The next day Mr. Watson was taken seriously ill; and though he lingered for some weeks, his daughters were almost completely cut off from all social intercourse.

Towards Christmas he died.

Everything was overshadowed by the sense of loss; but Emma found that she could be still more lonely, when, on receipt of a kind letter from Mrs. Blake, she learned that she had taken a house in London, in order to put Charles to school; and that Mr. Howard had been called to Cumberland to the bedside of a relative who had had a stroke.

The Osbornes had gone abroad.

The clergyman who had been doing duty for Mr. Watson, had been appointed to the parish; but with great consideration had begged them not to move till the following March; so that they might have sufficient leisure to dispose of their furniture, and to make their arrangements.

Penelope had returned for some time, and Emma had learned to dread the sound of her sharp voice. She and Margaret quarrelled perpetually. There seemed never to be any peace in the house. Her ill-humour was aggravated by her friends, the Shaws, having secured a situation for her as assistant teacher in a private seminary; for not only was she averse to this position, but she felt, even more keenly, that it was a tacit acknowledgment of the fatal obduracy of the heart, she had wasted so much time in endeavouring to subdue.

Margaret had got an engagement as companion to a delicate girl.

Emma's case was the hardest. She was to find her home with Robert and Jane, who openly discussed her prospects of making a good match. In vain she pleaded her desire to take a situation, like her sisters. Robert would not hear of it. She had already received ill-treatment enough from her family, he affirmed, and he would do his best to give her a good chance. Even Elizabeth joined her voice to her brother's.

"You do not know what you would suffer as governess or companion. Your beauty would be for ever making you enemies."

Emma could say no more while her brother was present, but when she found herself alone with Elizabeth, she besought her to aid her in getting a post where she might earn her bread independently.

"My position with Robert and Jane would not be tolerable," she pleaded.

"Do not stand in your own light, dear Emma," Elizabeth replied; "your position would be much worse with strangers. Robert and Jane will both be kind to you if you do not offend them. They were not too well pleased by your refusing to go with them in October; and now that Lord Osborne has admired you, they are all for having you. Believe me, it will be the best thing for you."

"Anyway, I shall stay here until March."

"Yes—Robert has consented to that—and as Penelope and Margaret are to go to their situations in February, we can have a little time in peace to ourselves."

To Elizabeth alone did there come any prospect of happiness.

Mr. Purvis, now a widower, had been engaged by Mr. Howard to do duty for him; and, on learning that Miss Watson was as handsome as ever, considered it to be his duty to call as soon as circumstances permitted.

His earlier feelings for her were very soon revived, and although he could not immediately enter into an engagement with her, on account of his recent bereavement, it was quite evident to all that the old relations between them would be happily restored.

In the meantime it was arranged that Elizabeth should go to his aunt as companion.

His marriage had not been happy, which is scarcely to be wondered at, seeing that he had entered somewhat hastily into it in order to assuage his feelings of disappointment; and as his wife shortly afterwards fell into ill-health, matters had been scarcely brightened by the peevish temper of an invalid.

The more Emma saw of him, the better was she pleased with him. He was good-looking and gentlemanlike, with unaffected manners, and a pleasant countenance. She could not but feel confident that Elizabeth would be happy at his side.

Towards the end of February, Mr. Howard returned, and lost no time in riding over to Stanton. Unfortunately, however, as he drew near to the Rectory gate, he met Tom Musgrave coming out of it, and was instantly hailed by that gentleman.

"Upon my word, Howard, I thought you had taken root in Cumberland. Oh, a sad break up here!—monstrous pleasant girls as ever I met! Miss Emma is going to Croydon with her brother, and I hear is shortly to be married to an old flame. Oh, a famous little flirt, I can assure you!"

So saying, and waving his hand, he took himself off, laughing heartily at his own ingenuity.

In consequence therefore of this unwelcome intelligence, Mr. Howard merely called at the door; and, ignoring Nanny's information that the ladies were in, rode gloomily away.

Emma had watched his approach from an upper window, and blushed and blushed again.

She was pausing before coming down, in the endeavour to quell the beating of her heart, when to her surprise she heard the clattering of his horse's hoofs; and, running back to the window, saw him vanishing round the corner.

At first she was all disappointment, and did not know what to think. Tears gathered thickly in her eyes, and fell on her black dress. But presently she considered that he might perhaps think it right to call at first without coming in, on account of her father's death, and that he would come again.

But he never came again, and about a week later she was carried away to Croydon by her brother, who had returned for her.