"I must beg, Mr. Morgan, if you mention Lord Osborne's name at all, it may be in terms such as I may listen to without offence. Pray remember that I am under obligations to that family, for which it would be a bad return to hear, without remonstrance, such aspersions cast on the head of it. But I must confess I see no reason why either they or myself should form the subject of your interrogatories. You have no claim either past or present, which can make these enquiries anything short of impertinent, and I must beg they may cease entirely."
She then walked a few steps to see if she could obtain any view of her brother and friend, for whose return she felt anxious. Nothing, however, was to be seen of them, and as she paused, her companion was again at her side.
"How unfortunate I am," said he in a low tone, "it is constantly my fate to offend those for whom I feel the deepest interest, and to be misunderstood on every occasion where my sentiments are concerned. Interest, friendship, zeal, constantly carry me beyond the bounds proscribed by cold custom and formality, and I am repulsed in a way which all but annihilates me. At this moment you are angry with me; have I sinned unpardonably?"
"I am not angry" said Emma, drily, "but I must beg that all personal subjects of conversation may be dropped; we have neither sentiments nor interests in common, and on all topics connected with feeling I must impose a total silence."
"Unfeeling, cruel girl," cried he, then seeing that she resolutely walked away in the direction of the boat-house, where she concluded the party must be now assembled, he followed her steps in haste, and placing himself by her side, he continued in a low but emphatic tone,
"Emma Watson, why should you scorn my offers of friendship, and my professions of regard? Why should you shun me as if I were some dangerous enemy? Do you mistrust my word; or am I responsible for the silly gossiping of idle women? Did I not warn you against it?—why then visit it on me? Or have I personally offended you?—what have I done?—you will not speak—you try to elude me—nay, but you shall hear me; you shall answer me by heaven!—Who has wronged me in your opinion?"
"Mr. Morgan, let go my hand—is this honourable?—is this manly to attempt to obtain an answer to impertinent enquiries by compulsion?—Let go my hand—I tell you I will neither hear nor answer you!"
"Emma, I was wrong—" said he, softening his voice, but instead of releasing her hand, clasping it in both of his, "I ought to know you better—I understand your heart and feelings—"
"You do no such thing, sir,—or you would not detain me here, or compel me to listen to such language. Let me go—I command you."
"Emma, your heart is no longer your own—am I not right?—you love!"