"Indeed, what do you suppose she writes about—by the way, I suppose you are not accustomed to receive letters and give no account of them, are you?"
"Indeed I am," replied Emma, quite ashamed at the idea of supervision in such a particular, "I have never been controlled in either receiving or writing a letter."
"I consider that an exceedingly improper liberty for a young girl," observed Mrs. Watson drily, "at your time of life, under age, I should hold your guardian as very culpable if he took no account of your letters, and I am much mistaken if your brother does not expect, as a matter of course, to overlook all the correspondence you chose to carry on."
"Surely he cannot consider it necessary," remonstrated Emma seriously, "at my age—it is not as if I were a baby quite, but I am almost twenty."
"Possibly so, but whilst you are under age you are his ward, and must have to submit to any restrictions he lays on you with a good grace. It's no use colouring and pouting, there's nothing like bearing things with a good temper, and not giving yourself airs and graces about it. There's your letter!"
Emma took the letter, and observed, as she put it in her pocket:
"If you will show me what you want done, I shall be happy to oblige you."
"Read your letter first, Emma, it may be a matter of business, and you should never delay business—your brother always says, 'do what is to be done directly, and do it yourself.'"
Emma silently drew forth the letter, and breaking the seal read the following words:
"My dear Miss Watson,