"Don't ask me," said Emma; "I should probably advise something wild and unheard of—such as either letting her have her own way, or putting a decided negative on the whole affair at once."
"I believe I must do that. It is so very unreasonable a plan; in this country picnics and fête-champêtres for ladies and gentlemen are almost quite certain to end in rain, spoilt bonnets, wet feet, and bad colds; besides, I do not approve of her acting, or yours, or any lady's, and shall certainly not countenance it with my assistance. But Rosa did wish it so very much, I am sure I shall not have the courage to refuse her."
"You do injustice to your own strength of mind and firmness of purpose, Sir William," said Emma laughingly; "you can be as positive and decided as any one, when you please, though you take so much credit to yourself for your amiable softness."
"And you recommend me to enforce my authority?"
"And you expect me to give an opinion between man and wife—one which would make you both my enemies; I am not quite so wild as that!"
"Did you see Osborne out riding to-day? I presume he went off with you, as he would not come with us."
"He overtook us," said Emma, "and rode a little way with us; what a pretty horse he rides."
"He wants you to mount that—shall you have courage or strength to-morrow?"
Emma rather demurred.
"It is very gentle, you need not be afraid, I know it well; but you need not do it if you do not like. Have you been used to horse exercise?"