"And it appears strangest of all to me," observed Robert, contemptuously, "that women never can keep to the point on any subject, but must start off on twenty different branches, which have nothing to do with the end in view. What does it signify to you, Margaret, when, how, or why your conversation was overheard—when, on the fact of its being so, depends your chance of getting two or three thousand pounds in your pocket? What does it matter as to Emma's motive for listening, so long as she did listen to such good purpose?"
Margaret pouted and replied only by some indistinct murmurs.
Her brother then went on to explain to her the circumstance of Miss Osborne's interposition—shewing her, greatly to Emma's annoyance, the letter that morning received from London, and informing her of what he had desired might be written in answer. Margaret's feelings on the occasion, formed a most comic mixture of pleasure and indignation.
She was excessively gratified at being talked about, and made the subject of letters to and from Miss Osborne; and the notion of being plaintiff in an action at law, seemed to have almost as great a charm for her imagination, as being married; but then, she was sorely mortified at the information that Tom Musgrove's infidelity was so open and evident; she was vexed, bitterly vexed, at the idea of a rival; and she could hardly console herself for such an indignity, by the expectation of the damages which were to be awarded her. She looked very foolish and very spiteful when her sister-in-law made some ill-natured observations about overrating the powers of her own charms; and still more so when Robert added:
"That he had no doubt the fellow was drunk when he made the offer, but it did not matter if he was."
Emma was very glad when she had finished her letter, and was able to escape from the subject by quitting the house for a walk with Elizabeth. Jane had some errands for them in the town; but, as soon as they were fulfilled, they were able to turn their steps towards the country, and escaping into green fields and pleasant lanes, refresh their eyes and their tempers by watching for the first appearance of the spring flowers. Such a stroll was a real treat to Emma, and gave her strength to endure the numberless petty annoyances which Mrs. Watson heaped on her. She felt, whilst she could still enjoy a few hours of quiet converse with her sister—still breathe the fresh air of Heaven, and seek the simple, but unalloyed, satisfaction, to be derived from contemplating the works of Providence, that she had still blessings to be thankful for; that her situation, with all its drawbacks, ought still to call forth feelings of gratitude, when compared with the misfortunes of others of her fellow beings; and that it became her to be ready to acknowledge this, lest she should be taught to prize the comforts she still enjoyed by their withdrawal.
With these sentiments in her heart, she strove to act upon them; and when Elizabeth would have turned the conversation, to past times, and reverted to Mr. Howard and his sister, she had the strength of mind to turn away from the dangerous pleasure, and pursue some other topic.
They stayed out rather late—that is to say, they were not in the house till rather more than half past four, and they were to dine at five. They met their sister-in-law on the stairs in a great bustle.
"Oh dear! I have been in such a worry for you, Emma," cried she, "how very tiresome that you should be so late; I want Janetta dressed and her hair curled, and Betsy has not time to attend to it, because she has to dress my head—and here have I been waiting and waiting whilst you have been wandering over the country amusing yourselves without the least regard to me or my comfort."
"I am sorry to have put you to any inconvenience, but I had not the least idea you wanted me," replied Emma, "what can I do for you now?"