Emma had seen the Edwards only one morning at Stanton; they were
therefore all but strangers to her, and though her spirits were by
no means insensible to the expected joys of the evening, she felt a
little uncomfortable in the thought of all that was to precede them.
Her conversation with Elizabeth, too, giving her some very unpleasant
feelings with respect to her own family, had made her more open to
disagreeable impressions from any other cause, and increased her
sense of the awkwardness of rushing into intimacy on so slight an
acquaintance.
There was nothing in the manner of Mrs. and Miss Edwards to give
immediate change to these ideas. The mother, though a very friendly
woman, had a reserved air and a great deal of formal civility; and
the daughter, a genteel-looking girl of twenty-two, with her hair in
papers, seemed very naturally to have caught something of the style
of her mother, who had brought her up. Emma was soon left to know what
they could be, by Elizabeth being obliged to hurry away; and some very
languid remarks on the probable brilliancy of the ball were all that
broke, at intervals, a silence of half-an-hour before they were joined
by the master of the house. Mr. Edwards had a much easier and more
communicative air than the ladies of the family; he was fresh from the
street, and he came ready to tell whatever might interest. After a
cordial reception of Emma, he turned to his daughter with--
"Well, Mary, I bring you good news: the Osbornes will certainly be at
the ball to-night. Horses for two carriages are ordered from the 'White
Hart' to be at Osborne Castle by nine."
"I am glad of it," observed Mrs. Edwards, "because their coming gives
a credit to our assembly. The Osbornes being known to have been at the
first ball, will dispose a great many people to attend the second.
It is more than they deserve, for, in fact, they add nothing to the
pleasure of the evening; they come so late and go so early; but great
people have always their charm."
Mr. Edwards proceeded to relate many other little articles of news
which his morning's lounge had supplied him with, and they chatted with
greater briskness till Mrs. Edwards' moment for dressing arrived, and
the young ladies were carefully recommended to lose no time. Emma was
shown to a very comfortable apartment, and as soon as Mrs. Edwards'
civilities could leave her to herself, the happy occupation, the first
bliss of a ball, began. The girls, dressing in some measure together,
grew unavoidably better acquainted. Emma found in Miss Edwards the
show of good sense, a modest unpretending mind, and a great wish of
obliging; and when they returned to the parlour where Mrs. Edwards was
sitting, respectably attired in one of the two satin gowns which went
through the winter, and a new cap from the milliner's, they entered it
with much easier feelings and more natural smiles than they had taken
away. Their dress was now to be examined: Mrs. Edwards acknowledged
herself too old-fashioned to approve of every modern extravagance,
however sanctioned; and though complacently viewing her daughter's good
looks, would give but a qualified admiration; and Mr. Edwards, not less
satisfied with Mary, paid some compliments of good-humoured gallantry
to Emma at her expense.
The discussion led to more intimate remarks, and Miss Edwards gently
asked Emma if she was not often reckoned very like her youngest
brother. Emma thought she could perceive a faint blush accompany the
question, and there seemed something still more suspicious in the
manner in which Mr. Edwards took up the subject.
"You are paying Miss Emma no great compliment, I think, Mary," said
he hastily. "Mr. Sam Watson is a very good sort of young man, and I
daresay a very clever surgeon; but his complexion has been rather
too much exposed to all weathers to make a likeness to him very
flattering."
Mary apologised, in some confusion--
"She had not thought a strong likeness at all incompatible with very
different degrees of beauty. There might be resemblance in countenance,
and the complexion, and even the features, be very unlike."
"I know nothing of my brother's beauty," said Emma, "for I have not
seen him since he was seven years old; but my father reckons us alike."
"Mr. Watson!" cried Mr. Edwards, "well, you astonish me. There is not
the least likeness in the world; your brother's eyes are grey, yours
are brown; he has a long face, and a wide mouth. My dear, do _you_
perceive the least resemblance?"
"Not the least; Miss Emma Watson puts me very much in mind of her
eldest sister, and sometimes I see a look of Miss Penelope, and once or
twice there has been a glance of Mr. Robert; but I cannot perceive any
likeness to Mr. Samuel."
"I see the likeness between her and Miss Watson," replied Mr. Edwards,
"very strongly, but I am not sensible of the others. I do not much
think she is like any of the family _but_ Miss Watson; but I am very
sure there is no resemblance between her and Sam."
This matter was settled, and they went to dinner.
"Your father, Miss Emma, is one of my oldest friends," said Mr.
