"I dare say that is very true," replied Margaret; "but I must say I think them very coarse and clownish; now and then one sees a pretty looking girl; but the men are all detestable."
"I have little to say for their manners or persons," said Mr. Howard; "but, I assure you, I have met with poetical though uncultivated minds amongst labouring men—the true poetry of nature."
"It must be very odd poetry expressed in such gothic language," said Margaret, laughing: as she had not the smallest poetical feeling herself, she could not comprehend what he meant when he talked of it, and concluded that the peasantry spoke in rhyme, or, at least, blank verse.
At this moment the entrance of the other young ladies cut short the discussion, and introduced a new subject. Charles, who had been standing by his mother, earnestly contemplating the crown of his hat, and drawing figures with his finger on the beaver, now looked up, all animation, as Emma kindly greeted him as her "first partner at her first ball." His mother's eyes sparkled almost as much as the little boy's, at her good-natured notice. Mr. Howard's admiration of her was less obvious, but, perhaps, not less sincere than the others. A moment after, Mr. Watson entered the room: his gout was better, and allowed him to come down stairs.
Mr. Howard noticed that it was Emma who rolled his easy chair into the proper position, Emma, who arranged his footstool, who drew the curtain to exclude the glare of the wintry sun, placed the screen to ward off the draught from the door, and laid his spectacles, snuff-box, and writing-case on precisely the proper spots of the proper table next him. Elizabeth was conversing with her visitor, and Margaret never stirred on such occasions. Certainly Emma's exertions, at this time, were almost rendered useless by the zeal with which Mr. Howard seconded her movements. Mr. Watson's comforts were soon arranged in the most satisfactory manner, such as long habit had rendered indispensable to him, and when he had carefully adjusted his spectacles, and taken a survey of the room, he turned to Mr. Howard, and enquired, who was that nice young woman talking to Elizabeth.
On being answered that it was his sister, he civilly apologised for not having known her, which, as he had never seen her before, he remarked, was not wonderful; but Elizabeth ought to have introduced him before he sat down, as really the gout made it extremely difficult to move across the room. Elizabeth did not think it necessary to justify herself by informing him, that it was only owing to the self-engrossment and bustle attending his progress and settlement in his arm-chair, that her attempt at an introduction had been thwarted; indeed, Miss Watson was so little used to such ceremonies as to have seized precisely the most inauspicious moment for speaking, and having been foiled in her first essay, sat down without trying again.
Mrs. Willis, however, made it all easy, and soothed Mr. Watson's discomposure at such a breach of etiquette, by the good-natured and respectful manner in which she now addressed him.
Whilst they were sitting in pleasant chat, Tom Musgrove again appeared amongst them. Emma really began to hate the sight of him on Margaret's account, as her sister's manners whilst in his company, cost her many blushes; and her increase of fretfulness after his departure occasioned discomfort to the whole party. It was a great gratification to her to discover from Mr. Watson's manner, that he was very far from looking on Tom Musgrove as the amiable and elegant gentleman that he aspired to be considered, and she even fancied that her father did not receive him simply as an inoffensive guest; on the contrary, he seemed annoyed at his visit, and inclined to regard it as an intrusion.
"Well master Tom," said he, "what foolish thing have you been doing lately?—breaking any more horses' knees or dinner-engagements—your genius cannot have been idle since I saw you last—let's hear all about it."
"No indeed sir," replied Tom; "I have been doing nothing worth chronicling, at least to such a judge as you. I have had my own little amusements, but they are not worth detailing. By the bye Howard, I dare say Osborne did not tell you how completely I beat him at Fives the other day: he's a good player too—but didn't I astonish him."