Often as she had wished for and ordered it, she had never been able to get any thing tolerable. Here was a dangerous opening.
"Ah!" said Mr. Woodhouse, shaking his head and fixing his eyes on her with tender concern.-The ejaculation in Emma's ear expressed,
"Ah! there is no end of the sad consequences of your going to South End. It does not bear talking of." And for a little while she hoped he would not talk of it, and that a silent rumination might suffice to restore him to the relish of his own smooth gruel.
After an interval of some minutes, however, he began with,
"I shall always be very sorry that you went to the sea this autumn, instead of coming here."
"But why should you be sorry, sir?-I assure you, it did the children a great deal of good."
"And, moreover, if you must go to the sea, it had better not have been to South End. South End is an unhealthy place.
Perry was surprized to hear you had fixed upon South End."
"I know there is such an idea with many people, but indeed it is quite a mistake, sir.-We all had our health perfectly well there, never found the least inconvenience from the mud; and Mr. Wingfield says it is entirely a mistake to suppose the place unhealthy; and I am sure he may be depended on, for he thoroughly understands the nature of the air, and his own brother and family have been there repeatedly."
"You should have gone to Cromer, my dear, if you went anywhere.-Perry was a week at Cromer once, and he holds it to be the best of all the sea-bathing places. A fine open sea, he says, and very pure air. And, by what I understand, you might have had lodgings there quite away from the sea-a quarter of a mile off-very comfortable.