He advanced towards her, and not satisfied with taking the hand which she extended to him, he saluted her on the cheek with considerable warmth, and detaining her hand, he stared her in the face with a look of admiration which was quite offensive to her.
"Upon my word, Emma, you are looking more lovely than ever, blooming and fresh. I need not ask how you are—those bright eyes and roses speak volumes. I am glad to see you, indeed I am."
"Thank you," said Emma, turning away her head and struggling to release the hand which he retained with a most decided grasp; "I am glad to see you and Margaret looking so well."
"Oh! Margery there—yes, I dare say, she is well enough—but, as for me, I am sure it must be something miraculous, if I am any thing remarkable in that way"—he glanced at his wife and shrugged his shoulders with an air that excited disgust, not pity, in Emma.
"And so you are come to enliven us, Emma,—that's monstrous good of you, 'pon my honor. I hope you are going to stay here some time."
"You are very kind," replied she, "but I am staying with Lady Gordon, and only came over here for a short visit to Margaret."
"So there, you see," cried Mrs. Musgrove, "my relations are as much noticed at the castle as you are; so you need not plume yourself so much on that head, Tom!"
"I do not wonder that Sir William likes to have a pretty girl to stay with him," replied Tom, again staring at Emma, who coloured highly with indignation at his impertinence. "Ah! ha! how you blush," added he, coming close to her and attempting to pinch her cheek, which she, however, avoided. "Why, how monstrous coy you are," exclaimed he, "what! are you afraid of me?—fie, fie—you are my sister, and should have no naughty ideas in your head."
"I will trouble you, Tom, to leave my sister alone; I do not approve of your taking personal liberties with her; be so good as to treat her with the respect which is due to a relative of mine," exclaimed Margaret, half rising from her sofa to speak with greater energy.
"Ha! ha! so you are jealous Margery," said Tom, throwing himself on a seat beside Emma, and rolling about with laughter, "that's a good joke 'pon my soul—a capital joke, indeed—to be sure, considering all things—it's natural enough; but really, I cannot help laughing at it—indeed, I cannot, though I beg your pardon, Emma, for doing so."