On being answered that it was his sister, he civilly apologised for not having known her, which, as he had never seen her before, he remarked, was not wonderful; but Elizabeth ought to have introduced him before he sat down, as really the gout made it extremely difficult to move across the room. Elizabeth did not think it necessary to justify herself by informing him, that it was only owing to the self-engrossment and bustle attending his progress and settlement in his arm-chair, that her attempt at an introduction had been thwarted; indeed, Miss Watson was so little used to such ceremonies as to have seized precisely the most inauspicious moment for speaking, and having been foiled in her first essay, sat down without trying again.
Mrs. Willis, however, made it all easy, and soothed Mr. Watson's discomposure at such a breach of etiquette, by the good-natured and respectful manner in which she now addressed him.
Whilst they were sitting in pleasant chat, Tom Musgrove again appeared amongst them. Emma really began to hate the sight of him on Margaret's account, as her sister's manners whilst in his company, cost her many blushes; and her increase of fretfulness after his departure occasioned discomfort to the whole party. It was a great gratification to her to discover from Mr. Watson's manner, that he was very far from looking on Tom Musgrove as the amiable and elegant gentleman that he aspired to be considered, and she even fancied that her father did not receive him simply as an inoffensive guest; on the contrary, he seemed annoyed at his visit, and inclined to regard it as an intrusion.
"Well master Tom," said he, "what foolish thing have you been doing lately?—breaking any more horses' knees or dinner-engagements—your genius cannot have been idle since I saw you last—let's hear all about it."
"No indeed sir," replied Tom; "I have been doing nothing worth chronicling, at least to such a judge as you. I have had my own little amusements, but they are not worth detailing. By the bye Howard, I dare say Osborne did not tell you how completely I beat him at Fives the other day: he's a good player too—but didn't I astonish him."
"Lord Osborne seldom entertains me with accounts of his sports, whether defeated or victorious," replied Mr. Howard, coolly.
"When you have the gout in your foot even twice as bad as I have," observed Mr. Watson, "it will be consolatory to you to remember that you could once beat Lord Osborne at Fives."
"Aye sir, I dare say I shall have my turn by-and-bye, I expect to have it early—Osborne tells me his father had it at five-and-twenty. It's an aristocratic complaint."
"Unless you have reason to suppose the late Lord Osborne was your father likewise," resumed Mr. Watson drily, "I don't see what either his gout or his aristocracy have to do with you."
"Do you feel any symptoms already?" whispered Margaret; "you really ought to take care of yourself—who would be so much missed if you were laid up with that dreadful disorder! and who would you get to nurse you in your hours of suffering?"