It was evident that the fact of his not having dined, gave him a happy consciousness of vast mental superiority over his companions. But Emma found herself sadly deceived in the hopes which she had ventured fondly to cherish, that the dinner awaiting him would hasten his departure. On the contrary, when the tea-things were removed, and the card-table produced, a very slight hint from Mrs. Watson was quite sufficient to draw from him a speech, which beginning with a statement of the necessity of quitting them, ended, of course, with an assertion of the impossibility of tearing himself away: and he was then quite ready to join their party; keeping his dinner still in waiting, as a subject to be reverted to whenever other topics failed him.
"Well, ladies," cried he, "what are we to play—what's your favorite game, Mrs. Watson."
"Oh, we play nothing but Vingt'un at Croydon," said she, "all the best circles play Vingt'un—it is decidedly the most genteel."
"Vingt'un—hum—very well—let it be vingt'un then," said Tom; "it's a long time since I played it; Lady Osborne likes loo best—indeed, I believe amongst people of at certain rank, loo is all the rage—but, however, since you are bent on—commerce, was that what you said, Mrs. Watson?"
"Oh, dear no," cried she, colouring, and overawed by the superiority of his tone, "I merely mentioned vingt'un, but I quite agree with you, it is rather a stupid game, and I am quite tired of it. Suppose we try loo to-night?" And she privately resolved to store up in her memory the important fact, that Lady Osborne preferred loo to vingt'un, and on her return to Croydon, astonish her former acquaintance with her intimate knowledge of her ladyship's taste and habits.
"As I happen to prefer loo to vingt'un," said Robert Watson, ashamed of being supposed to following any one's fashions, yet, from habitual servility to the great, afraid of asserting a difference of opinion; "I see no harm in playing it, otherwise, had I liked any other game better, I should certainly have seen Lady Osborne at Jericho before I would have allowed her to interfere."
An idea crossed Emma's mind, that in all probability nothing could be farther from Lady Osborne's wishes or notions, than influencing their choice of a game; and that if their debate could possibly be revealed to her, she would, perhaps, consider it impertinent in them, to make her diversions a pattern for theirs. Loo, however, they were fated to play; and Emma, who hated cards, thought with regret of the quiet evenings she had formerly enjoyed so much, when chatting over her needle-work with Elizabeth, or reading at intervals to her father some favourite author.
Their party did not break up until supper-time, of which, of course, Tom Musgrove was pressed to stay and partake. But he, who was determined to call his next meal a dinner, felt himself forced to refuse, although, in truth, he would much rather have accepted the offer, could his vanity have allowed him to follow his inclination.
Mrs. Watson whispered to her sister, to ask him to join them at dinner the next day, which Elizabeth acceded to with great cordiality. They were to have a few friends to dinner, and if he could condescend to eat at five o'clock, perhaps he might find it in other respects agreeable, and they would be happy to see him. He hesitated and demurred, not from any doubt as to his final determination, but because he meant to give his acceptance a greater grace.
"As I am well aware of Mr. Musgrove's habits of intimacy with my sister," said Mrs. Watson, simpering; "I shall conclude, if he refuses now, it is poor unfortunate me, whom he despises and avoids."