Edwards, as he helped her to wine, when they were drawn round the fire
to enjoy their dessert. "We must drink to his better health. It is a
great concern to me, I assure you, that he should be such an invalid.
I know nobody who likes a game of cards, in a social way, better than
he does, and very few people who play a fairer rubber. It is a thousand
pities that he should be so deprived of the pleasure. For now, we have
a quiet little whist club, that meets three times a week at the 'White
Hart'; and if he could but have his health, how much he would enjoy it!"
"I daresay he would, sir; and I wish, with all my heart, he were equal
to it."
"Your club would be better fitted for an invalid," said Mrs. Edwards,
"if you did not keep it up so late." This was an old grievance.
"So late, my dear! What are you talking of?" cried her husband with
sturdy pleasantry. "We are always at home before midnight. They would
laugh at Osborne Castle to hear you call _that_ late. They are but just
rising from dinner at midnight."
"That is nothing to the purpose," retorted the lady calmly. "The
Osbornes are to be no rule for us. You had better meet every night and
break up two hours sooner."
So far the subject was very often carried; but Mr. and Mrs. Edwards
were so wise as never to pass that point; and Mr. Edwards now turned to
something else. He had lived long enough in the idleness of a town to
become a little of a gossip, and having some anxiety to know more of
the circumstances of his young guest than had yet reached him, he began
with--
"I think, Miss Emma, I remember your aunt very well, about thirty years
ago; I am pretty sure I danced with her in the old rooms at Bath the
year before I married. She was a very fine woman then, but like other
people, I suppose, she is grown somewhat older since that time. I hope
she is likely to be happy in her second choice."
"I hope so; I believe so, sir," said Emma, in some agitation.
"Mr. Turner had not been dead a great while, I think?"
"About two years, sir."
"I forget what her name is now."
"O'Brien."
"Irish! Ah, I remember; and she is gone to settle in Ireland. I do not
wonder that you should not wish to go with her into _that_ country,
Miss Emma; but it must be a great deprivation to her, poor lady! after
bringing you up like a child of her own."
"I was not so ungrateful, sir," said Emma, warmly, "as to wish to be
anywhere but with her. It did not suit Captain O'Brien that I should be
of the party."
"Captain!" repeated Mrs. Edwards. "The gentleman is in the army, then?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Aye, there is nothing like your officers for captivating the ladies,
young or old. There is no resisting a cockade, my dear."
"I hope there is," said Mrs. Edwards gravely, with a quick glance at
her daughter; and Emma had just recovered from her own perturbation in
time to see a blush on Miss Edwards' cheek; and, in remembering what
Elizabeth had said of Captain Hunter, to wonder and waver between his
influence and her brother's.
"Elderly ladies should be careful how they make a second choice,"
observed Mr. Edwards.
"Carefulness and discretion should not be confined to elderly ladies,
or to a second choice," added his wife. "They are quite as necessary to
young ladies in their first."
"Rather more so, my dear," replied he; "because young ladies are likely
to feel the effects of it longer. When an old lady plays the fool, it
is not in the course of nature that she should suffer from it many
years."
Emma drew her hand across her eyes; and Mrs. Edwards, in perceiving
it, changed the subject to one of less anxiety to all.
With nothing to do but to expect the hour of setting off, the afternoon
was long to the two young ladies; and though Miss Edwards was rather
discomposed at the very early hour which her mother always fixed for
going, that early hour itself was watched for with some eagerness.
The entrance of the tea-things at seven o'clock was some relief; and,
luckily, Mr. and Mrs. Edwards always drank a dish extraordinary and
ate an additional muffin when they were going to sit up late, which
lengthened the ceremony almost to the wished-for moment.
At a little before eight o'clock the Tomlinsons' carriage was heard to
go by, which was the constant signal for Mrs. Edwards to order hers
to the door; and in a very few minutes the party were transported
from the quiet and warmth of a snug parlour to the bustle, noise, and
draughts of air of a broad entrance passage of an inn. Mrs. Edwards,
carefully guarding her own dress, while she attended to the proper
security of her young charges' shoulders and throats, led the way up
the wide staircase, while no sound of a ball, but the first scrape
of one violin, blessed the ears of her followers; and Miss Edwards,
on hazarding the anxious enquiry of whether there were many people
come yet, was told by the waiter, as she knew she should be, that Mr.
Tomlinson's family were in the room.
In passing along a short gallery to the assembly room, brilliant in
lights before them, they were accosted by a young man in a morning
dress and boots, who was standing in the doorway of a bedchamber
apparently on purpose to see them go by.
