The last performance was approved, and all moved towards the
supper-room, where Emma found herself at a table without one person
to interest her. Lord Osborne was witty at the expense of a deaf old
lady, and Tom Musgrave must of course be so too. Margaret, sitting
beside Tom, was prepared to be as bad as either and, as the young men
passed the wine, Emma was forced to exert all her powers to keep the
conversation within bounds. She was much relieved when a stir was
made amongst the company to leave the room. Mrs Blake and Elizabeth
approached their table, the former saying:
“Miss Elizabeth wished that we might all move together.” Mrs Blake
shouted in Lady F----’s ear, and they stood up, Margaret and Tom
Musgrave remaining seated.
Emma spoke to Margaret. “Let us all move out together.”
“Yes, in an instant,” replied Margaret and, turning to Tom Musgrave,
said something not audible to the others.
Emma lingered, and the whole party was hindered.
“Do not trouble as to Margaret. She will be only the more obstinate, if
we delay. She is used to do for herself,” whispered Elizabeth, and Emma
had perforce to move with the party.
On reaching the ball-room, the party was joined by Mr Howard, who
began to speak with Miss Watson. At the same moment Sir William Gordon
applied to Emma for the privilege of standing up with her. She could
not do otherwise than accept, and in the enjoyment of the dance with
a lively partner, forgot her disappointment, after seeing that Mr
Howard and Elizabeth stood up together. Sir William did not return to
the subject of Lady Osborne’s marriage, and Emma was almost able to
persuade herself that he had spoken in jest.
As she neared the end of the set, however, Emma was recalled to
anxiety. Elizabeth on passing whispered to her:
“Where is Margaret? I cannot see her.”
Emma gazed around, when the opportunity offered, without success, and
then, just before the two dances ended, saw Margaret enter with Tom
Musgrave, saw them sit down together, and noticed that while Margaret
talked on, Tom Musgrave seemed always silent.
The dance being over, Emma sought Elizabeth.
“Can you not induce Margaret to join us, and sit with Mrs Blake?” she
hazarded. “Do you not think that she has sat with Mr Musgrave too long?”
Elizabeth looked surprised.
“I do not know. I had not thought of it, but I am sure that you know
best. I will try and persuade her.”
Margaret, on this occasion, was ready to do as desired, and they found
chairs by Mrs Blake, who was chatting with Miss Carr.
Presently Emma saw Mr Howard coming towards their party. He was delayed
by one of the officers, but was again on his way to herself, their eyes
met and then--he hesitated, turned aside, and it was Lord Osborne who
was addressing her.
“I want to show you something of interest in the hall, Miss Emma.”
Emma replied that they would be happy to accompany him, and looked at
Elizabeth.
“No, no,” said he, “I want you to be the first to see it, and then the
whole room may come.”
Emma still kept her seat, but Elizabeth said in a low voice:
“You cannot refuse, Emma.”
She rose, and they made their way out to the hall, and then stood
silent. Emma was much annoyed and, gaining confidence as she spoke,
asked:
“Is it the name of the object of interest, or the direction in which it
lies, which your lordship has forgotten?”
“Do not be so hard,” he replied, “you are usually so good-natured. I
want to speak to you.”
He said no more, and it was Emma who broke the silence.
“As there is nothing to be viewed,” she said, with the directness and
sweetness of manner which Lord Osborne described as good-natured,
“perhaps we had better return to Mrs Blake’s party, and you can talk to
me there.”
Lord Osborne appeared much agitated. “Can you not see that I have
something to say?”
Emma grew desperate.
“If you have something to say, say it, my lord.”
“Let us sit down,” he replied. “I shall talk better sitting down.”
“Then pray let us return to Mrs Blake,” said Emma again, “and find
seats by her.”
She turned towards the ball-room. Lord Osborne was now to make the most
serious effort of his twenty-one years.
“Miss Emma,” he said, “will you--will you be so good-natured as to be
my wife?”
Emma’s surprise was great, so great that she would have found it
impossible to make any immediate reply. The door behind Lord Osborne
opened and Lady Osborne sailed out. She took no notice of Emma, but, as
she passed her son, she commanded.
“Find Howard for me,” and crossing the hall entered her private
apartment. Lord Osborne, however, remained looking at Emma, whose
thoughts were now sufficiently clear to make a courteous reply possible.
“I am conscious of the honour you do me, my lord, and trust I do not
pain you, but what you ask is impossible to me.”
A slight curtsy, and she turned away, leaving the young man red-faced
and embarrassed, to swallow his disappointment, and to forget his
mother’s commission. Emma had now but one thought, to return home with
all possible despatch. She returned to the ball-room, excused herself
to Mrs Blake on the grounds of fatigue, left a message to reassure
Elizabeth, and hurrying up the great staircase, gained her own
apartment, and re-packed her belongings, determined to get away from
the Castle that night by returning in the chaise with her sisters.
Without doubt, Lord Osborne’s proposal had brought about this decision,
and yet the words of Lady Osborne, and her preoccupied manner, seemed
to Emma to be the cause of her own extreme longing for home and quiet.
Lady Osborne had indeed spoken as if Mr Howard must necessarily be at
her side, and the strangeness and restraint of Mr Howard’s own manner
were perhaps to be explained by the same cause. Was it possible that
Sir William Gordon was correct, and that Lady Osborne was to marry Mr
Howard?
Emma debated whether she should seek out Lady Osborne to make her
apologies, and explain the necessity for her returning home. She tried
to arrange some words of explanation, but it was not to be done. She
could not speak of Lord Osborne’s offer, and was aware that to Lady
Osborne her refusal of it would appear incredible. She decided to leave
without explanation, and writing a few formal words of apology, stating
that she was obliged to return home, but giving no reason, she folded
it into a note, and resolved to hand it to a servant at the moment of
her departure, with the request that it might be given to Lady Osborne.
She would remain upstairs, creep down at the last moment, whisper an
explanation to Elizabeth, and at last be safe in the chaise, perhaps
altogether unperceived. At length a change in the music informed her
that the last dance had begun. It seemed endless, and gazing round the
elegantly furnished apartment, she was driven to the consideration of
what her situation would have been had her answer to Lord Osborne been
different. These thoughts were a relief from the agony of her former
ones, and she strove to keep her mind fixed on these less agitating
ideas, as she feared that longer dwelling on the possible situation of
Lady Osborne and Mr Howard would weaken her self-control, and make it
impossible for her to carry out her plan with dignity.
At last the music ceased with a flourish, and then she heard voices in
the hall, and going down to the head of the lowest flight of stairs,
she awaited her opportunity.
She saw her sisters in their wraps and heard Elizabeth say.
“I must see Emma before we leave.”
In a moment Emma was by her side, and had hurriedly announced her plan.
Elizabeth showed much surprise, but Emma only repeated that she must go
home. There was further delay before Margaret could be convinced that
she might not remain instead, but at length they were in the chaise,
the door was shut, the horses started, and Emma sat in the darkness
holding Elizabeth by the hand.