Lady Gordon, and her husband, learnt with sincere pleasure, that a
happy understanding had been established between Emma and her lover;
they both hinted that the disappointment to Lord Osborne would not be
lasting, and that the attachment would on the whole have done him
good. He had improved so much during its progress, had become so
sociable and civilised by his affection, that he seemed a different
person; and whilst rejoicing at the change, they trusted he would not
relapse under the effects of his want of success, but would prove
himself worthy of his place in society, and his position in the world.
As to the young man himself, he felt his disappointment most acutely,
but it did not make him more selfish than he had been. On the contrary
it seemed to give rise to a magnanimity of sentiment which could
hardly have been expected from him.
Two days after the engagement it was found he went down to see Howard
at the vicarage immediately after the post had come in. That morning
he had received an announcement of the death of the old rector before
mentioned. He now hastened to offer the living to Howard, delighted to
have it in his power thus to improve his circumstances.
"Howard," said he, "I have learnt by this letter that the living of
Carsdean is vacant. I am glad of it—as I am sure it will make you much
more comfortable. Will you accept it?"
"My dear lord," said he, with much emotion, "you are too kind to me: I
am ashamed to accept such a benefit, when I have robbed you of what
you so much desired."
"Do not speak of that," said the other, "she took her choice, and no
doubt chose wisely; I always _felt_ you were beloved, Howard, even
whilst I was fool enough to flatter myself with success: but I am not
angry either with her or you, and since I cannot make her happy
myself, I am glad I can help you to do so. This living was always
meant for you—but coming as it does just now, it gives me very great
pleasure."
"I knew you were generous," replied Howard, "and I can feel how much
satisfaction the power of obliging must confer."
"Make her happy, Howard, and when I can, I will come and see you, but
it is best at first that we should be apart. You accept my wedding
gift!"
"A noble one, like the heart which dictates it, and a welcome one
indeed since it removes the only obstacle to my marriage," replied
Howard.
"Howard, you are a lucky man; I would have given half my income to
have had the power of persuading her to accept the other half. You
know, I dare say, that she refused me?"
"No, indeed!"
"Did not Emma tell you? She _did_ refuse me, and I loved her the
better for it, for it was entirely for _your_ sake; but as I thought
you were dead then I did not take it so much to heart, because I
trusted to time and perseverance when my rival was removed."
"And when I came back and destroyed your dream, how you must have
hated me! I wonder you could shake hands as you did, and say you were
glad to see me."
"Howard," said Lord Osborne with much agitation, "if I thought you
were serious in what you say, I would never speak to you again; I
_know_ you only say it to torment me, but is that generous when you
are the winning party?"
"I beg your pardon," said Howard holding out his hand; and no more was
said on the subject.
"What a pity it is," said Emma Watson to Howard when he was joyfully
detailing to her his happy prospects, and Lord Osborne's generosity,
"what a pity it is that Lord Osborne's manners are so inferior to his
mind. With so much good feeling and generosity of sentiment, it is
unfortunate that he should have so little engaging in his appearance
and address."
"I do not think so at all, Emma, for if his manners had been such as
you admire, and calculated to set off his good qualities, you would
certainly have been lost to me."
"What abominable conceit!" cried Emma; "you really take credit to
yourself, do you, for such very captivating manners yourself, since
you think that those alone are the passports to my good opinion."
"I did not mean to say that; I trust my other good qualities are so
remarkable that you have, in their favour, overlooked any little
deficiencies which might otherwise strike you in my manners."
"Modest, truly! What is the income of the living which his lordship
presents to you?"
"About a thousand a year, I believe, and a very pretty country and
pleasant neighbourhood. I have been there, and always thought I should
like it so very much."
"I am quite sorry to leave this pretty place though," said Emma
looking at the Vicarage near which they were wandering; "I am sure the
other cannot have so pleasant a garden, nor so pleasant a little
drawing-room. Those were happy days when we were snowed up there."
They then went off into a long series of reminiscences and
explanations through which it would be useless, were it possible, to
follow them.
Emma spent one very happy week at the Castle after her engagement;
which was not the less agreeable to every one concerned because both
Lord Osborne and Miss Carr left it. He quitted his house immediately
after the conversation above recorded; and she then decided that her
visit had been long enough to such dreadfully dull people as Rosa and
her husband were become: so she took leave of her dear friends and
returned, unsuccessful, home.
At the end of a week, Mr. Howard found it necessary to go too; there
was business connected with his new living which must be attended to,
and unwillingly he tore himself away.
