CHAPTER IX.
To return to the party at the parsonage, whom we left discussing the point, Elizabeth suddenly turned to her sister and exclaimed,
"By the bye Emma, you have given no opinion on the subject—yet you are as much interested as the rest of us. What do you think of going—should you like it?"
"Yes, I think I should," replied Emma honestly and boldly. "I like what I have seen of Miss Osborne better than I expected, and really have rather a curiosity to see the inside of the Castle."
"Ah, Emma, I am glad you have come down from your proud indifference, and condescended to be curious like the rest of us," cried her sister.
"Did you think I affected indifference, Elizabeth?"
"I suspected it. For my part I have no scruple in owning my wishes, and should like extremely to surprise Tom Musgrove by my acquaintance with the manners, amusements and ideas prevalent in Osborne Castle, of which he talks so much."
"Then I may conclude it a settled affair," observed Mrs. Willis; "and Charles shall run up to the Castle with the note immediately. That shall be his share of the amusement."
At six o'clock the party started from the Parsonage. Elizabeth in a flutter between curiosity and fear, which made her pleasure in the undertaking rather doubtful to herself. Emma would have thought more about it had she not been engrossed with meditations on the change in Mr. Howard's manners, which rather perplexed her. He had been different all the afternoon from what he had appeared in the morning; his prolonged absence from their company seemed unaccordant with Charles's declaration of his haste to join them, and there was a coldness in his tone when he addressed her, quite at variance with his former warmth and frankness. This pained her; she was constantly fancying that she had done or said something to lessen herself in his esteem, but she could not imagine what it was. Occupied with these thoughts she scarcely noticed the grandeur of the Hall, the magnificent staircase, the elegance of the ante-rooms as they approached, and was only roused from her reverie by the overpowering blaze of light in the drawing-room. Lady Osborne was alone in the room, seated on a sofa from which she did not rise to receive them, but graciously extended her thin and richly jewelled hand to Mrs. Willis, and bowed courteously to her companions.
Overawed by her near approach to such magnificence, Elizabeth drew back rather hastily, and after nearly upsetting Emma by inadvertently treading on her toe, she dropped into the chair which seemed most out of sight, and endeavoured to recover her breath and composure.