"You are too bad, Miss Watson," replied he laughing.
"I think you wrong me—you should say too good, in thus readily allowing your claim to superior merit."
"Well, but now tell me, do you think Miss Osborne so very clever?"
"I must decline discussing that point, being incapable of forming a judgment on the subject."
"Am I to infer that you do not like me?" enquired he doubtfully.
"By no means—all I can allow you to infer from my silence is, that Miss Osborne has been, voluntarily, so very kind to me, that she deserves my gratitude, but that I have seen too little of her to warrant my forming an opinion as to her talents or abilities."
"Do you think her pretty?"
"Exceedingly so," replied Emma warmly; "it is a countenance that improves on one so very much—surely you must admire her."
Sir William did not return a direct answer, and Emma suspected that he would have been more ready with a reply, had his admiration been merely superficial. Yet it had struck her that Miss Osborne's manner to him was uncertain and capricious, as if she did not wish to give him encouragement, or was trying to play with his feelings, whilst Sir William, instead of seeking to overcome this, appeared rather desirous of amusing himself with some other objects.
She began to think she was the subject of some spell, destined to be the puppet of one or other of her companions, who seemed continually acting towards her some part which she could not understand. Perhaps they were all trifling with her feelings, or amusing themselves at her expense by giving her encouragement which induced her to enter society decidedly above what was her proper situation.