"That is so pretty a speech I can do no less than say in reply, that we shall be most happy whenever Mr. Howard will indulge us with the honour of his company: come whenever you can—the day after to-morrow Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove dine with us, will you meet them?"
He accepted with pleasure, though perhaps he would have preferred their absence to their company.
After loitering away a couple of hours on his lawn, Lady Gordon rose to take her leave, and even then she pressed him so earnestly to accompany them up the hill, to assist Miss Watson, who she was certain was fatigued by her long walk, that he could not have refused had it been an unpleasant task she was imposing on him, instead of the thing which he liked best in the world, and was really wishing to do.
The encouragement which he received from Lady Osborne herself was so obvious, that had his suit depended only on her, he would have felt neither fear nor hesitation as to the result; but as the wishes and tastes of another person were to be consulted, and there seemed far more doubt as to the direction which those took, he still debated whether or not he should venture to put his influence to the proof, and rest all his hopes on a single effort.
He accompanied them home, but Emma denied that she was tired, and would not accept the assistance of his arm, because she misinterpreted the hesitation with which it was offered, fancying it was done unwillingly, and solely in compliance with her friend's directions. This discouraged him; he did not recover from the disappointment, and in consequence would not enter the Castle, but persisted in returning to spend a solitary evening at the vicarage. There Emma's smile and Emma's voice perpetually recurred to his fancy, and he occupied himself, whilst finishing the work which they had interrupted, in recalling every word which she had said, and the exact look which had accompanied each speech.
CHAPTER VII.
The next morning at breakfast, one letter amongst many which Lady Gordon received, appeared to excite considerable surprise, and some other sensation nearly allied to discontent. She read it over, and then threw it down before her husband, with an exclamation:
"Only see there!"
"Why, what is it that clouds your brow so, Rosa?" replied he, looking at the letter without touching it, or interrupting himself in the process of dissecting a cold fowl.
"Just look at that letter;" said she, "have you no curiosity?" she added, seeing he did not take it up.