"You would have looked more frightened yesterday, Amy," she said, "if I had told you breakfast was ready, and every one wondering at your absence."
"Ah, yes," replied Amy; "but I cannot feel frightened at anything this morning, excepting—I am afraid perhaps you will think it wrong—but do you think papa will be pleased with me? I don't mean exactly with my face, and my manner, because he will not care so much about that, as I am his child; but will he think me very stupid, and dull, and different from everybody else?"
"If he should feel as I do," said Emily, as she fastened Amy's dress, and smoothed her dark ringlets, "he will love you so dearly, that he will not be inclined to criticise anything; but we must not wait to talk now—breakfast is really ready, and your uncle asked me to come for you."
"My uncle!" said Amy; "but shall we not be in the school-room as usual?"
"No," replied Emily; "every one was so late this morning, that Mrs
Harrington thought it better not."
"And will all the company be in the breakfast-room, then?" said Amy, in great alarm; "and am I the last?"
"Not quite," replied Emily; "Mrs Danvers is not come down yet; and there is a special place left for you at the bottom of the table, between your papa and your uncle."
"I do not think I can go," said Amy, stopping as she was about to leave the room; "there will be so many—and it will be just like seeing papa quite new—I can hardly recollect now what he was like last night."
"But he asked so often if your cousins had seen you, and was so anxious about you," replied Emily, "he could scarcely attend to anything else; and your mamma was obliged to beg him not to have you disturbed, or I am sure he would have sent for you half an hour ago."
"If I thought he would not be disappointed, I should not care," said Amy, as she moved slowly along the gallery; "but I know all my ideas will go when he speaks to me, and then he will think me so dull, and be so vexed."