"And you, Miss Emma Watson," cried Miss Carr, "do you not delight in cards—you answer with a degree of coldness that speaks rather of indifference on the subject."
"I can play if necessary," replied Emma, "but there are many occupations I prefer."
"But you shall not be obliged to make martyrs of yourselves," said Miss Osborne good-humouredly. "If you prefer it you shall sit here, either or both of you, but we do not play high."
Nothing remarkable occurred during the rest of the evening; a dull, leaden state seemed to pervade everything, and both the Miss Watsons felt an inclination to yawn, which they dared not indulge in so august a presence. They were very glad when the time for taking leave arrived, and the enlivening bustle of putting on cloaks and fur boots quite aroused them. Lord Osborne looked on whilst Mr. Howard was wrapping up Emma, with a degree of attention which held out fair hopes of his soon learning such a lesson by heart.
"I shall come down and see you to-morrow," said he.
"It seems warmer to-night," observed Emma, "don't you think we are going to have a thaw? perhaps we may get home to-morrow."
"I hope you are not weary of us," said Mr. Howard, in a cordial voice; "if the weather does not change till we wish it, we shall keep you prisoner some days yet."
"Thank you," said she—she wanted to say something more but did not know exactly what, and they reached the carriage before she had made up her mind.
The bright fire which was burning in the comfortable little drawing room at the parsonage, irresistably invited them to enter and draw round it, before separating for the night. Their drive had dispelled their sleepiness, and they were all four in good spirits: it was just the time, the situation, when reserve seems naturally cast aside, and friendly chat and the merry laugh go round unrestrained.
"Well, Miss Watson," said Mrs. Willis, "is your curiosity gratified? how do you like the Castle? are you envious of their state?"