Gradually as Miss Watson became hardened to the consciousness of being listened to by Lord Osborne, her faculties returned; and though at his first entrance she could not have told how young chickens should be fed, before the expiration of half an hour she was equal to imparting to her companion the deepest mysteries of the poultry yard.
Whilst they were thus sitting, quiet and composed, Charles Willis suddenly rushed into the room and took up his station close to Emma's work-table.
"Why, Charles," said Lord Osborne, "don't you see me—aren't you going to speak to me this morning," and he laid a firm grasp, as he spoke, on Charles's coat collar, and drew the boy towards himself.
"I beg your pardon, my lord, I really did not see you," replied Charles, twisting his person in the vain hope of eluding his lordship's grasp, and keeping his place.
"I say, Charles," continued the young man, "how comes it lessons are over so early this morning—a holiday—hey—or uncle lazy—I thought you never finished till noon?"
"Oh no, we have been very industrious," Charles answered; "we both worked as hard as we could to get lessons over because we wanted to come early into the drawing-room as the Miss Watsons were here."
"But you don't mean to say you like the Miss Watsons better than Latin grammar—or Greek verbs—that's impossible altogether."
Charles laughed.
"Are you so fond of the Latin grammar, my lord?" asked he, slyly.
"I! oh no; but then I learnt all mine long ago; and since I survived the flogging, I dare say it did me no harm. But now tell me," added he, in a whisper, quite distinct enough for every one in the room to hear, "was it you or your uncle who was in the greatest hurry: or does not he like the Miss Watsons as well as you, Charles."