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.