The beaming countenance of the beautiful sylph darkened in a moment, like a cosmoramic landscape. "And why not?" returned she, pettishly; "I suppose, then, you don't approve."
"My approbation can be of very little import, if you possess that of your own heart, and that of your husband. Under what character, pray, does he attend you? I suppose he plays Oberon to your Titania?"
Emily's face reddened. Some strong emotion heaved her bosom, and I saw that pride alone kept the starting tears from overflowing. "Charles," said she, with an attempt at assumed indifference, "will not be there at all; I am to go with Lady Forrester."
We felt more vexed than ever, and wished to say something which might yet hinder the young wife's intention; but while considering what that something should be, or whether, indeed, our age and slight relationship gave a sufficient right to say anything, we looked down for a moment on our still open book. Of that moment Emily availed herself to effect an escape, and on raising our eyes we only caught a glimpse of her glittering wings as she glided through the doorway. Our first impulse was to recall her; our next thought, to leave her to herself. If her better nature still struggled, remonstrance of ours, we considered, might only serve to set wounded pride against it; and wounded passions, like wounded bravoes, fight most desperately. We saw no more of our young hostess till the hour of dinner, to which we sat down to a tête-à-tête. Emily's sweet face had regained all its usual expression of good humour, and by almost an excess of attention, and an effort at more than ordinary liveliness, she strove to make amends for the slight ebullition of temper stirred up by the morning's incident; but her sociability seemed forced, and we felt that our own was much of the same description.
Our after-dinner sitting was soon ended for an evening stroll. It had been a sultry day towards the end of August; the lazy zephyrs had been all asleep since noontide; so, with a view to meet the first of them which should happen to be stirring, we directed our steps towards a high open heath, or common. Its summit was crowned by a magnificent beech, towards which we slowly ascended, under a shower of darts levelled by the declining sun; and, on arriving at the tree, were right glad to seat ourselves on the circular bench which surrounded its smooth and bulky bole.
Here, in addition to the welcome boons of rest and shade, we were presented gratis with the exhibition of a finer panorama, than the Messrs. Barker ever yet produced.
What a scene of tranquil splendour lay before us! one of those glowing pictures of the declining day and declining year, whereon, like a pair of dying painters, they seem to have combined their utmost skill and richest colours in order to exceed, in a last effort, all the productions of their meridian prime.
After a few moments of silent admiration, we were on the point of exclaiming to our young companion, "Oh! who could prefer the most brilliant ball-rooms to a scene like this?" but we checked the impulse; for perhaps, thought we, the "still small voice," which speaks from all around us, is even now whispering to her heart. But never, we believe, was adder more deaf to the accents of the "charmer" than was Emily at that moment to those of nature. Her mind, we are pretty sure, was still running, and all the faster as she approached it, on that fancy ball. Perhaps she suspected that ours was following the same turn, and knowing of old our habit of making observations upon insects, she, by a little womanly artifice, availed herself of it to divert their course. Pointing with her parasol to a long procession of brown ants, which were crossing the foot-worn area beneath the tree,—"Look," said she, "I suppose they are going home to bed."
"Or perhaps to a ball," rejoined we, "quite unable to resist the pleasure of taking our fair cousin in her own ruse; but let us follow them, and see."
Emily was delighted at having, as she thought, so ingeniously set us on our hobby, and attended us to the spot whither we had traced the little labourers. Their populous settlement bore no appearance of evening repose. Other trains were approaching in various directions, to meet that which we had followed, and a multitude was covering the conical surface of, the ant-hill, as if taking a farewell bask in the glowing sunset. Amidst the congregated many, and distinguished from the common herd by very superior bulk and four resplendent wings, were several individual ants, which Emily (as well she might) mistook for flies, and inquired accordingly what could be their business in such incongruous society. "They are no flies," said we, "but ants themselves—female ants,—though with somewhat of the air, certainly, of being in masquerade or fancy costume. But say what we will of their attire, we must needs confess that they are in their proper places; for they are the matrons of the community, and, as we see, they are at home."