She gave him as friendly a return to his salutation as she could force from her lips—far more than she felt from the fear of betraying her feelings; whilst he professed most unbounded satisfaction at his good luck in thus overtaking her.
On his enquiring where she was going, she owned she had lost her way, and was thinking of taking shelter in the cottage before them from the rapidly encreasing rain.
"Do you require shelter?" cried he; "then let us hasten there at once; but I thought you must be a fairy or a sprite, no mortal maiden could be walking at this hour after dancing all night as you did. Seeing you could go without rest, I naturally concluded you would be alike indifferent to the variations of the elements—proof to the storm—impervious to the rain."
Emma smilingly assured him she was very far from this; and that she must now condescend to make haste to avoid a thorough wetting. He begged to be allowed to show her the way, and as they descended the steep side of the glen together, she felt that she ought to be thankful for his arrival, as the path was so abrupt, and in some places almost precipitous that his support was, if not absolutely necessary, at least very convenient, when in a hurry, as she was at present.
With all their haste, however, she was not a little wet, by the time they stood in the porch of the lodge, and were right glad when, on the door unclosing, in answer to their knock, they saw a bright fire burning on the hearth.
The keeper's wife, a pretty and neat-looking young woman, very hospitably pressed them to enter, exerted herself to dry Emma's cloak and hat, and then asking if they had breakfasted, set about preparing them a meal with all expedition, probably pitying the uncomfortable lot of those who were obliged by fashion to defer their morning meal so long. The keen appetite which a walk on a winter's morning would produce was sufficient to have made welcome even inferior fare to that which she displayed. The excellent bread and butter, the eggs, the apples, the raspberry jam, were all tempting in themselves, and the jug of home-brewed ale which she placed for Sir William was declared by him to be an excellent substitute for chocolate after a late supper and an early walk.
Whilst she was preparing these things, her child, an infant of a few months old, awoke in its cradle near the chimney corner. Perceiving that the mother was too busy to attend to him, Emma volunteered to act the part of nurse; and, being really fond of children, took much pleasure in the occupation. Sir William looked at her with admiration—he had been struck with her when dressed for the ball, and surrounded by a crowd of other elegant women, but here the effect was doubled by the accompaniments. The small and plainly furnished room, was brightly illumined by the blazing fire—which, in spite of the gloom without, threw a ruddy glow over every thing beside it.
Emma's simple dress shewing her figure unencumbered by ornament or superfluous clothing, her dark hair, now wetted by the rain carelessly pushed back from her glowing cheeks, highly coloured by the rapid exercise which she had just undergone; her graceful movements as she tossed and played with the infant in her arms, and the sweet smiles which she bestowed on the really pretty child, struck him as forming the prettiest picture he had ever seen. He drew back a little to contemplate it, and being an excellent artist, he could not resist the temptation of trying a sketch of her figure on a leaf in his pocket-book.
Engrossed with her charge, and not much caring for his company, she did not for some time notice his occupation, and he had made a very satisfactory though slight sketch of her, before she was in the least aware of it. But suddenly turning to him, and catching his eyes fixed on her, whilst the pencil was suspended under his fingers, the idea of what he was doing struck her at once. The perfect simplicity of her manner when charging him with it, the freedom from all affectation, and all appearance of gratified vanity, seemed to him no less remarkable than her grace and beauty, and he no longer wondered at the effect her presence had visibly exercised over both Lord Osborne and Mr. Howard, and only felt surprise that Miss Osborne herself should not feel uneasy at placing her brother in proximity to so captivating a girl. He was sure, had his heart been free, she would inevitably have conquered it, but his long standing partiality for Miss Osborne herself was not to be overthrown by the unconscious rivalry of Emma Watson.
"I was not aware you were an artist, Sir William," said she, quietly taking the paper from his hand and looking over it, "this indicates that you are a master of the pencil. You will allow me to keep it I hope, it can be of no use to you."