The morning was fine, but so much snow had fallen as to render
travelling a matter of conjecture.
Elizabeth found that absence and a good night’s sleep had lessened her
fears for her father. Emma was too happy to have fears for anyone.
The breakfast hour was pleasant. As the ladies were sitting together
afterwards, without announcement, and so without giving opportunity for
Elizabeth to be fearful before the event, the door half-opened, and
Lord Osborne’s head appeared.
“May I come in?” said he. “You look very comfortable.” Permission
was readily given, and having said what was civil to Mrs Blake and
Elizabeth, he sat down and remarked to Emma that he had heard of their
being snowed up there last night.
“Yes, my mother _would_ know who it was keeping Howard, and so I asked
the servant, and I am to give you my sister’s compliments, or love, or
something of that nature, and as soon as the road is made possible, she
will come and see you.”
“My sister and I will be very happy, if we are still of the party when
Miss Osborne calls on Mrs Blake,” replied Emma.
The announcement gave Mrs Blake no particular concern. Elizabeth’s
feelings were exactly what might be expected. Emma was embarrassed;
she knew they might soon be away, and was conscious that she desired no
addition to their party.
“It’s not such bad walking either as you would think,” said Lord
Osborne to nobody, and in answer to nothing, “and the walk down here is
screened from the wind, but you would be surprised to see the drifts.
It will be impossible for you to get through the lanes to-day, Miss
Watson.”
“We do not intend that they should make the attempt,” said their
hostess. She then tried to resume her conversation with Elizabeth,
which had been of real interest to her. As Miss Watson became hardened
to Lord Osborne’s presence, her faculties returned, and she was soon
almost as well able to advise Mrs Blake about her chickens, as she had
been before there was a peer in the room.
Lord Osborne had little to say, but seemed to find pleasure in looking
at Emma, who employed herself in the arrangement of Charles’ scrap-book.
The door-bell rang towards noon, and Miss Osborne was announced,
coming, as she declared at once, to call on Miss Emma Watson.
She was small and elegant, quite pretty enough to be called beautiful
in consideration of her birth. She talked for some time with animation,
as if it were a relief to escape from the Castle to the unrestrained
warmth and good-humour of the Parsonage.
“Where is your brother to-day, Mrs Blake?” she asked. “Is he afraid of
a scolding? My mother was sadly disappointed last night, but I think
he was to be excused.” This with a smile which included the two Miss
Watsons. “I must see Mr Howard, however, as I am charged with a message
from my mother to invite you all to come and dine at the Castle this
evening, and I was particularly enjoined to obtain an acceptance from
all.”
Elizabeth had ventured, endured, and in some measure succeeded, but now
felt that if achievement led only to so dire a prospect, it were better
to have stayed at home occupied between the kitchen and the parlour.
Miss Osborne’s proposal was followed by a short, hesitating silence.
Mrs Blake looked at Elizabeth. It was strange and unexpected that Miss
Watson should experience a sense of relief at having no suitable gown
for an occasion. Striving to conceal the eagerness of her refusal, she
said:
“I am afraid we cannot have the pleasure--do ourselves the honour, I
should say, but indeed we are quite unprepared. We have no dresses, and
even----” and she stopped embarrassed.
Miss Osborne looked surprised, and replied: “Surely that is no real
difficulty. We shall make no objection to your coming as you are. You
will be doing us a favour. You cannot imagine how dull we are. Mamma
dozes over a fire-screen, and Miss Carr and I sit and look at each
other.”
Lord Osborne edged his chair closer to Emma, and in a low tone pressed
the request that his sister had made.
“Do come. You look too good-natured to say no. I am sure you must be
monstrous obliging.”
Emma shook her head, and tried not to smile.
“And as to what your sister says about dresses, that’s nonsense you
know. I don’t mean that she talks nonsense, but it is foolish to care
about dress. You look very nice, you always do, and we don’t in the
least mind about your gown. My mother and sister have such quantities
of fine clothes themselves, that, depend on it, they will not the least
care about seeing more.”
It was evident to Miss Osborne that the ladies wished to discuss this
question among themselves. She therefore chatted good-naturedly on some
indifferent topics, and took her leave, promising that, if they decided
in favour of the Castle, the coach would be sent to fetch them. She
persuaded her brother to return with her, which was a particular relief
to Emma. Hardly was the house-door closed on them, when Elizabeth
exclaimed:
“Dear Mrs Blake, do tell me what we had better do. I am sure I would
much rather refuse if we may, but then it might not be thought right,
and I own if I were not so frightened, I should like to see the inside
of the Castle?”
Mrs Blake advised acceptance, and reminded Elizabeth that she and her
sister would not be wholly among strangers, as Mr Howard as well as
herself would be of the party.
Elizabeth, whilst admitting that this was much, expressed her feelings
by saying:
“But you cannot prevent Lady Osborne from seeing us.” At this moment
Mr Howard, who had been found by a servant at a cottage at some little
distance, entered the room. He had met Miss Osborne and her brother as
they were leaving the house, and accompanied her part of the way. As he
spoke he looked at Emma, who felt herself blush in the most shocking
manner. A dire suspicion had come into her mind. Mr Howard had been
walking with Miss Osborne. He began to urge acceptance, and her fears
were confirmed. Mr Howard had his own anxieties. He rightly connected
her blushes with the name of Osborne, but had no more thought of the
sister than Emma had of the brother. They were equally anxious and
equally mistaken.
Miss Osborne, as she walked home, was able to view the situation more
correctly. Her wishes were decidedly though calmly involved. A marriage
between Mr Howard and Emma Watson would be exactly to her liking, and
would remove her apprehension of having Mr Howard for a father-in-law.
Not that she had any dislike for Mr Howard, but she felt the
impropriety of Lady Osborne’s making so unequal a match, both as to age
and situation, and she could not be blind to her mother’s increasing
partiality for the young man.
A letter of acceptance followed Miss Osborne after a short interval.