Mrs. Watson was so excessively cross after the excitement of last night, that Emma's post in the nursery was really a subject of great self-congratulation to her, for though she did sometimes intrude, and was sure to worry when she did come, still it was better to be secluded from her for several hours as was now the case. In the afternoon, as Emma was walking in a quiet lane on the outskirts of the town, with her little niece, for it was now considered a regular part of her duty to take the little girl out for exercise, she was met by Mr. Morgan returning home on horseback. He immediately stopped to speak to her, and dismounting, placed himself by her side, and proceeded to tell her the result of his mission that morning to Lady Fanny Allston's. He had been very successful: her ladyship had expressed herself very well satisfied with his representations, and had empowered him to say that she should like an interview with Miss Watson on the first convenient opportunity. He proceeded to relate to her all the particulars as to salary, the comfort and the peculiarities of the situation, described the little girl, and, in short, entered into the most minute particulars relative to it.

Emma, considering him as a man old enough to be her father, and thinking no evil herself, felt no hesitation in listening to him, or allowing him to walk beside her. She certainly would not have chosen to confide in him, but since Jane had imparted her situation, she did not scruple to avail herself of the advantage which that knowledge offered to her. They walked a considerable time, for engrossed by the conversation, she did not reflect where they were going, until Janetta's complaints of fatigue, and entreaties to be carried, reminded her that they were a long way from home. Emma prepared to comply with the request of the child in such a manner as showed him immediately that the exertion was habitual with her, but he interposed.

"Surely Janetta you do not want to make your pretty aunt ill," said he to the child; "indeed I consider myself, Miss Watson, called on to prevent that; it is enough to kill you. Janetta shall ride on my horse, that will do as well, will it not?"

But Janetta was afraid of the horse, and cried for aunt Emma to carry her.

"She is so very light," said Emma, "I assure you I can do it with ease."

But Mr. Morgan would not allow of it; he took the little girl in his own arms and they turned their steps homeward. The lane in which they were walking opened on the little garden behind Mr. Watson's house, at which Mr. Morgan privately rejoiced, whilst Emma, unconscious that she had done anything in the least imprudent or remarkable in allowing him to walk with her, felt no other emotion than satisfaction at getting Janetta quietly home. She wished much to speak to her brother that evening about Lady Fanny, but he returned to the office after dinner, and she was obliged to postpone it.

Margaret and Mrs. Watson had an invitation out to tea that night, and in consequence, Emma and Elizabeth spent a comfortable evening together. The former told her sister of her plans, her hopes, and her walk with Mr. Morgan. In the first of these she sympathised sincerely, but when she heard of the latter she looked horrified.

"Surely Emma you never could be so excessively imprudent! Walk tÊte-À-tÊte with Mr. Morgan—what could you be thinking of! Did any one see you?"

"I do not know, I never thought about it—our meeting was quite accidental, Elizabeth, and as he wanted to speak to me, why should I not take that opportunity? I cannot see anything wrong in it: why he is old enough to be my father."

"Your father! what nonsense! he is a single man, and a man at least six ladies want to catch. I hope you were not seen by any one, for depend upon it if you were, the account of your walk will be all over the town to-morrow, and then you will get into a pretty scrape," said Elizabeth with a look of sincere commiseration.

"Why, what harm have I done, Elizabeth?—I am sure I meant none."

"You will have put all the single ladies of Croydon in a passion, that's all, and made yourself the subject of very unpleasant scandal."

"Well I am very sorry," replied Emma quite humbly; "but as I did not go on purpose to meet Mr. Morgan, and I had little Janetta with me, I never thought of there being any harm in it at all."

They were interrupted in their conversation by the entrance of Robert, followed by a supper tray with oysters and porter, for he was determined to enjoy himself in a comfortable way when his wife was out. When he had discussed the oysters and was composedly seated with his feet on the fender and a glass of hot brandy and water in his hand, Emma ventured to open the case to him, and inform him of what she had learnt from Mr. Morgan, and her wishes with regard to engaging in the situation he mentioned. Robert agreed to it very readily; he never had intended to keep a nursery-governess for his daughter. The trouble of educating her, would fall on Jane alone, if Emma left them, but the expense of his sister's maintenance came out of his pocket—therefore, though Mrs. Watson wished to retain her for the value of assistance which she well knew she could obtain under no other circumstances, Robert was quite willing to part with her, as it would be a certain saving to himself, and would give additional trouble only to his wife. He, therefore, gave her his entire approbation, commending her warmly for thinking of exerting herself, as it was the duty of every individual to do; and even promised, with great liberality, to make her a present of a new cloak and bonnet, when she left his house, that her dress might shew her to advantage. At the same time, he gave her strict injunctions not to forget his interests when she was there; to recollect that it was always the duty of each one of the family to help the others forward; and therefore, if, on any occasion, Lady Fanny wanted an agent for her landed property, or needed the advice of a respectable lawyer, it became Emma's duty to say all she could for him.

