"It is only dependent on yourself—but if you have more agreeable engagements, of course it is natural you should defer this one. Whenever you wish it, will you let we know?"
"Do you suppose it to be a more agreeable engagement lying prisoner here?" replied Emma smiling; "our tastes must differ more than I had fancied they would if you do so."
"You did not use to be indolent, I know," replied he; "but no doubt it is far more like modern fashionable manners to pass the day on a sofa than in active pursuits."
"Now do not be satirical, Mr. Howard," said she in a lively tone; "I never was, and I hope I never shall be converted into a fashionable fine lady, and my lying on the sofa has nothing to do with indolence or inclination."
"Indeed!" he replied, with a provoking air of incredulity.
"Yes, indeed and indeed—I assure you it is a downright punishment to me, only alleviated by the kindness of my friends in trying to amuse me."
Mr. Howard glanced at Lord Osborne, as if he attributed the friendship and the amusement alike to him.
"No, you are wrong there—I dare say his lordship is afraid I should be spoilt if I had too much indulgence, so he contents himself with disarranging my flowers and contradicting my opinions: I really must trouble you, my lord, for the bud you stole," she added turning to him; "I cannot do without it."
"And I cannot possibly let you have it," replied he abruptly; "it's gone, I shall not tell you where."
"Now is not that too provoking!" cried Emma; "with all his conservatories and gardens at command, to envy me my single sprig which Sir William took so much trouble in procuring me. I had a particular value for it on his account, and having sketched it into this group: I must have it, or the whole will be spoilt."