"Ah! Mrs. Edwards, how do you do? How do you do, Miss Edwards?" he
cried, with an easy air. "You are determined to be in good time, I see,
as usual. The candles are but this moment lit."
"I like to get a good seat by the fire, you know, Mr. Musgrave,"
replied Mrs. Edwards.
"I am this moment going to dress," said he. "I am waiting for my
stupid fellow. We shall have a famous ball. The Osbornes are certainly
coming; you may depend upon _that_, for I was with Lord Osborne this
morning."
The party passed on. Mrs. Edwards' satin gown swept along the clean
floor of the ball-room to the fireplace at the upper end, where one
party only were formally seated, while three or four officers were
lounging together, passing in and out from the adjoining card-room. A
very stiff meeting between these near neighbours ensued, and as soon as
they were all duly placed again, Emma, in a low whisper, which became
the solemn scene, said to Miss Edwards--
"The gentleman we passed in the passage was Mr. Musgrave, then; he is
reckoned remarkably agreeable, I understand?"
Miss Edwards answered hesitatingly: "Yes, he is very much liked by many
people; but we are not very intimate."
"He is rich, is not he?"
"He has about eight or nine hundred a year, I believe. He came into
possession of it when he was very young, and my father and mother think
it has given him rather an unsettled turn. He is no favourite with
them."
The cold and empty appearance of the room, and the demure air of the
small cluster of females at one end of it, began soon to give way.
The inspiriting sound of other carriages was heard, and continual
accessions of portly chaperones, and strings of smartly dressed girls,
were received, with now and then a fresh gentleman straggler, who, if
not enough in love to station himself near any fair creature, seemed
glad to escape into the card-room.
Among the increasing number of military men, one now made his way to
Miss Edwards with an air of _empressement_ which decidedly said to her
companion: "I am Captain Hunter"; and Emma, who could not but watch her
at such a moment, saw her looking rather distressed, but by no means
displeased, and heard an engagement formed for the two first dances,
which made her think her brother Sam's a hopeless case.
Emma, in the meanwhile, was not unobserved or unadmired herself. A
new face, and a very pretty one, could not be slighted. Her name was
whispered from one party to another, and no sooner had the signal been
given by the orchestra's striking up a favourite air, which seemed to
call the young to their duty, and people the centre of the room, than
she found herself engaged to dance with a brother officer, introduced
by Captain Hunter.
Emma Watson was not more than of the middle height, well made and
plump, with an air of healthy vigour. Her skin was very brown, but
clear, smooth, and glowing; which, with a lively eye, a sweet smile,
and an open countenance, gave beauty to attract, and expression to
make that beauty improve on acquaintance. Having no reason to be
dissatisfied with her partner, the evening began very pleasantly
to her, and her feelings perfectly coincided with the reiterated
observation of others, that it was an excellent ball. The two first
dances were not quite over when the returning sound of carriages, after
a long interruption, called general notice--"the Osbornes are coming!"
was repeated round the room. After some minutes of extraordinary
bustle without, and watchful curiosity within, the important party,
preceded by the attentive master of the inn to open a door which was
never shut, made their appearance. They consisted of Lady Osborne;
her son, Lord Osborne; her daughter, Miss Osborne; Miss Carr, her
daughter's friend; Mr. Howard, formerly tutor to Lord Osborne, now
clergyman of the parish in which the castle stood; Mrs. Blake, a widow
sister, who lived with him; her son, a fine boy of ten years old; and
Mr. Tom Musgrave, who probably, imprisoned within his own room, had
been listening in bitter impatience to the sound of music for the last
half-hour. In their progress up the room they paused almost immediately
behind Emma to receive the compliments of some acquaintance, and she
heard Lady Osborne observe that they had made a point of coming early
for the gratification of Mrs. Blake's little boy, who was uncommonly
fond of dancing. Emma looked at them all as they passed, but chiefly
and with most interest on Tom Musgrave, who was certainly a genteel,
good-looking young man. Of the females, Lady Osborne had by much the
finest person; though nearly fifty, she was very handsome, and had all
the dignity of rank.
Lord Osborne was a very fine young man; but there was an air of
coldness, of carelessness, even of awkwardness about him, which seemed
to speak him out of his element in a ball-room. He came, in fact, only
because it was judged expedient for him to please the borough; he was
not fond of women's company, and he never danced. Mr. Howard was an
agreeable-looking man, a little more than thirty.
