His departure, which Emma had thought most unnecessarily delayed, left her at liberty to think about Mr. Bridge's promised visit; she had long to wait, he came delighted to see her better, and quite willing to acknowledge that she might be removed the next day. The necessary arrangements he undertook to make; he could send his sister word that she might expect them, and he determined to drive over the whole way himself, and spend one night at her house. He likewise agreed to go and inform her own brother and his wife of what was about to take place, and thereby save Emma all excitement, if the information should happen to be ill received.
Accordingly, in persuance of this plan, he paid Mrs. Watson a visit before leaving the house, and in answer to his gentle tap at the door, received an invitation to enter, which brought him into an extremely untidy and heated parlour. Jane was sitting over the fire with her feet on the fender, her gown turned up over her knees, and her petticoat emitting a strong smell of scorching, which almost overpowered him. She was reading a work of some kind, which she hid behind her when she saw her visitor, whilst she tried to arrange her hair and cap in a rather less slatternly way. Margaret was busy trimming a hat with white satin ribbons, and judging from the shreds of white materials of divers kinds lying beside her, had been deeply engrossed in the dress-making or millinery line. After sitting a few minutes, Mr. Bridge enquired if he could see Mr. Watson, and though his wife was quite certain it was impossible, it so happened that Robert entered at that very time.
"I am so glad to see you," said Mr. Bridge on shaking hands with him, "I wanted to get your leave to carry off your youngest sister."
"What, Emma?" said Robert, "why she's ill I understand."
"She is better to-day," replied he, "but she wants change of air and scene, and I want to get it for her."
"Why, what new fancy of hers is this?" exclaimed Mrs. Watson, "that girl's head is always full of some strange vagary or another; it's only the other day she would not walk out, and now she's wanting to go away, and she keeping her bed and pretending to be ill."
"Where do you want to take her to?" enquired Robert, unheeding his wife's speech.
"Why, my sister wishes for a companion, and I think they would suit each other very well; and it really appears to me that she feels the confinement and application necessary in her present mode of life too much for her."
"My dear Mr. Bridge," cried Mrs. Watson in a fawning tone, "don't you, please, believe that she is a prisoner, or acting under compulsion; I am sure you would have too much regard for me to go and set such a story about—only think what my feelings would be were such a story circulated about my dear husband's sister."
"I did not mean to say anything to hurt your feelings, Mrs. Watson," replied the clergyman coolly, "but you cannot deny that your sister-in-law has been ill, and that at present she is incapable of continuing her labors as governess to your little girl: I do not exaggerate in that statement."