Emma walked slowly up-stairs, and turning her head, she saw Sir William join Miss Osborne and address her. His reception was any thing but gracious—the young lady seemed bitterly offended about something, drew up her head—pouted her under lip, and gave unmistakeable signs of being out of temper with him. Emma did not wait to see whether he succeeded in propitiating her anger, which she suspected arose from the supposition that they had been walking together; and, to allay which, she determined to give an accurate account of their adventure. On descending again to the hall, she found only her friend, the gentleman having disappeared, and with her she proceeded to the sitting room where Miss Osborne usually spent her mornings.
Here the three girls were sufficiently merry and talkative, but Emma could not find an opportunity of introducing the subject of her morning walk, which she could not help fancying was scrupulously avoided by her young hostess—a circumstance which rather annoyed her, as she particularly desired to explain the reason of her return with Sir William.
CHAPTER III.
The whole day was too wet to allow anything like exercise out of doors, and Miss Carr complained bitterly of the stupidity and dullness of a wet morning after a ball; indeed she found it so great an evil that she threw herself on a sofa and fell into a doze, from which she was roused by the entrance of Lord Osborne. At sight of him she started up, and tried to be animated and agreeable, but it was evidently thrown away upon him, as he seated himself by Emma, who was engaged in embroidering for his sister, and began to admire her work.
Emma's manners were too quiet and reserved to give Miss Carr any ground for supposing she was a voluntary rival, but his were so unusually animated as to make his admiration of her indubitable, and Miss Carr's jealousy extreme. Emma's thoughts were wandering—two wonders continually occupied her mind, one on the subject of Margaret and Tom Musgrove—the other more nearly connected with her own feelings and sentiments. She was roused by Miss Osborne's enquiring of her brother if he had seen any of their friends at the Parsonage that day. His answer was in the affirmative; he had been walking with Howard and had a long chat with him about something of importance, and Howard was thinking of going away for a few weeks, if he could get any one to take his duty; he thought his sister wanted change of air, and it was a long time since he had enjoyed a holiday.
"Going away!" exclaimed Miss Osborne, with a look of utter amazement; "this does take me entirely by surprise. What in the world can influence him to such a freak as that! going away, and at such a time!"
"I do not see why he should not go if he likes travelling in the cold," observed Lord Osborne coolly; "he has a right to a holiday if he chooses."
"And he has worked particularly hard of late," added Miss Carr maliciously; "he has had double duty to perform."
"He is always very attentive to the parish," said Miss Osborne.
"Yes, both to old and young—the charitable visits that he pays to some old ladies are most exemplary," continued Miss Carr in a sarcastic tone. "No doubt he will be rewarded for his exertions, but I fear he will be much missed in his absence."