"Excuse me, the sketch I cannot part with, at least not at present, I wish to make a drawing of the subject; as the interior of a cottage it will be perfect; pray do not require me to give it up." As he spoke he took the sketch from her, as if afraid she might detain it against his wishes.
She said no more in opposition, but looking out of the window, began to wonder whether there was any prospect of the rain ceasing, so as to give them a chance of reaching the Castle in comfort.
"I assure you we shall not be missed these two hours," said he, "there is not the remotest chance of any one being up in the Castle before noon, after such a ball as that of last night."
"I should not like to spend many such nights," observed Emma, "one soon tires of pleasure or rather of dissipation."
"What sort of life would you have, Miss Watson, could you decide your lot with a wish—have you made up your mind?"
"Hardly, it is a point that requires reflection, and I cannot say that I have bestowed much on it," replied Emma.
"Indeed—you don't say so—I thought all young ladies settled that before hand—the situation, residence, fortune, even the name which the future was to bring them, do you not arrange that entirely."
"If that is the case I am sadly behind hand," replied she smiling.
"It is never too late to mend, that must be your comfort; begin now—do you prefer the country, or are you ambitious of a house in town?"
"Oh, the latter of course; a house in town and ten thousand a-year; you cannot imagine I should stop short if I once began wishing, what would be the good of that?"