At the conclusion of the two dances, Emma found herself, she knew not
how, seated amongst the Osbornes' set; and she was immediately struck
with the fine countenance and animated gestures of the little boy, as
he was standing before his mother, considering when they should begin.
"You will not be surprised at Charles's impatience," said Mrs. Blake, a
lively, pleasant-looking little woman of five- or six-and-thirty, to a
lady who was standing near her, "when you know what a partner he is to
have. Miss Osborne has been so very kind as to promise to dance the two
first dances with him."
"Oh, yes! we have been engaged this week," cried the boy, "and we are
to dance down every couple."
On the other side of Emma, Miss Osborne, Miss Carr, and a party of
young men were standing engaged in a very lively consultation; and soon
afterwards she saw the smartest officer of the set walking off to the
orchestra to order the dance, while Miss Osborne, passing before her
to her little expecting partner, hastily said: "Charles, I beg your
pardon for not keeping my engagement, but I am going to dance these
two dances with Colonel Beresford. I know you will excuse me, and I
will certainly dance with you after tea"; and without staying for an
answer, she turned again to Miss Carr, and in another minute was led
by Colonel Beresford to begin the set. If the poor little boy's face
had in its happiness been interesting to Emma, it was infinitely more
so under this sudden reverse; he stood the picture of disappointment
with crimsoned cheeks, quivering lips, and eyes bent on the floor. His
mother, stifling her own mortification, tried to soothe him with the
prospect of Miss Osborne's second promise; but, though he contrived to
utter with an effort of boyish bravery, "Oh, I do not mind it!" it was
very evident by the unceasing agitation of his features that he minded
it as much as ever.
Emma did not think or reflect; she felt and acted. "I shall be very
happy to dance with you, sir, if you like it," said she, holding out
her hand with the most unaffected good-humour. The boy, in one moment
restored to all his first delight, looked joyfully at his mother;
and stepping forwards with an honest, simple "Thank you, ma'am," was
instantly ready to attend his new acquaintance. The thankfulness of
Mrs. Blake was more diffuse; with a look most expressive of unexpected
pleasure and lively gratitude, she turned to her neighbour with
repeated and fervent acknowledgments of so great and condescending
a kindness to her boy. Emma, with perfect truth, assured her that
she could not be giving greater pleasure than she felt herself; and
Charles, being provided with his gloves and charged to keep them on,
they joined the set which was now rapidly forming, with nearly equal
complacency. It was a partnership which could not be noticed without
surprise. It gained her a broad stare from Miss Osborne and Miss Carr,
as they passed her in the dance. "Upon my word, Charles, you are in
luck," said the former, as she turned him; "you have got a better
partner than me"; to which the happy Charles answered "Yes."
Tom Musgrave, who was dancing with Miss Carr, gave her many inquisitive
glances; and after a time Lord Osborne himself came, and under pretence
of talking to Charles, stood to look at his partner. Though rather
distressed by such observation, Emma could not repent what she had
done, so happy had it made both the boy and his mother; the latter of
whom was continually making opportunities of addressing her with the
warmest civility. Her little partner she found, though bent chiefly on
dancing, was not unwilling to speak, when her questions or remarks gave
him anything to say; and she learnt, by a sort of inevitable enquiry,
that he had two brothers and a sister, that they and their mamma all
lived with his uncle at Wickstead, that his uncle taught him Latin,
that he was very fond of riding, and had a horse of his own given
him by Lord Osborne; and that he had been out once already with Lord
Osborne's hounds.
At the end of these dances, Emma found they were to drink tea; Miss
Edwards gave her a caution to be at hand, in a manner which convinced
her of Mrs. Edwards' holding it very important to have them both close
to her when she moved into the tea-room; and Emma was accordingly on
the alert to gain her proper station.
It was always the pleasure of the company to have a little bustle and
crowd when they adjourned for refreshment. The tea-room was a small
room within the card-room; and in passing through the latter, where the
passage was straitened by tables, Mrs. Edwards and her party were for
a few moments hemmed in. It happened close by Lady Osborne's casino
table; Mr. Howard, who belonged to it, spoke to his nephew; and Emma,
on perceiving herself the object of attention both to Lady Osborne and
him, had just turned away her eyes in time to avoid seeming to hear her
young companion exclaim delightedly aloud: "Oh, uncle! do look at my
partner, she is so pretty!" As they were immediately in motion again,
however, Charles was hurried off without being able to receive his
uncle's suffrage. On entering the tea-room, in which two long tables
were prepared, Lord Osborne was to be seen quite alone at the end of
one, as if retreating as far as he could from the ball, to enjoy his
own thoughts and gape without restraint. Charles instantly pointed him
out to Emma. "There's Lord Osborne; let you and I go and sit by him."
