"I dare say they would not repay the trouble," replied Lady Gordon, "Fanny rather likes to say ill-natured things; I do not attach much credit to her stories in general."
"Upon my word, Rosa, considering she is your very particular friend, I think you speak very freely of her; I wonder whether you discuss my character with equal candour and openness."
"Yours—of course, why should you doubt it—but I think if there is anything to explain, Emma will probably explain it herself—she is so particularly open and straight-forward."
"She is so, indeed; one of the most amiable young women I know; don't be jealous, Rosa, but I like her very much."
Lady Gordon did not seem much troubled by jealousy, and so the affair was settled.
Miss Carr was very well pleased when she learnt what arrangement had been made, and only required to make her perfectly happy to be secure of Lord Osborne's company, as she had a most charming new riding hat, with a lovely plume, which she was certain would make her look bewitching, and place her beyond competition with Emma. Instead, however, of offering to accompany her, his lordship began quarrelling with his sister about the arrangement she had projected. Why was not Miss Watson to ride?—he was certain it would be much better for her than being cooped up in a pony phaeton, where she would have no room for her feet. In the saddle, as it was the right ankle which had been sprained, she would have so much freedom, and he was certain she would enjoy it extremely. Emma, however, protested against this arrangement; another day she would be glad to try a ride, but not this morning; she was too weak, quite unequal to such an exertion. Lord Osborne submitted, but said not a word of himself accompanying Miss Carr; who, therefore, considered it a settled thing. Accordingly, her new hat was arranged in the most becoming style—her long ringlets drawn out to float on her shoulders, and her dainty figure set off to the utmost by her tight fitting riding habit. But all in vain; Sir William was the only cavalier who appeared to wait on her, and he being a married man, was no good at all. She was very sulky, and Sir William had no other pleasure in his ride, than such as he could derive for himself from air and exercise on a beautiful day.
Emma and Lady Gordon fared much better; the fresh air, after confinement to one room, was delicious to the former; and, as her pleasure kept her nearly silent, her companion was not troubled to make herself agreeable either. They drove along, engrossed each by her own thoughts; Emma's wandering down along each sunny glade or green alley in the forest, revelling in the glorious pictures which presented themselves of ancient trees, and groups of deer, sunshine and flickering shadows, deep pools sleeping under precipitous banks tufted with fern and ivy, and crowned with feathery copse wood.
The scenery of Comus seemed exemplified, and she almost expected to see some mysterious forms gliding under the shadows of the forest trees. Lady Gordon's feelings were much more mundane, and more immediately connected with the interests of life. She was reflecting on the visibly growing attachment of her brother, and wondering what would be the result of it. At length she spoke.
"What shall I give you for your thoughts, Miss Watson? I am anxious, I own, to know the subject of them."
"I am thinking," said she, "what a lovely wood this would be to rehearse Comus in; on such an afternoon as this—would it not be effective?"