“Yes,” she replied, with a presence of mind worthy of a better cause—for she felt it was what is vulgarly called “neck or nothing”—“yes, it was so dull, that I could not bear it long. All my humanity and kindness for poor old Mrs. Haight could not stand her prosing; so I left mamma there, and went into Ellen’s—they live next door, you know.”
“Hawthorn said you apologized for me, saying I was engaged,” he continued, not yet quite satisfied.
“I said nothing of the kind,” she said, feeling that her only resource was to deny this in toto. “What could Mr. Hawthorn be thinking of? I said you were going to the club.”
His countenance cleared immediately; indeed, he was angry, and despised himself that he could have been uneasy, or doubted her for a moment. He grew animated and cheerful, and asked so pleasantly who she had met there, that, excited by her success, or “escape,” as she would have called it, she mentioned the gentlemen, among whom she even boldly named Mr. Cooper, who had been Miss Pearsall’s guests.
“Emma,” he said, after a moment’s pause, “perfect confidence must exist where there is perfect affection; so I will be frank with you at once. I do not like that gentleman’s manner toward you. It seems to me as if there were some secret between you;” and he fixed his searching eyes upon her with an inquiring expression.
She felt now that he had seen too much to be satisfied of the contrary, even if she denied it; so she said,
“Well, to be frank with you, there is something between us; but as it is not a secret of mine—I do not know that I am authorized to tell even you of it.”
He looked grave, as he replied,
“Certainly, if it is the secret of another, I have no right, nor wish, even, to inquire further. But I hope in future, Emma, you may have no secrets, even of others, from which I am excluded.”
It was half affectionately, half gravely said; and Emma promised most fully to have no reserves from him henceforth.