There was no time for more, but with a gentle pressure which made the blood thrill from her hands up to her heart, he rose and quitted her abruptly, escaping just quickly enough through one window to avoid being seen, as Lady Gordon and Mrs. Musgrove entered at another.
Emma remained in a state of feeling which she would have found it exceedingly difficult to describe, such was the confusion in her mind at the moment. Her most prominent idea was, however, disappointment that he had said so little. She really believed he loved her—at least that he intended her to suppose it; but why not speak more plainly, or why speak at all? It would be so very hard to meet him after what had passed, in the same way as formerly; and yet, how could she avoid it? There seemed no possibility, however, of his doing anything but explaining himself the very first opportunity—surely he could not hesitate longer, and all would then be right.
But with these contradictory notions in her mind, and the agitation to which they gave rise evident in her face, it was impossible for her manners to be sufficiently composed, not to attract her friend's notice. Lady Gordon thought she was in pain, and accused her of having been attempting to move; which she attributed to the fact of Sir William having gone out and left her alone; Emma defended both Sir William and herself as well as she could, forcing herself to speak cheerfully, and denying all accession of pain or efforts at improper exertion.
Margaret, throwing herself on an easy chair, declared that she was perfectly exhausted by the heat and the fatigue of their walk, and she quite wondered how Lady Gordon could bear so much exertion.
"But I really believe that I am more delicate and sooner tired than any woman in the world. I have never been accustomed to hard work."
Lady Gordon did not trouble herself to assert that neither had she, but quietly observed that she was sorry Mrs. Musgrove had tired herself.
"Do you see much of your brother, Lady Gordon?" enquired Margaret.
"Yes, when he is with me," she answered.
"I hope he is pleasanter than mine, then," observed Margaret, "or else it must be a prodigious bore."
"I dare say, they are not alike," said Lady Gordon, who was existing in a state of incessant surprise at the conversation of Margaret.