When first Robert came to Winston, Elizabeth had consulted him on the subject of sending for Sam, but her brother opposed it. Emma had listened in silent anxiety to the debate, and in keen disappointment to its termination. From her sister's conversation, she had an ardent desire to meet her unknown brother; she expected to be able to like him—Elizabeth had, in speaking of him, told many little traits of character, which convinced her that he must possess a generous disposition and an affectionate heart; she longed to see him—to know him—to be loved by him.
But Robert had decided that though he was, of course, to be informed of his father's illness, there was no need to say any thing which should induce him to come himself—no doubt it would be excessively inconvenient to his master—a needless expense to himself—perfectly undesirable in every way, and quite unnecessary; for, of what use could Sam be when Robert himself was there. He was nobody—a younger son—the most unimportant being in the world. As to his wishing to see his father again, what did that signify? People could not always have what they wished for—young men in their apprenticeship must not look for holidays; he was sure he should never have thought of any thing of the sort whilst he was serving his articles; and now, how seldom did he ever take a holiday from the office? Let Sam look to him and his application to business, if he wanted an example of steadiness and good conduct.
But Emma's wish to see her brother was not fated to be entirely disappointed, for no sooner did he receive the news of his father's death, than he obtained leave of absence from his master without difficulty, and arrived unexpectedly at Winston. She was sitting alone in the darkened parlour, when an unknown step arrested her attention; it was not the slow, measured consequential tread of Robert; it was quicker, lighter, more like one which had sometimes made her heart beat before; at least so she fancied for a moment, perhaps only because she had just been thinking of him. The footstep passed the door, then paused, returned and entered slowly.
It was not more than the doubt of a moment, as to the identity of the intruder; there was so strange a family likeness on each side, a likeness of more than features, a likeness in mind and temper, a sympathy of feeling, that the hesitation of the brother and sister was brief indeed.
"My dear Emma, how I have longed to see you," cried he advancing, "I am your youngest brother, will you not welcome me?"
The cordial, fraternal embrace with which the words were accompanied, overcame her firmness, and she burst into tears in his arms. He was much affected likewise, but struggled for composure in order to soothe her, opened the window to give her air, brought her a glass of water from the side-board, and then sitting down with his arm round her waist, drew from her all the circumstances of his father's death, and learnt that it was Robert's doing that he had not been summoned sooner. That hour repaid Emma for much that she had suffered mentally in her father's house. She had found a friend in her brother. The dearest, the least selfish, the most equal bond which nature ties; children of the same parents, sharing the same fears, the same sorrows; from that moment was laid the foundation of an affection which added so greatly to her happiness; feelings till then sleeping unknown in her heart, were suddenly awakened; and affections which almost unconsciously had been craving for subsistence, having now found an aliment to nourish and satisfy them, grew rapidly into strength and beauty.
One hour's delightful intercourse was theirs, before they were interrupted by the rest of the family; but when her other sisters entered the room, Emma could not but wonder at the indifference with which he was received both by Pen and Margaret, and imputing to him the sensitive feelings of her own heart, felt doubly pained by each cold word or careless look bestowed on her new brother.
Robert's reception, however, was the worst of all.
"So you are come, are you—hum," that was his salutation.
"Yes," replied Sam quietly, "of course you were expecting me!"