The day following proved fine, and, on being applied to, Mrs Edwards
sanctioned a short walk for Emma in the sunshine.
“We will go to Mr Brown’s,” said Mary, “and choose two books. I know
you are a great reader.”
Mary had no household duties to occupy her time, and not much gaiety;
her father and mother were active, and fully engaged in their own
pursuits; she had, moreover, attended an excellent school. Her mind
was therefore both open and at leisure, and she had occupied much of
her time in reading. Emma found they had read many of the same books,
and with similar feelings, and they now interchanged opinions with a
happy unanimity which was particularly soothing to Emma, whose mind had
been starved by the inanities and wearied by the stupidities of the
household at Croydon.
They had gone some little distance down the street, when Emma noticed
Mr Howard approaching, but on the opposite pavement. He paused, raised
his hat, and seemed to meditate crossing the street, and Emma was
preparing to greet him as if unaware of his neglect, when Mr Ackroyd
emerged from a shop behind them, and claimed their immediate attention.
Emma, glancing round, saw only Mr Howard’s back, and that he walked
very fast.
The double encounter interrupted the conversation of the two young
ladies, and they reached the stationer’s in silence. Books were
selected, and a further two minutes’ walk took them past Mr Tomlinson’s
and out into the country.
“_We_ all like Mr Howard. He is usually very civil, though I confess to
you that I find his talk a little high and dry,” remarked Mary.
Emma replied that Mr Howard had, in her opinion many good qualities,
and that he could certainly be very pleasant on occasions.
Mary was silent, whilst Emma paused at a gate to admire the prospect,
and then said with hesitation:
“I trust I run no risk of paining you; those who have been sickly
should never be plagued, but I have heard it said that you treated Mr
Howard ill.”
“I treat Mr Howard ill!” was all the rejoinder, “_I_ treat Mr Howard
ill?”
Mary took fright.
“Now you will be made ill again. I will not say another word. I was
wrong to talk so at all.”
This was more than Emma could bear.
“Having repeated to me part of what has been said, you will best
relieve my mind by telling me the whole.”
Mary was very willing to continue the subject, though fearful of some
ill effects, but the wishes proved stronger than the fears.
“It was said that Mr Howard paid you much attention and,--but you must
not force me to repeat all that was said. I do not believe it to be at
all true; you would not behave so; you are so different from--you would
not be unfeeling.”
Emma was agitated, and anxious, and growing desperate. She stood still,
faced Mary, and said:
“I shall stand here until you tell me the whole, and I think it is
turning a little cold.”
Thus encouraged, Mary proceeded.
“They said that Lord Osborne would not speak to any one but you at the
ball at the Castle--and they said, too, that you were jealous of Lady
Osborne.”
Emma interrupted.
“I am not in the least partial to Lord Osborne, but, if I were, I
should not wish him to be less dutiful.”
“That was not how it went,” continued Mary. “You were angry because Mr
Howard--that is you were said to be angry because Mr Howard must always
sit by her--by Lady Osborne’s side.”
Emma essayed to understand what was implied by this gossip, but found
that this was not possible while Mary Edwards waited some reply. It
must all be thought over in the quiet of her own chamber, and she
therefore remarked:
“My dear Mary, you confuse me, and I hardly follow it all; but I
certainly have not treated Mr Howard ill.” Gaining confidence, she
proceeded, “I may rightly claim to have treated him with consistent
civility; on his side the attention has not been so equal. Should we
not return? Mrs Edwards was very strict about our return.”
The conversation was now on indifferent subjects, and Miss Edwards was
divided between relief that her friend was not taken ill, and the wish
that this very interesting subject might be further canvassed.
On gaining the house Emma expressed a wish to rearrange her attire,
and on reaching her apartment sat down to think. Her thoughts were
confused, but by no means disagreeable. Was Mr Howard’s interest in
her so noticeable that it was freely commented on? Was Mr Howard among
those who had observed Lord Osborne’s partiality? Was Lady Osborne
among those who had noted the attentions Mr Howard had paid her? Had
mother and son combined to instil into Mr Howard’s mind doubts and
fears, possibly even dislike for herself? She could not imagine Lady
Osborne in any sort of combined action with her son. She could not
imagine Mr Howard’s mind influenced by any one against herself, though
she could not but see that he might easily be discouraged from action
of any kind. What should be her behaviour? In what way could she best
hope to convince Mr Howard that she had not been, and never could be,
guilty of treating him ill?
There was a knock at the door, and a servant brought enquiries from Mrs
Edwards, with a recommendation that Miss Watson do not risk getting a
chill.
While hurriedly completing her toilet, Emma resolved to continue
meeting this puzzling Mr Howard with reasonable cordiality, and to do
what might be done to make clear any misunderstanding.
The wind on the two days that followed blew from the east, and there
was no mention of taking the air. Emma’s spirits were not equal,
but by no means consistently poor. Mrs Edwards and her daughter
lacked something of animation, but Mr Edwards’ regular appearance
brought a stir and some degree of diversion. The second day was to be
preferred to the first, as it brought a letter from Elizabeth which,
after enquiries and assurances, made mention of one of the customary
card-parties the night before. Emma was glad to note that Elizabeth had
without doubt been diverted beyond the ordinary.