Emma promised she would take every opportunity in her power to attend to his injunctions; and soon after this, the girls went to bed without waiting to see the others on their return home.

The next morning was ushered in with a violent domestic storm—such as she never remembered to have witnessed before. How it began, Emma did not know, but she was startled, when quietly sitting in the nursery with her niece, by the sound of loud screams which greatly alarmed her.

Little Janetta looked up and said, very innocently, "Mama is in a fit—do you hear? I dare say papa is cross to her."

Anxious to know the cause of the uproar, she ran down stairs, and entering the parlour, the door of which was open, she saw Mrs. Watson stretched on the sofa in a violent fit of hysterics, whilst Elizabeth and Margaret were vainly endeavouring to hold her hands and arms, which she threw about with convulsive energy, whilst her feet kept up a perpetual agitation in a way as far removed from elegance as possible. As her head was turned away from the door, Emma's entrance was unobserved, and her light step was quite unheard by Jane, who continued to scream vociferously.

Fortunately, at that moment, one of the maids observed Mr. Morgan on the opposite side of the street, and running after him, he was soon brought back and introduced to the scene. Whilst he was applying sal volatile and cold water, and soothingly holding the lady's hand, her excitement gradually began to subside; and at length, she was sufficiently recovered to open her eyes and look round her. But the moment she saw Emma standing near, her languid gestures were suddenly changed into looks of rage, and starting up, exclaiming:

"You little ungrateful vixen, I'll teach you to treat me so."

She aimed a violent blow at her, which, had not Mr. Morgan interposed, and with one arm drawn Emma back, whilst on the other he received the slap himself, would probably have been successful in its object.

"My dear girl," he whispered to Emma, as he withdrew the arm he had thrown round her waist to protect her; "you had better leave the room; I must manage her myself."

She readily obeyed the injunction, whilst the doctor, seating Mrs. Watson on the sofa, placed himself by her side; and, still holding her hand in his, he turned to Elizabeth and enquired, in a subdued and melancholy tone, suitable to the occasion, how this sad affair commenced.

Elizabeth's account was not very clear—and, indeed, she was so puzzled and frightened, that had she really understood the case, she would have been at a loss how to explain herself. The facts were these: After breakfast, whilst Elizabeth had been out of the room, Robert had informed his wife that Emma was trying for the situation of governess to Lady Fanny Allston's daughter, with his entire approbation.

This announcement was a severe blow to Jane, who did not at all like losing her services. She argued hard against it, representing the impossibility in her delicate state of health, of her doing justice to Janetta or attending at all to her education; the certainty that no other terms would they get a governess so cheaply, and the probability that the household expenses would shortly be greatly diminished by the marriage, not only of Margaret, but of Elizabeth likewise: but it was all in vain; the advantage was all to himself—the evil only to his wife—so Robert was firm; and even when Jane burst into a passion of tears, and began to shew symptoms of hysterics, he was still obdurate. Suddenly the thought occurred to her, how did Emma learn that the situation was to be procured?—and, at this point, began Elizabeth's knowledge of the affair, for she entered the room just in time to hear the question and to answer it. She explained that Emma had accidentally overheard their conversation, and, consequently, questioned Mr. Morgan about it. This announcement had put the climax to the lady's rage, and brought on the screams and convulsions which had occasioned so much disturbance. Mr. Morgan, however, knew how to manage her.

"My dear madam," said he, in a softly soothing voice; "you know I have forbidden this violent excitement; to people of your nervous temperament, it is decidedly hurtful, and should be avoided. I must give you something to calm you. Miss Watson will be so kind as to bring me a glass of cold water—quite pure water."

"Ah! my dear doctor," sighed the patient, "how could you use me so—join in a conspiracy against me. I am astonished, I did not expect this from you!"

"I, my dear Mrs. Watson! What have I done to deserve such censure?—surely, you are under a delusion! I do not understand you."

"You betrayed about Lady Fanny, when I charged you not, you have been the means of setting my husband cruelly against me; making him take part with that little mischief-making vixen, Emma—"

"There, there," interrupted he, placing one finger on her pulse, "you are agitating yourself again; I must forbid such excessive excitement. Thank you, Miss Watson," taking the glass from Elizabeth, "now please young ladies, open the window a hair's breadth or so, and then leave the room. I always like to have the patient to myself."

Then taking a little case from his pocket, he said: "I have a fine sedative powder here, which I shall give you to calm your nerves," then proceeding to mix something in the glass—which it required a good deal of faith to believe was anything but powdered sugar, he commanded her to sip a little at intervals, and hold it as long as possible in her mouth without swallowing it. Having thus succeeded in stopping her tongue, he proceeded to explain the circumstances of his making Emma acquainted with what he had proposed, taking particular care to allow no blame to rest on her, and saying every thing he could to flatter and soothe Mrs. Watson. "And you see," added he, "was I not quite right in thinking she ought to be removed from you—this may happen again, and it is really too much for you—do you not feel I am right—I am sure your own good sense must prove it—you cannot speak, I know, but press my hand if you agree with me."

