Her first question to him was whether he had as yet done anything towards procuring her removal from Croydon. He believed that she must recover her health before anything could be done with that view. But she so earnestly assured him that she should regain strength with twice the rapidity if he would only let her know what he proposed to do, that he told her to set her mind at ease, as he had already arranged a plan for her comfort. He had a sister, a single lady, residing about fourteen miles from Croydon, and if she liked to go and pass a few weeks with her, she would be sure of retirement and tranquillity with every comfort that could be desired.
Emma was delighted with the idea; she was certain she should like Miss Bridge, and that nothing could be more agreeable than residing in the country quite retired and with only one pleasant companion. There she should continue, she trusted, until Miss Osborne renewed her solicitations for her society, and even after that visit was paid she might return there. She pictured to herself how she would engage in a thousand useful and agreeable occupations, and how she would love the charming old lady on whom she would attend with unremitting zeal. She declared that she felt herself increasing every moment in strength by the contemplation of such a residence, and she trusted that she should soon be out of sight and sound of Mr. Morgan and all the inquisitorial residents of Croydon—how soon should she be able to go?
This Mr. Bridge told her depended entirely on the state of her health; as soon as she could be moved with safety he would take her in his own carriage half of the way, where his sister would meet her and convey her the other half.
"Oh, let it be to-morrow!" cried she; "I am sure I shall be well enough—my strength is greater than you think."
"Well well, we will ask the doctor," replied he.
"Do not ask Mr. Morgan anything about it," said Emma flushing again deeply. "I do not want to have anything to do with him that I can help. I believe it was one thing that made me ill, because they would have him to visit me."
"Come, be reasonable," said he smiling; "if you talk in that way I shall think you light-headed. Now I must leave you; I will see you again to-morrow morning, and if I find you well enough, will send word to my sister at once and settle your plans."
He took leave, and was quitting the room when he met Elizabeth returning, and Emma anxious that her sister should immediately participate in her pleasant prospects, begged him if he could spare a few minutes more to stop and explain their plans. Miss Watson of course was very much pleased at hearing what he had to tell, and immediately saw all the advantages to Emma which such a removal would procure, except the one principal one, which was the secret source of her sister's eagerness to put it in execution. But she had never heard a syllable of the reports which had been so industriously circulated relative to Emma and Mr. Morgan, and was very far from imagining he could in any way, either as an object of love or of hatred, influence her feelings or proceedings. She admitted that it was in every way desirable that Emma should have a peaceful and comfortable home, and the only thing she stipulated for was, that she should return to Croydon as soon as she herself could offer her an equally comfortable abode in her own house. This point Emma did not feel disposed to dispute, though she secretly entered a protest against returning to Croydon for a residence if she could in any way avoid it.
She proved herself right in her anticipations that the relief to her mind would be of essential service to her body; she was so very much better the next morning as to be able to leave her bed-room, and sit up some time in Janetta's nursery, and here she was, with her little niece standing beside her, and no one else in the room, when Mr. Morgan was suddenly ushered in.
She received him with a calm self-possession which astonished herself, and, at the same time, a degree of frigid composure which seemed to imply that the past, both of good and evil, was swept from her mind, that she had to begin again in her acquaintance with him, and meant only to recognise him in future as the doctor, and not the friend. It was in vain that he sat beside her, and in his most winning tones tried to establish confidence between them; she was perfectly calm and composed, but impenetrably grave, yielding to neither tenderness nor gaiety, and he was just rising to go when she made her first suggestive observation, by telling him that she was so much better she should be able to take a drive to-morrow. He assented, of course, if the weather was favorable, and added, that as her sister had no carriage he hoped he might be allowed to take her out in his. With sincere pleasure at being able to decline it, Emma thanked him, assuring him it was quite unnecessary, as Mr. Bridge had promised her his. He looked disappointed; he could not bear that she should have any friends but himself: what would he have felt, had he known the real object of the drive in question.