"No, no," said Emma laughing, "you must sit with my friends."
Charles was now free enough to hazard a few questions in his turn.
"What o'clock was it?"
"Eleven."
"Eleven! and I am not at all sleepy. Mamma said I should be asleep
before ten. Do you think Miss Osborne will keep her word with me when
tea is over?"
"Oh, yes; I suppose so," though she felt that she had no better reason
to give than that Miss Osborne had _not_ kept it before.
"When shall you come to Osborne Castle?"
"Never, probably. I am not acquainted with the family."
"But you may come to Wickstead and see mamma, and she can take you
to the castle. There is a monstrous curious stuffed fox there, and a
badger; anybody would think they were alive. It is a pity you should
not see them."
On rising from tea there was again a scramble for the pleasure of
being first out of the room, which happened to be increased by one or
two of the card-parties having just broken up, and the players being
disposed to move exactly the different way. Among these was Mr. Howard,
his sister leaning on his arm; and no sooner were they within reach of
Emma, than Mrs. Blake, calling her notice by a friendly touch, said:
"Your goodness to Charles, my dear Miss Watson, brings all his family
upon you. Give me leave to introduce my brother." Emma curtsied, the
gentleman bowed, made a hasty request for the honour of her hand in
the two next dances, to which as hasty an affirmative was given, and
they were immediately impelled in opposite directions. Emma was very
well pleased with the circumstance; there was a quietly cheerful,
gentlemanlike air in Mr. Howard, which suited her; and in a few minutes
afterwards the value of her engagement increased when, as she was
sitting in the card-room, somewhat screened by a door, she heard Lord
Osborne, who was lounging on a vacant table near her, call Tom Musgrave
towards him and say: "Why do not you dance with that beautiful Emma
Watson? I want you to dance with her, and I will come and stand by you."
"I was determined on it this very moment, my lord; I'll be introduced
and dance with her directly."
"Aye, do; and if you find she does not want much talking to, you may
introduce me by-and-by."
"Very well, my lord; if she is like her sisters, she will only want
to be listened to. I will go this moment. I shall find her in the
tea-room. That stiff old Mrs. Edwards has never done tea."
Away he went, Lord Osborne after him; and Emma lost no time in hurrying
from her corner exactly the other way, forgetting in her haste that she
left Mrs. Edwards behind.
"We had quite lost you," said Mrs. Edwards, who followed in less than
five minutes. "If you prefer this room to the other, there is no reason
why you should not be here; but we had better all be together."
Emma was saved the trouble of apologising, by their being joined at
the moment by Tom Musgrave, who, requesting Mrs. Edwards aloud to do
him the honour of presenting him to Miss Emma Watson, left that good
lady without any choice in the business, but that of testifying by
the coldness of her manner that she did it unwillingly. The honour of
dancing with her was solicited without loss of time; and Emma, however
she might like to be thought a beautiful girl by lord or commoner,
was so little disposed to favour Tom Musgrave himself, that she had
considerable satisfaction in avowing her previous engagement. He was
evidently surprised and discomposed. The style of her last partner had
probably led him to believe her not overpowered with applications.
"My little friend, Charles Blake," he cried, "must not expect to
engross you the whole evening. We can never suffer this. It is against
the rules of the assembly, and I am sure it will never be patronised by
our good friend here, Mrs. Edwards; she is by much too nice a judge of
decorum to give her licence to such a dangerous particularity----"
"I am not going to dance with Master Blake, sir!"
The gentleman, a little disconcerted, could only hope he might be
fortunate another time; and seeming unwilling to leave her, though his
friend, Lord Osborne, was waiting in the doorway for the result, as
Emma with some amusement perceived, he began to make civil enquiries
after her family.
"How comes it that we have not the pleasure of seeing your sisters here
this evening? Our assemblies have been used to be so well treated by
them that we do not know how to take this neglect."
"My eldest sister is the only one at home, and she could not leave my
father."
"Miss Watson the only one at home! You astonish me! It seems but the
day before yesterday that I saw them all three in the town. But I
am afraid I have been a very sad neighbour of late. I hear dreadful
complaints of my negligence wherever I go, and I confess it is a
shameful length of time since I was at Stanton. But I shall _now_
endeavour to make myself amends for the past."
