"Then you will not think of walking, I presume; shall you Emma?"
"I am not sure," replied she, "is it not very dirty!"
"Good gracious, Emma!" cried Margaret sharply, "I hope you are not such a fine lady as to mind stepping out in a little mud, or what is to become of me—I cannot bear walking alone, and Elizabeth is sure to be busy when I want her company."
"Perhaps," said Emma gently, rather afraid of giving offence by suggesting so evident a duty, "if we were to help Elizabeth, she would have done in time to join you and enjoy the fine weather."
"I don't suppose she wants us a bit," cried Margaret again.
"Thank you, Emma," replied her eldest sister, without listening to Margaret, "but do not put off your walk on my account, I am used to these things, and mind the trouble no more than you do threading your needle, or finding your place in a book," and taking her key-basket from the table, she left the room.
"There, I told you so," said Margaret immediately, "I knew Elizabeth disdains all assistance, and hates to be interfered with in her housekeeping: she is as jealous of her authority as possible, and I believe would rather go through any trouble herself, than allow us to share it for half an hour. Now just make haste, do, and put your pelisse on; I like the finest part of the day."
Emma still hesitated—
"I am not sure that I can go with you—perhaps my father may want me."
"My father want you!" repeated Margaret in a tone of astonishment, and with a look of surprise and incredulity, which Emma thought the announcement did not justify, "why what in all the world should he want you for?"