The months that followed were, for Emma, at the best, tedious, at the
worst, hardly to be borne. Augusta, the spoiled child of a foolish
mother, gave her something of affection and much more of trouble. Mrs
Watson was ever ready to find fault. Margaret, more and more irritated
by her failure to procure a visit, or even an answer to her letters,
from Tom Musgrave, and by the waning attentions from Robert and Mrs
Watson, might always be depended upon to make matters worse. Elizabeth
only was a comfort. No one else could be trusted. Mr Howard had been
quite prepared, when opportunity offered, to make an advantageous
exchange of livings; Mr Howard, whose eyes had said more than his
lips, but who had been very well able to forget. After all, their
acquaintance had been but short. Elizabeth, Margaret and herself, were
not they all in a like case? Would it not have been more sensible to
accept Lord Osborne’s offer? _He_ could not have been so unpleasant as
Mrs Watson. Lady Osborne would not have had to mend a child’s clothing
in a bad light!
Penelope wrote to inform them of the date when she would be married,
but sent no invitation, thereby greatly incensing Mrs Watson, who
observed that, had her sisters had the sense and sisterly affection to
keep on terms with Penelope, no such slight could have been offered her.
Margaret’s turn to lament came when a long letter arrived for herself,
after the honeymoon, describing the delightful places where it had been
spent, and the glories of the bride’s new home.
Unaccustomed to such confinement to the house, and to such demands on
her strength, Emma became seriously unwell, and the apothecary gave his
opinion that she should be some days in bed and, when able to rise,
should not exert herself for a further period.
On the second day of her confinement to her room, a letter was received
from Mrs Edwards, inviting Elizabeth and Emma to visit them for a few
weeks immediately after Easter.
Never was a more opportune invitation, and Elizabeth hastened to her
sister Jane with the letter in her hand. Mrs Robert, however, was in no
hurry to consent, but on reflection decided that she _might_ be able
to spare Emma, if Elizabeth would remain and attend to Augusta during
Emma’s absence. Elizabeth accordingly penned the following reply:
CROYDON,
_Wednesday, 30th March, 1808_.
DEAR MRS EDWARDS--Your letter came to hand this afternoon. I hasten
to reply to your generous invitation and kind enquiry. We do very
well, I thank you, and all enjoy good health excepting Emma. It is
on her account that I receive your communication with a particular
relief; that is, if you find yourself able to receive one but just
risen from a bed of sickness. Emma has had to keep her bed since
Monday, but is now much recovered, though not yet from her room. Sam,
who is come to visit us for Easter, recommends a change of air, which
I am totally unable to provide, and therefore, dear Mrs Edwards, your
letter is most opportune, if it can be managed. Please excuse this
short and hurried letter, but I fear the risk of any delay. Yours
affectionately,
ELIZABETH WATSON.
P.S.--For myself, I must regretfully decline your goodness, being
needed by Mrs Watson.
This letter was delivered as the Edwards family finished their dinner
the following day and, having been read, and then read aloud by Mrs
Edwards, was then to be commented on by Mr Edwards and Mary.
Mr Edwards had nothing to say beyond expressing his sympathy with
the Miss Watsons on general grounds, but whether he considered them
most to be pitied for being needed by Mrs Watson, or being in a bed
of sickness, or for having lost their father, he did not think it
necessary to specify. Miss Edwards was grieved that Emma was ill, and
hoped that she might be allowed to come to them. Mrs Edwards’ sympathy
was chiefly with the elder sister.
“And why is Elizabeth not to come with her sister, indeed? And likely
needing a change after the nursing. I will be bound it has all fallen
on her. I never had any opinion of Mrs Robert.”
Mary interposed with:
“But Emma may come, may she not, Mama?”
Mrs Edwards reminded her that there would be much to arrange. How was
Emma to travel? And with whom? She certainly would not invite Margaret,
of whom she appeared to have no better opinion than of Mrs Robert.
Even if they sent their carriage all the way, it would still hardly be
possible for Emma to travel without escort, and she could not spare a
servant. Mary, with some diffidence, mentioned Sam.
This was unwelcome to both her parents at first; but at last Mr
Edwards’ good-nature triumphed over all difficulties. The carriage was
to be sent, and Sam invited to escort his sister. “He must get on to
Guildford as best he can,” added Mr Edwards.
So it happened that on Saturday morning, Elizabeth received a
despatch which gladdened her heart, and Sam one which gladdened and
disturbed his. Emma was also disturbed on finding that she could be
so ungrateful. She was pleased because Elizabeth was glad, but the
world was a very dull place, and she anticipated very little pleasure
in removing to another part of it. She brightened when she understood
that Sam was to escort her; he was invariably kind, and there had been
but few opportunities of seeing him; for Mrs Robert was resolved on
patronage, and he resolved that it should not be so. Easter Sunday came
and went, and on Monday morning Sam and the carriage were at the door.
Elizabeth’s regrets at the parting with her sister, and being left
behind, were overborne by the knowledge of the benefit and ease which
would be Emma’s. Mrs Robert was divided between relief at being quit of
an invalid, and annoyance on seeing Emma depart in so important a style.
It was very pleasant to Emma to drive out of Croydon. A lengthy period
of waiting on and appeasing a spoilt child, without change of scene or
company, followed by days when she was confined to her room, when Mrs
Robert’s habit of finding fault had given place to a general air of
dissatisfaction towards the invalid, had left her in a state of mind
very ready to be pleased. Each turn of the road and changing view,
each remark made by Sam, was a small adventure. Emma’s sympathy soon
called forth Sam’s confidence, and what would a lover confide but his
affection? Emma gave her brother every encouragement at first, and
then, calling to mind the officers surrounding Miss Edwards at the
ball, and the ten thousand pounds which was said to be her fortune,
felt bound to recommend caution in the entertainment of his hopes.
“But Emma,” he protested, “if I am not to hope, what is the good of
it all? I have always loved her, and she only met Captain Hunter last
winter.”
Emma warned him that he must not rely too much on his position as an
old friend.
“I do not see why. Just observe this. At Guildford it is Mr Curtis
they have faith in. They argue with me: they say--‘Mr _Curtis_ always
recommended this or that’--just because he is the old apothecary, they
believe in him and trust him. Now why should it be different at D----?
Why should not Mary Edwards trust me? I would trust her with the whole
world.”
“I fear, Sam, that ladies do not always marry those in whom they have
most confidence.”
This called forth a great sigh from Sam.
“Then she will marry a red-coat; they have nothing to do but wait on
her, and make fine speeches.”
Emma found herself again giving encouragement, which again must be
discounted, when he began to make plans for a happy future.
With so much to talk of, the hours passed rapidly, and almost before
they had begun to wish for the end of the journey, the carriage drew up
at the door of Mrs Edwards’ house.
There occurred a short delay, as Emma found that she needed Sam’s
support to mount the steps to the door, where she was taken in hand
by Mrs Edwards and her daughter, the former saying to Sam with some
severity:
“I trust you have been careful of Miss Emma.”
Whether Mrs Edwards regretted these words, or whether it was simply
Sam’s smile, can only be conjectured, but when they all met again in
the parlour, Mrs Edward’s first words were:
“It will be too far for you to walk to Guildford so late in the day, Mr
Samuel. It were better for you to sleep here; Mr Edwards will give you
a letter of explanation to Mr Curtis.”