Emma's calm curtsey in reply must have struck him as very unlike the
encouraging warmth he had been used to receive from her sisters; and
gave him probably the novel sensation of doubting his own influence,
and of wishing for more attention than she bestowed. The dancing
now recommenced. Miss Carr being impatient to _call_, everybody was
required to stand up; and Tom Musgrave's curiosity was appeased on
seeing Mr. Howard come forward and claim Emma's hand.
"That will do as well for me," was Lord Osborne's remark, when his
friend carried him the news, and he was continually at Howard's elbow
during the two dances.
The frequency of his appearance there was the only unpleasant part of
the engagement, the only objection she could make to Mr. Howard. In
himself, she thought him as agreeable as he looked; though chatting on
the commonest topics, he had a sensible, unaffected way of expressing
himself, which made whatever he said worth hearing, and she only
regretted that he had not been able to make his pupil's manners as
unexceptionable as his own. The two dances seemed very short, and
she had her partner's authority for considering them so. At their
conclusion, the Osbornes and their train were all on the move.
"We are off at last," said his lordship to Tom. "How much longer do you
stay in this heavenly place?--till sunrise?"
"No, faith! my lord; I have had quite enough of it, I assure you.
I shall not show myself here again when I have had the honour of
attending Lady Osborne to her carriage. I shall retreat in as much
secrecy as possible to the most remote corner of the house, where I
shall order a barrel of oysters, and be famously snug."
"Let me see you soon at the castle, and bring me word how she looks by
daylight."
Emma and Mrs. Blake parted as old acquaintance; and Charles shook her
by the hand and wished her good-bye at least a dozen times. From Miss
Osborne and Miss Carr she received something like a jerking curtsey as
they passed her; even Lady Osborne gave her a look of complacency, and
his lordship actually came back after the others were out of the room,
to "beg her pardon," and look in the window-seat behind her for the
gloves which were visibly compressed in his hand. As Tom Musgrave was
seen no more, we may suppose his plan to have succeeded, and imagine
him mortifying with his barrel of oysters in dreary solitude, or gladly
assisting the landlady in her bar to make fresh negus for the happy
dancers above. Emma could not help missing the party by whom she had
been, though in some respects unpleasantly, distinguished; and the
two dances which followed and concluded the ball were rather flat in
comparison with the others. Mr. Edwards having played with good luck,
they were some of the last in the room.
"Here we are back again, I declare," said Emma sorrowfully, as she
walked into the dining-room, where the table was prepared, and the neat
upper maid was lighting the candles.
"My dear Miss Edwards, how soon it is at an end! I wish it could all
come over again."
A great deal of kind pleasure was expressed in her having enjoyed the
evening so much; and Mr. Edwards was as warm as herself in the praise
of the fulness, brilliancy, and spirit of the meeting; though as he had
been fixed the whole time at the same table in the same room, with only
one change of chairs, it might have seemed a matter scarcely perceived;
but he had won four rubbers out of five, and everything went well. His
daughter felt the advantage of this gratified state of mind in the
course of the remarks and retrospections which now ensued over the
welcome soup.
"How came you not to dance with either of the Mr. Tomlinsons, Mary?"
said her mother.
"I was always engaged when they asked me."
"I thought you were to have stood up with Mr. James the two last
dances; Mrs. Tomlinson told me he was gone to ask you, and I had heard
you say two minutes before that you were _not_ engaged?"
"Yes, but there was a mistake; I had misunderstood. I did not know I
was engaged. I thought it had been for the two dances after, if we
stayed so long; but Captain Hunter assured me it was for those very
two."
"So you ended with Captain Hunter, Mary, did you?" said her father.
"And whom did you begin with?"
"Captain Hunter," was repeated in a very humble tone.
"Hum! That is being constant, however. But who else did you dance with?"
"Mr. Norton and Mr. Styles."
"And who are they?"
"Mr. Norton is a cousin of Captain Hunter's."
"And who is Mr. Styles?"
"One of his particular friends."
"All in the same regiment," added Mrs. Edwards. "Mary was surrounded by
redcoats all the evening. I should have been better pleased to see her
dancing with some of our old neighbours, I confess."
"Yes, yes; we must not neglect our old neighbours. But if these
soldiers are quicker than other people in a ball-room, what are young
ladies to do?"
"I think there is no occasion for their engaging themselves so many
dances beforehand, Mr. Edwards."
"No, perhaps not; but I remember, my dear, when you and I did the same."
Mrs. Edwards said no more, and Mary breathed again. A good deal of
good-humoured pleasantry followed, and Emma went to bed in charming
spirits, her head full of Osbornes, Blakes, and Howards.