had two dances more.”
“It is making it too much of a fatigue, I think, to stay so late. I
suppose your set was not a very full one.”
“Yes; quite as full as ever, except the Osbornes. There seemed no
vacancy anywhere, and everybody danced with uncommon spirit to the very
last.”
Emma said this, though against her conscience.
“Indeed! Perhaps I might have looked in upon you again, if I had been
aware of as much, for I am rather fond of dancing than not. Miss
Osborne is a charming girl, is not she?”
“I do not think her handsome,” replied Emma, to whom all this was
chiefly addressed.
“Perhaps she is not critically handsome, but her manners are
delightful. And Fanny Carr is a most interesting little creature. You
can imagine nothing more _naïve_ or _piquante_; and what do you think
of Lord Osborne, Miss Watson?”
“That he would be handsome even though he were _not_ a lord, and,
perhaps, better bred; more desirous of pleasing, and showing himself
pleased in a right place.”
“Upon my word, you are severe upon my friend! I assure you Lord Osborne
is a very good fellow.”
“I do not dispute his virtues, but I do not like his careless air.”
“If it were not a breach of confidence,” replied Tom, with an important
look, “perhaps I might be able to win a more favourable opinion of poor
Osborne.”
Emma gave him no encouragement, and he was obliged to keep his friend’s
secret. He was also obliged to put an end to his visit, for Mrs Edwards
having ordered her carriage, there was no time to be lost on Emma’s
side in preparing for it. Miss Edwards accompanied her home, but as it
was dinner-hour at Stanton, stayed with them only a few minutes.