The next day Mr. Watson was taken seriously ill; and though he lingered
for some weeks, his daughters were almost completely cut off from all
social intercourse.
Towards Christmas he died.
Everything was overshadowed by the sense of loss; but Emma found that
she could be still more lonely, when, on receipt of a kind letter
from Mrs. Blake, she learned that she had taken a house in London, in
order to put Charles to school; and that Mr. Howard had been called to
Cumberland to the bedside of a relative who had had a stroke.
The Osbornes had gone abroad.
The clergyman who had been doing duty for Mr. Watson, had been
appointed to the parish; but with great consideration had begged
them not to move till the following March; so that they might have
sufficient leisure to dispose of their furniture, and to make their
arrangements.
Penelope had returned for some time, and Emma had learned to dread the
sound of her sharp voice. She and Margaret quarrelled perpetually.
There seemed never to be any peace in the house. Her ill-humour was
aggravated by her friends, the Shaws, having secured a situation for
her as assistant teacher in a private seminary; for not only was she
averse to this position, but she felt, even more keenly, that it was a
tacit acknowledgment of the fatal obduracy of the heart, she had wasted
so much time in endeavouring to subdue.
Margaret had got an engagement as companion to a delicate girl.
Emma's case was the hardest. She was to find her home with Robert and
Jane, who openly discussed her prospects of making a good match. In
vain she pleaded her desire to take a situation, like her sisters.
Robert would not hear of it. She had already received ill-treatment
enough from her family, he affirmed, and he would do his best to give
her a good chance. Even Elizabeth joined her voice to her brother's.
"You do not know what you would suffer as governess or companion. Your
beauty would be for ever making you enemies."
Emma could say no more while her brother was present, but when she
found herself alone with Elizabeth, she besought her to aid her in
getting a post where she might earn her bread independently.
"My position with Robert and Jane would not be tolerable," she pleaded.
"Do not stand in your own light, dear Emma," Elizabeth replied; "your
position would be much worse with strangers. Robert and Jane will
both be kind to you if you do not offend them. They were not too well
pleased by your refusing to go with them in October; and now that Lord
Osborne has admired you, they are all for having you. Believe me, it
will be the best thing for you."
"Anyway, I shall stay here until March."
"Yes--Robert has consented to that--and as Penelope and Margaret are
to go to their situations in February, we can have a little time in
peace to ourselves."
To Elizabeth alone did there come any prospect of happiness.
Mr. Purvis, now a widower, had been engaged by Mr. Howard to do duty
for him; and, on learning that Miss Watson was as handsome as ever,
considered it to be his duty to call as soon as circumstances permitted.
His earlier feelings for her were very soon revived, and although he
could not immediately enter into an engagement with her, on account
of his recent bereavement, it was quite evident to all that the old
relations between them would be happily restored.
In the meantime it was arranged that Elizabeth should go to his aunt as
companion.
His marriage had not been happy, which is scarcely to be wondered at,
seeing that he had entered somewhat hastily into it in order to assuage
his feelings of disappointment; and as his wife shortly afterwards
fell into ill-health, matters had been scarcely brightened by the
peevish temper of an invalid.
The more Emma saw of him, the better was she pleased with him. He was
good-looking and gentlemanlike, with unaffected manners, and a pleasant
countenance. She could not but feel confident that Elizabeth would be
happy at his side.
Towards the end of February, Mr. Howard returned, and lost no time in
riding over to Stanton. Unfortunately, however, as he drew near to the
Rectory gate, he met Tom Musgrave coming out of it, and was instantly
hailed by that gentleman.
"Upon my word, Howard, I thought you had taken root in Cumberland. Oh,
a sad break up here!--monstrous pleasant girls as ever I met! Miss
Emma is going to Croydon with her brother, and I hear is shortly to be
married to an old flame. Oh, a famous little flirt, I can assure you!"
So saying, and waving his hand, he took himself off, laughing heartily
at his own ingenuity.
In consequence therefore of this unwelcome intelligence, Mr. Howard
merely called at the door; and, ignoring Nanny's information that the
ladies were in, rode gloomily away.
Emma had watched his approach from an upper window, and blushed and
blushed again.
She was pausing before coming down, in the endeavour to quell the
beating of her heart, when to her surprise she heard the clattering of
his horse's hoofs; and, running back to the window, saw him vanishing
round the corner.
At first she was all disappointment, and did not know what to think.
Tears gathered thickly in her eyes, and fell on her black dress. But
presently she considered that he might perhaps think it right to call
at first without coming in, on account of her father's death, and that
he would come again.
But he never came again, and about a week later she was carried away to
Croydon by her brother, who had returned for her.