"I am sure she deserves to be so," replied Annie with enthusiasm, "she is such a very amiable person, I know few with whom I more enjoy a day's intercourse. It always seems to do me good to hear her talk, she makes so light of difficulties, and is so cheerful. To me, who I believe am rather too apt to grumble, she is quite a lesson I assure you."
"I am delighted to hear you say so," replied Emma, with a look that shewed how perfectly sincere was the expression she used.
Though Annie was frequently called away by the necessity of receiving other visitors, she took every opportunity she could command of returning to Emma's side, and conversing with her in the most friendly way. During the intervals when she was obliged to withdraw, Emma looked round the room, to see how the others were employed or amused. Mrs. Turner was discoursing eloquently with Mrs. Watson, who was evidently bored exceedingly, and hardly listening at all; her thoughts as well as her eyes seemed to turn constantly to an individual of the party unknown to Emma, a tall and pleasant looking man, who stood by a nice looking elderly lady, and seemed to be making himself very agreeable to her. Margaret had no one to talk to, and was busy in arranging her tucker in a satisfactory way, and smoothing her gloves from the tips of the fingers upwards. Robert was hungry, and consequently quite unable to enter into conversation with any one. He was faintly trying to hide the violent yawns which were produced by the suspension of feeling—the uneasy state of expectancy in which he was kept. Emma could read his impatience in the peculiar twitching about his eyes, and the spasmodic way in which his hands closed at intervals, as if grasping some imaginary knife and fork. There were two other gentlemen of the party whose names she ascertained from her young friend; one a tall, stiff, elderly man, with an erect carriage, and rather disappointed expression of countenance, she learnt was a Captain Tomlins, an old soldier, who played a remarkably good rubber at whist; the other was the clergyman of the parish, who had but just returned from Bath, and consequently was unknown to Emma. He was a mild-looking, middle-aged man, with a very bald head, and a small quantity of silver hair; his countenance was singularly pleasing and inviting, and there was an earnest kindness in his manner which charmed her. He stooped and was very round shouldered, whilst a slight appearance of lameness arising from the gout which had driven him to Bath, interested Emma peculiarly in him, because it reminded her of her father. The other individual who occupied so much of Jane's attention, Emma was likewise informed was the doctor of the parish, and one of the principal objects of interest to half the ladies of the town. Annie assured her his reputation as a doctor was wonderful; he made all his patients pleased with themselves, and consequently pleased with him likewise; indeed he had a sort of harmless way of making love to the ladies under his care, which was very captivating to most people.
"And are you one of his patients?" enquired Emma, "or only an amateur admirer of his?"
"Oh, I was never any one's patient," replied Annie; "I am never ill; and as to being an admirer of his, indeed I do not think I ever could admire a doctor—I have a decided aversion to the profession altogether."
"I never liked it," observed Emma, "until I became acquainted with my brother Sam, and for his sake I have been quite reconciled to it."
"Yes I can understand that, I think George could reconcile me to anything," replied Miss Millar with an expression of feeling resting on her open countenance, which Emma thought quite bewitching; "but after all a doctor's is an odious profession: to be eternally dinned with complaints and pains, and always administering drugs and mixtures in which I dare say they have no faith all the time, must require a stock of extraordinary patience. I wonder how that man can go smiling and complimenting through the world as he does."
"But you look only at the disagreeable side of the profession," returned Emma; "you should consider it as the means of alleviating suffering, relieving distress—perhaps prolonging the most valuable life; if you think of the good a doctor can do, you will form a higher estimate of the profession."
"Yes, but then all those wise thoughts do not come of themselves into my poor brain; it is only those as clever and sedate as you who can suggest them, and in spite of it all, I am afraid I shall go on always hating the profession all my life."
Their conversation was cut short by a summons to dinner, when owing to there being a preponderance of ladies in the party, Annie and Emma walked in together. At the table, however, they were separated, and Emma's ill-luck placed her between her sister-in-law and her brother, a mis-arrangement which was not perceived until every one was seated, and which Mrs. Watson then insisted should not be changed.