"But it's not my business to be obliged to appear in public is a witness in this ridiculous matter. If he likes to make his sister's affaires de cœur the subject for conversation and coarse jokes through the county, it is all very well, but I cannot see why I am to be implicated in a transaction which reflects nothing but discredit on all the parties," said Miss Osborne, with encreasing dissatisfaction.
"Especially to those who are detected in listening, Rosa," suggested Sir William Gordon.
"And poor Emma too," continued she, pretending not to hear him, "she evidently dreads the threatened exposure; I am quite concerned about it for her."
"Naturally enough," said the lover, in the same tormenting tone; "it makes every one sorry to be found out."
"Really, Sir William Gordon," said Miss Osborne, drawing up her slight figure with an air of great indignation, "if you can suggest nothing that is more agreeable than such reflections, we shall be better without you; and I recommend you to leave us to take care of ourselves."
It was haughtily said—for her quick temper was roused; he knew her well, and did not mean that she should obtain a sovereign rule over him. He loved her for her spirit—but he was determined not to crouch to it—and rising, he made her a grave bow, and left the room. She looked after him anxiously, expecting he would return, or at least, give her one more glance, but he did not, and the door closed before she could make up her mind to speak again.
"What do you want me to do, Rosa?" said her brother, "I think it will be easy to prevent all this, if it plagues you and your friend so much; I will speak to Tom myself, and see if I cannot persuade him to keep his promise."
"Ah! do, if you can, Osborne; of course the girl wants to marry him; and if he will do that, we shall be left in peace. Poor Emma seems very unhappy—look at her letter."
Lord Osborne received it eagerly and read it through.
"Poor thing," said he, quite compassionately, "how soon, Rosa, may girls marry after their father's death?"