Mrs. Willis still continued in Wales, for though Charles was better,
and indeed daily gaining strength, the physicians had so strongly
recommended sea air for the re-establishment of his health, that his
mother had decided on spending the summer on the sea-coast there.
Howard's departure proved, however, only the prelude to Emma's return
to Croydon. Elizabeth's marriage was fast approaching, and she pressed
to see Emma again before that event. The idea of again becoming an
inmate of Robert's house was so very repulsive to Emma that she
demurred from that reason alone, and she was much more inclined to
accede to Miss Bridge's repeated invitations to return to Burton. But
this Elizabeth urged would be doing no good at all; fourteen miles
would as effectually preclude daily meetings as forty, and would be
only tantalizing instead of comfortable. The affair was at length
arranged through the intervention of Mr. Bridge, who invited both his
sister and her young friend to take up their residence for a time in
his Vicarage at Croydon. And so it was settled at last, and after a
hundred kind words and caresses from Lady Gordon, and the most cordial
good wishes from her husband, Emma left the Castle, travelling, be it
recorded, in one of Sir William's carriages half the way, where she
was to be met by Miss Bridge's chariot, to convey her the latter half
of the journey.
With no accident and no adventure she reached Croydon, and of course
received a far warmer welcome than when she had formerly made the same
journey.
Elizabeth was waiting to receive her—her face was seen through the
flowers in the drawing-room window, and she reached the entrance door,
and ran down the steps to open the carriage before the fat,
well-powdered footman had time to put on his livery coat. She led her
sister into the house, and in the passage pushed back the bonnet and
the dark curls from her cheeks, to see if she was as pretty as ever.
Then, before leading her into the drawing-room, she paused again to
make her guess who she would find there.
Emma suggested Mr. and Miss Bridge.
"You little goose," replied Elizabeth, "as if I should have thought it
worth while to make you guess that!"
Then throwing open the door she ushered her in, and in another moment
Emma was clasped in the arms of her dear brother Sam. This was a very
unexpected pleasure—she had hoped to see him certainly, but never for
a moment anticipated meeting him so soon. It was the joint kindness of
Miss Bridge and Elizabeth; the one well remembering the affectionate
terms in which Emma always spoke of her brother had been suggesting
the possibility of his coming, and the other eager to carry out the
plan had persuaded George Millar to ask him to his house for the week
preceding the wedding. He had arrived that very afternoon, and after
an introduction to his future brother, had accompanied Elizabeth to
meet Emma.
Emma had much to communicate to Sam; besides her own prospects she had
matters which must be interesting to him as concerning himself. A
farewell visit which she had paid to the Edwards had brought another
engagement to her knowledge. Mary Edwards was soon to be married to
Captain Hunter. She found them _tête-à-tête_ in the parlour when she
entered, and appearances were so very suspicious, that even without
the direct information which Mrs. Edwards subsequently whispered to
her, she would have concluded her brother's cause to be lost.
Mrs. Edwards appeared on the whole better reconciled to the match than
Emma, from her early recollections, would have supposed. Perhaps she
had discouraged Mary's partiality for the Captain, from a doubt of his
sincerity, which was now removed; or perhaps finding herself in the
minority, she had given up her previous objections, because it was no
use to persist in them; whatever were her feelings, she had received
Emma's congratulations with a good grace, and Emma hoped there was no
ill-will implied in the message of compliments which she charged her
to deliver to their old acquaintance Mr. Sam Watson.
All this she had to communicate to Sam, who listened with philosophy,
and whistled _sotto voce_ instead of an answer. Certainly the part
which piqued him most was Mrs. Edwards' message; for some time indeed
he had almost despaired of Mary's affection, but he could not bear
that the mother who had never been his friend, should suppose he cared
at all about it.
There seemed nothing wanting to complete the felicity of the happy
party assembled at the Rectory of Croydon. Perhaps indeed Mr. Howard
would not have been flattered had he supposed this the case; but so it
really was; Emma had parted from him so recently that she hardly felt
the want of his society yet, and the satisfaction of knowing herself
beloved was at present sufficient for her repose of mind. The
agitations and anxieties of suspense were over, and were followed by a
calmness and peace of mind which seemed all that she could require.
She had now as much to hear as to tell, for Sam had been to
Chichester, and seen Penelope and her husband, had arranged the plan
for his future establishment, and his prospects were of a very bright
character. Could he only have commanded a couple of thousand pounds,
besides what he possessed, there would have been no difficulty at all
in stepping into a comfortable house and flourishing business. As it
was, the prospects which Penelope promised him should be realized in a
short time, were sufficient to raise his mind and ease his spirits.