The weather, so long watched and waited on, was not after all to bring
a decision. The snow remained, but the Miss Watsons returned home.
About eleven o’clock, whilst the ladies were employed at their
needlework, a note was handed to Miss Watson, with the information that
a post-chaise was waiting. With much surprise Elizabeth opened the
dispatch.
It was from her father, telling her that he was wearied by their long
absence, and had sent their man to the town for a post-chaise, in which
they could return home by taking the highroad. This, although greatly
adding to the distance, would be safer than the lanes. The man could
follow with their own conveyance at his leisure. He begged them to
return without delay. Elizabeth was relieved, and in the anticipation
of home, recollected all her anxieties.
There was some sadness felt by all at parting, but Mr Howard was the
real sufferer. He comforted himself, however, by offering to ride over
to Stanton in a few days’ time, to recover the additional wraps which
Mrs Blake insisted on providing.
The journey home was made in comfort and without adventure. The
sisters had much to think of, and spoke but little. Elizabeth had no
experience which she could at all compare with that of the last few
days, and Emma had too many thoughts to compare any of them.
The arrival home was all that could be wished. Mr Watson was genuinely
glad to see them, and Margaret for a few minutes was absent from the
parlour. This, however, gave her additional grounds for complaint when
she did appear.
“You are to have all the fun, and I am not even to hear of it. I had
hoped to get some news. I am sure I am almost dead with wearisome
dullness, for not a creature have we seen. No one has been near
us. Some people contrive to keep all the amusement, all the luck,
everything that is good and pleasant to themselves.”
As Elizabeth recounted, Margaret’s anger grew, and she was ready to cry
with vexation to think of her sisters having so much to amuse them.
Elizabeth and Emma were unfortunate in being obliged to listen to these
recitals of grievances, while unable to enjoy any of the pleasure which
Margaret obtained from them.
Elizabeth was kept busily employed for some days in putting to rights
the things which had gone awry during their absence, and in assisting
her, Emma found more happy contentment than she had hitherto enjoyed at
Stanton.
Several times each day, Elizabeth, with a sigh, expressed the wish
that one thing or another would look more as they had it at the
Castle. Emma’s thoughts must be suppressed, but it did occur to her
that between Osborne Castle and Stanton there was a happy mean, which
might exactly suit herself. After a few days, as the snow melted, Emma
found herself frequently at the window. On the following Wednesday,
while busy upstairs, she heard the pleasant bustle of an arrival, and
hurrying down, all expectation, met--Tom Musgrave.
Emma had some experience of the efforts required by politeness, but
never had she found it harder to call up a smile--Tom Musgrave, with
his usual chatter of dogs, horses, and the Castle! Mr Watson was not
there to check him, and he ran on and on.
“You have no idea,” he declared, “of how we do things at Osborne
Castle. It is unfortunate that you could not see over the place, when
you were staying at the Parsonage. If I had only been at the Castle, I
would have arranged it for you.”
“But,” broke in Margaret, “they did go to the Castle, dining, and this
and that and the other for three days, and I here all the time with a
headache and no one to speak to.”
Tom Musgrave turned to the others for confirmation of this amazing
recital, but Emma had grown impatient, and there was only Elizabeth to
answer him.
Emma’s expectation of the relief to be gained in the garden was fully
justified. Hardly had she stepped out into the fresh air, when she
became aware of Mr Howard dismounting at the gate.
They met with an appearance of mutual satisfaction, but after the
first greetings, Emma found that she must carry on the conversation by
herself. After a few attempts to gain his interest, she enquired:
“Are you not well, Mr Howard?”
“Perfectly so, I thank you.”
“Then you must be out of humour,” she declared; “only I feel there
should be a more polite word.”
“Be charitable, and call it out of spirits,” he replied. There was a
short pause, broken by Mr Howard. “I am the bearer of this note from
Miss Osborne.”
Emma opened the letter handed to her, and found, to her surprise, that
it was an invitation for the Miss Watsons to a concert and ball at the
Castle for the following Tuesday. Her surprise increased as she read
on, and learnt that she herself was pressed to stay the night. “Let it
be two or three rather than one,” was added.
“A ball and a concert!” she exclaimed. “How delightful! If only my
father will consent! You and Mrs Blake will, of course, be there?”
“Yes,” he replied.
Emma, by no means willing to be at one with him in lack of animation,
went on: “Then I may be sure of one partner.”
“I only wish----” he began, but what he wished is for ever uncertain,
for Mr Watson called to them from the window, and desired that Mr
Howard might be brought upstairs. Mr Howard seemed relieved at anything
that made it unnecessary to finish the sentence he had begun. Emma
witnessed a cordial greeting, and was then prepared to leave them.
“No, no, Emma,” protested her father. “You are to stay and talk to Mr
Howard. I am fit only to put in a word or two at a time. When you have
suffered half what I have, Howard, you will be glad to let a daughter
like Emma talk for you.”
“Indeed, sir, I only wish I had any prospect of a daughter like Miss
Emma Watson.”
Emma produced the letter for her father’s inspection. He read it, and
remarked:
“Osbornes and castles! I wish you had never known them. You are only
just home, and now must be going away again. No! No! It will turn all
your heads. You are better all at home.”
“I am sure, sir, I do not wish to go if you disapprove,” said Emma.
She could not have used better words. Mr Watson’s opposition was likely
to melt much faster than snow, when there was nothing to oppose.
“Well, well,” he went on, “I am not to be left with Margaret. Elizabeth
is to come home with her.”
“I am sure,” said Mr Howard, “Miss Osborne will be much disappointed
if the invitation is not accepted. She is most anxious to be better
acquainted with your daughter.”
“I dare say. Why should she not? But I hope Emma does not flatter her.”
“Indeed, I hope not, sir,” cried Emma, and looked at Mr Howard for
sympathy. But his countenance was clouded, and thereafter Emma’s
gentlest efforts at conversation were unavailing.
A few more sentences were exchanged. Mr Howard was conducted downstairs
and, after a few minutes’ conversation in the parlour, set out for
home with the parcels neatly packed away by Emma in the saddle-bags.
He had much to occupy his mind. He had started from home in the morning
in the usual unequal spirits of a lover. His sister, perceiving that he
needed a ride, and a ride in a certain direction, had insisted that she
could no longer spare a certain cloak which she had lent to Elizabeth,
and he must not fail to go to Stanton and fetch it. On his way thither
he had called at the Castle, and had there been taken into confidence
by Lord Osborne.
“It will be a deuced poor connection, but I mean to marry her. What do
you think, Howard?” had been Lord Osborne’s method of seeking advice.
Mr Howard had replied that the lady was certainly most charming, and
enquired as to whether Miss Emma might be supposed to be willing.
“As to that,” replied his lordship, “I have only just made up my mind.
As I watched you riding through the park, in fact, but I am not one
to change. I perceive not the least distaste on her part, and what is
there to hinder us?”
Mr Howard’s reflections on the ride to Stanton had been very simple
and very sad. Emma was to be Lady Osborne, and he himself was to
die a bachelor. It was not surprising that Emma found him lacking
in animation. Her own feelings after his departure were those of
bewilderment, and it was with an effort that she returned to the
parlour, and listened to her sister’s comments on the invitation from
the Castle.