"Did she say so indeed," said Emma with exemplary gravity.
"I don't mean to say she used those very words—she thought them, though, I'm sure, by her look."
"But now, my lord, we must wish you good evening, or Mrs. Willis will be waiting for dinner; and though I am not afraid of her swearing at us, I do not wish to annoy her."
"Ah, yes, Mrs. Willis is mistress—I know—the Parson there, like myself, is under petticoat government; nothing like a mother or sister to keep one in order. I'll be bound a wife is nothing to it. One cannot get away from a sister, and one can't make her quiet and obedient—you see she has never undertaken anything of the kind, as I understand wives do when one marries them."
"But I have heard, my lord, that they sometimes break their word and rebel," said Emma with mock solemnity.
"Ah, but that must be the husband's fault, he gives them too much rein—keep a strict hand on them, that's my maxim."
"I recommend you, however, to keep it a secret, if you wish to find a wife; I assure you no woman would marry you if she knew your opinion."
"Seriously—well but I am sorry I said so then."
"Oh, never mind—there is no harm done as yet—I promise not to betray you—but here we are at Miss Osborne's room, will she expect us to look in—or shall we go straight home, Mr. Howard?"
"We'll see if Rosa's here," said her brother, opening the door as he spoke. The room, however, was empty, and there was nothing to be done but return home. Emma was vexed to find the young peer persisted in escorting them. Though his conversation had been much shorter than Mr. Howard's, she was far more weary of it. To hurry her walk, was her only remedy, and the coldness of the air was a plausible excuse for this. The space which had occupied nearly half an hour in ascending, was now traversed in five minutes, and breathless but glowing, the party reached the door of the parsonage. Here Lord Osborne was really obliged to leave them, and Emma hastened to her room to prepare for dinner.