"I do not know of what uncle you are speaking," said Mr. Howard, in a manner that denoted his interest in her connections; "you forget that I know almost nothing of your family."
"The uncle who brought me up; Dr. Maitland."
"Then you were not educated at Winston?"
"I—oh no—my home was formerly in my uncle's house—I have not been more than two months resident in my father's family."
"I dare say you think me a very stupid fellow for not being aware of this—but though I saw you were different from your sisters, and indeed most of the young ladies of the neighbourhood, the reason never occurred to me."
"You thought, I suppose, I was a sort of Cinderella," said Emma laughing, "let out by some benevolent fairy on the occasion of one ball, and that having once escaped into public, I could not be repressed again."
"You know I had not been in your father's house, and had therefore no reason to assign you an imaginary abode in the kitchen, in preference to the parlour, where I had never been. But I own I was surprised by your sudden apparition, since I had neither in ball-room or street, town or country, seen or heard of more than three Miss Watsons."
"I can easily believe it—so protracted an absence will naturally sink one's name in oblivion."
"May I ask if you are to return to your uncle's house?"
"Alas! no—my dear, kind uncle died not quite a twelvemonth ago—my aunt has left England to settle in Ireland—and my home is now at my father's."