Mrs. Hubback Hubback - The Younger Sister

"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.

"Well, Emma," cried Elizabeth, "I should like to know what you have been doing all this time—what an age you have been gone!"

"Looking at pictures, Elizabeth—you know what I went for."

"I know what you went for indeed, but how do I know what you stayed for. Pictures indeed—looking at pictures for two hours and a half—and in the dark too!"

Emma laughed.

"Of what do you suspect me, Elizabeth?" cried she as her sister placed a candle so as to throw the light on her face.

"Which have you been flirting with?" said Elizabeth taking her sister's hand, and closely examining her countenance. "The peer or the parson, which of your two admirers do you prefer?"

"How can you ask such an unnecessary question?" returned Emma, blushing and laughing, yet struggling to disengage herself, "would you hesitate yourself—is not Lord Osborne the most captivating, elegant, lively, fascinating young nobleman who ever made rank gracious and desirable. Would

you

not certainly accept him?"

"Why yes, I think I should—it would be something to be Lady Osborne—mistress of all those rooms and servants, carriages and horses. I think I should like it, but then I shall never have the choice!"

"So far as I am concerned, I do not think I shall interfere with your power of accepting him—if he makes you an offer, do not refuse it on my account."

"Very well—and when I am Lady Osborne, I will be very kind to Mrs. Howard—I will send and ask her to dine with me most Sundays, and some week days too."

"I hope she will like it."

"I will give her a new gown at Easter, and a pelisse or bonnet at Christmas!"

"Your liberality is most exemplary, but in the midst of your kind intentions to Mrs. Howard, I fear you are forgetting Mrs. Willis and her dinner. If you do not finish your dressing quickly you will keep them waiting."

Elizabeth took her sister's advice, and finished her toilette with all possible despatch. It was singular that though invariably consuming double the time that sufficed for Emma, the result of her efforts in adjusting her clothes was much less satisfactory. She never looked

finished

. Her hair was certain to fall down too low; or her gown burst open, or her petticoat peeped out from underneath: she was always finding a string, or a button, or a loop wanting, just when such a loss was particularly inconvenient—always in a hurry, always behind hand, always good-naturedly sorry, but always as far from amendment.

The evening was spent in quiet comfort, far removed from the stately grandeur of the yester-night's scene—they closed round the fire, chatting and laughing, cracking nuts and eating home-baked cakes with a zest which Osborne Castle and its lordly halls could not rival. They talked of the snow melting, and Charles and his uncle too persisted in the greatest incredulity on that subject. A hundred other things were discussed, made charming by the ease and good-humour with which they were canvassed, and then a book was produced. Shakespeare was placed in Mr. Howard's hands, and he read with a degree of feeling and taste, which made it very delightful to his listeners. Thus the evening passed peacefully and quickly, and when they separated for the night, it was with encreased good will and affection between the parties.

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