CHAPTER XIV
All settled down, and four out of the five were, as Mr Howard had predicted, truly comfortable. Elizabeth had two causes of disquiet. Firstly, she was in a house of strangers, where even more alarming strangers might be announced at any hour. Secondly, she was not at home, and had good reason from past experience to doubt whether Mr Watson and his daughter Margaret could, or would, dine together with any degree of comfort, the more so as she feared that the dinner prepared without her supervision would not conduce to their good-humour. However, no one was announced; a pleasant visit was paid to the nursery; dinner, despite the vicinity of Osborne Castle, was at an hour no later than that to which they were accustomed, and afterwards, when they were settled in the parlour, helping Mrs Blake to make small silk bags, which Mr Howard and Charles filled with pot-pourri, she felt almost at her ease.
Charles enquired of his uncle as to how long the storm would last, and on being answered seemed for once to doubt Mr Howard’s judgment, having for his own opinion that the storm might well last a week, and that it would be so pleasant to keep the Miss Watsons. Turning to Emma he demanded:
“Would it not be delightful?”
Emma hesitated, and was saved from further confusion by Mrs Blake saying:
“We will keep them as long as we can, Charles.”
Elizabeth, having gained some degree of confidence, felt the need of establishing it, and was beginning to fix it on her mind that no one could call in such weather, when a loud knock at the door made her certain of the worst. But no denizen of the Castle followed the maid-servant, who brought only a note for Mr Howard. After glancing at it, he promptly sat down to the writing-table, wrote, folded and sealed a letter, and handed it to the maid. Then, turning to the party, he said:
“A note from Lady Osborne to invite, or shall I say require, my presence this evening to make up her card-table. I have declined.”
“How glad I am!” cried his sister. “Such a night to ask you out, though only across the park! But the Miss Watsons’ company affords a sufficient apology even to Lady Osborne.”
“It is a sufficient one to myself,” said Mr Howard.
“We hear virtue has its own reward,” said Emma, “and your hospitality to us is now repaid in kind. You would not let us encounter the snow, and it is but just that you should be spared yourself.”
“Well, Edward, I should be glad if you had a living in the next county; for you must know, Miss Watson, that the Castle is too near for our convenience. We are under obligations which neither party can forget, and Edward is compelled to sacrifice a great deal of time to the whims of the great lady. You have no idea how exacting she is, and if my brother were not one of the best-tempered of men, we never could go on as well as we do.”
Here was food for wonder to Elizabeth. The Osbornes, though noble, were not perfect; the Howards, with their good house, income, and connections, had like others their own grievances, and cherished those hopes of improving their lot which form the principal charm of life to more than half the world.
“You must remember,” said Mr Howard, “that Lady Osborne presented me to the living, and certainly means kindly.”
“That is quite the right thing for you to say, but neither gallantry nor gratitude have the same claim on me. She certainly means kindly--to herself--and to others when it is convenient.”
“No, you cannot mean what you say.”
“Indeed I do,” replied she smiling. “Does she suppose you altogether indifferent to cold, and pleased to encounter such a storm?”
“If we were fifty miles from the Castle, Clara, you would then notice the inconvenience we should suffer from the loss of many comforts which it affords us, as you now notice the inconvenience of being distant only half a mile.”
“We might not have so much game; Miss Osborne would not give me flowers; we should not go to assemblies in their coach. On the other hand, I should not be so plagued by our best maid marrying their groom next month, because the ‘Osborne Arms’ will then be vacant. Nor would the laundress tell me, when I complain of her clear starching, that she had always helped in my Lady’s laundry, and the housekeeper had been perfectly satisfied. And then we should not have to decipher her ladyship’s handwriting, which is a labour itself.”
“Does Lady Osborne write so often?” enquired Elizabeth.
“She finds occasion to write to my brother several times a week,” replied Mrs Blake, “and the messages and good advice for me are included--but it is of the quality of her handwriting that I complain. It is hardly to be separated one word from another. I was surprised at the ease with which Edward read this last note.”
Mr Howard explained that having captured the words “card-table” and “this evening,” the rest had been simple.
“Perhaps,” hazarded Emma, “Lady Osborne has the gout in her fingers. I have heard that many old people are so afflicted, and I knew one old lady----”
Emma never gained for her old acquaintance the sympathy of the Parsonage parlour, for Mrs Blake was laughing with her hand to her side, Mr Howard joined in, and Elizabeth laughed too, without in the least knowing why. Charles only was silent and puzzled. Mrs Blake controlled herself.
“No, no, Miss Emma, gout and old age will not do at all.”
“But,” Charles asserted, “she is an old lady. She has a big son.”
“Lord Osborne is not very big, Charles,” said his mother with a smile.
“Indeed, I think Lord Osborne a very fine young man, and I am sure Emma does too. Do you not Emma?” interposed Elizabeth, who had only half understood what was going on, but who could not hear Lord Osborne’s name without recalling his admiration for Emma.
Mr Howard gave Emma an enquiring glance, and thereafter there was a certain coldness and restraint in his manner of addressing her which puzzled and rather vexed her. It was not, however, shaken off during the rest of the evening, and only lessened by his being persuaded to read aloud to them. In this manner the remainder of the evening was spent.