It is presumed the pressure was given, as Mr. Morgan seemed satisfied—he raised her hand and looked at it.

"How each slender finger trembles," said he—certainly, there were few who would have applied such an epithet to her plump and powerful hand. "Indeed, it's a very naughty hand," added he, tapping it playfully with the tips of his fingers. "It hit me very hard upon my arm—the hand should be made to pay a forfeit for that; how shall I punish it?"

She smiled languidly.

"I was so provoked, doctor, you must forgive me."

"Forgive you? oh yes, dear madam, only you know, when a lady strikes a gentleman she ought to pay the penalty attached," advancing his face very close to her cheek.

"Oh, fie, doctor," cried she, affecting to be quite shocked, "you are really too bad,—I am ashamed of you quite!" a form of denunciation which would be, in nine cases out of ten, considered as positive encouragement. At this moment the door opened and Robert entered the room.

"Doctor, I say, as Mrs. Watson appears a little better just now, I want to speak to you in my room for a moment."

Mr. Morgan followed him directly; with a sort of dubious feeling as to what was to follow; but he felt rather relieved by the interruption, as he was conscious he had carried his tenderness quite as far as was necessary for the good of his patient. Robert wanted to learn from himself about the situation at Lady Fanny's, and questioned him with some interest on the subject; for in a case where his own interest was in no way involved, he was not exactly an unkind brother. He felt on the whole a tolerable share of anxiety that his sister should be as safe and comfortable as circumstances would admit, and was glad to hear from Mr. Morgan a very favorable account of the family in question. At length, having satisfied all the fraternal doubts and scruples of Mr. Watson, he returned to the lady, and was immediately assailed by a shower of questions relative to what her husband had wanted with him.

He only smiled and said it was nothing bad, but he was far too much used to the enquiries and curiosity of ladies not to be expert at baffling such an attack as hers.

"And now, my dear Mrs. Watson," said he, "I must insist on your keeping your mind easy, and not worrying yourself about such things as the occasion of this attack, it is of serious importance, indeed it is."

"But, doctor, how can I keep my mind easy, when I see that little ungrateful thing there, Emma, coming round my husband and persuading him to contradict me. Is it not enough to provoke a saint, to find one's own husband turned against one by his sister, and that after all the kindness I have shown her; but I knew how it would be from the first, that I did; I always said so from the time those girls entered the house."

"It is very probable, your penetration, my dear friend, might lead you to that conclusion, and you may be right; but in that case, is it not satisfactory to you that there is an immediate prospect of their being removed. Will not Miss Margaret soon be married—does not all the town see that George Millar intends soon, if the lady prove willing, to ally himself to your family. And supposing Emma is likewise removed, you will have nothing left to vex you."

"That may be very true, doctor, but I do not think it is the case; if Emma would only be tractable and obedient, she would be rather useful than otherwise; and really she might be quite a comfort if she were better tempered and more accommodating. But to go and say such things, to be bent on having her own way, without caring about my convenience—to leave me with that child in my hands, never considering my fragile health, and the miseries I suffer, this is really more than I can bear, it puts me in a nervous tremor which is very bad for me. See how my hand shakes still."

"I see," said the gentleman, contenting himself this time with simply looking at the hand extended to him. "But now I must wish you good morning—remember my prescriptions and pray keep quiet."

The rest of the day was spent by Mrs. Watson shut up tÊte-À-tÊte with Margaret, bewailing her hard fate in having such a husband and such a tiresome sister; she would not go down to dinner, but indulged in a quiet little regale in her own bed-room of some dainties of a very superior order to the plain boiled beef and suet pudding, which was the family meal. Her husband took refuge with some friends, and Elizabeth and Emma spent another quiet evening together, during which Elizabeth, with open-hearted warmth, confided to her sister how very much she liked George Millar, and how sanguine were her hopes that George Millar did not dislike her. She had seen a great deal more of him than Emma, for their walk to the farm had only been the precursor of several others to different places, and they had enjoyed them all exceedingly. He had not actually proposed to her yet, but he had both said and done things which led her to expect that such a termination to their acquaintance was in his contemplation. All this was truly the subject of rejoicing to Emma, especially as she was convinced from what she had both seen and heard of George Millar, that he was not a man to draw back from an implied engagement, and hold himself privileged to carry his actions to any point of particularity, provided he never committed himself by word. It was true, had it been her taste to be consulted, she would have preferred a quieter person, one more inclined to study and literature, and in every respect more refined; but Elizabeth would indeed be well matched, and the happiness of thinking this, led her to reflect with pleasure even on their visit at Croydon, painful as it had been to herself in most respects.