Emma. No, because I am not to blame in it.

Mrs. K. And does not the little empressement evinced by your lover mortify you?

Emma. No, indeed; on the contrary, I am so obliged to him.

Mrs. K. Obliged to him for delaying the moment in which he may call you his? and on such frivolous pretences! One day, the carpets are not put down-another, the papering of the garret is not finished.

Emma. Oh! yes, and I begin to think more and more impediments will arise; there are so many workmen, he says, and so many things to do.

Mrs. K. You say this with apparent joy.

Emma. Why shouldn't I? It is not I who hinder the workmen.

Mrs. K. But you seem glad they are hindered.
Emma. I need not be sorry, as it is not my fault.

Mrs. K. And if Highwood House were never to be finished for your reception?

Emma. (eagerly.) Oh! Cecilia, do you think there is any chance of that? I sometimes fancy there may be→ and then

Mrs. K. You feel yourself quite a different creature, don't you?

Emma. Quite, quite different, Cecilia!

Mrs. K. And much, much happier?

Emma. I must not say that, you know.

Mrs. K. But tell me, dear Emma, do you feel happy,

when you think of your approaching marriage?

Emma. I feel contented—at least-I believe I do. Is not that enough?

Mrs. K. Contented! one may be contented without marriage.

Emma. Yes, but not without performing one's promise to one's departed mother. When poor mamma's health was declining, she often said she should leave me with less regret if she could see me so advantageously settled.

Mrs. K. But could you not explain to her?

Emma. What, argue with mamma? she never allowed me to answer her.

Mrs. K. Then why not speak first, and tell her? Emma. Oh! Cecilia, mamma would have thought that very saucy. Besides, you forget how ill she was. you have had me vex her?

Mrs. K. So you sacrificed yourself?

Would

Emma. No-indeed-not-as I ought-entirely! for poor mamma wished to see me married to Sir Geoffrey— before-before-(Puts her handkerchief to her eyes.)

Mrs. K. And if her satisfaction was the object to be attained by your marriage, you had better have married him before you lost her.

Emma. (shuddering.)

That was indeed impossible! But I promised her I would, and so I must, you know. Mrs. K. (significantly.) And if at length every thing should be ready?

Emma. Ready! what, quite, quite ready? What can I do?

Mrs. K. Why, tell him honestly you don't like him.

Emma. But that would be very rude, and very ungrateful, too. Besides, mamma always told me one must be married

Mrs. K. Then can't you find somebody else?

Emma. Nobody else finds me.

Mrs. K. You speak as if we were apples on a tree, to be gathered by the first hand that reaches after them.

Emma. I am afraid we are, Cecilia.

Mrs. K. But the hand should pluck the tree up by its roots, before it gathered me so.

Emma. Yes, but you have a spirit-and mine was completely broken, when-when-but that was all two years ago, and is quite forgotten now.

Mrs. K. Emma, Emma, you are not in love with Sir Geoffrey-and love alone should

Emma. Oh! fie, Cecilia! don't talk so; you know all that sort of thing is quite nonsense.

Mrs. K. It is much greater nonsense to marry a man without it. Besides, I am afraid you still feel

Emma. (eagerly.) No, no, no, Cecilia. Every thought of the kind has been banished from my mind these two years. Did he not leave me, and go abroad, without one line-without one word? But why do I mention things so long forgotten? of so little importance now!

Mrs. K. Unimportant-forgotten as they are, those fine blue eyes may be one day recollected-and thenEmma. (firmly.) Never, never, Cecilia, I scarcely know whether they were black or blue.

Mrs. K. And his pale interesting look that last day! Emma. (putting her hand on Mrs. K's mouth.) Hush! Cecilia, hush! I have forgotten every thing else, and shall forget that look, too, very soon-for it is my duty to do so, and one must always do one's duty.-But, hark! some one is coming. If it should be-(with terror.)—No, it is a stranger. (quite relieved).

Enter MR. DEFOIL, bowing and scraping,
with jewellery.

Defoil. Your servant, ladies. I am sent with some elegant articles, in our line, for the inspection of the young lady who is going to be married. (unpacking as he speaks)·

Emma. Oh! pray, sir, don't take the trouble to unpack your goods, for indeed I do not want anything of the kind. Mrs. K. (interposing, eager to see them herself.) Oh! yes, you do, my dear. Look at them at least.

Defoil. As you say,

ma'am, the young lady will, I hope, do me the honour to look, at least. I do not believe any shop in London can produce articles of such exquisite finish-(spreading out things)-and, indeed, the young lady's papa desired me to say it was his orders

Emma. My papa, sir? he died when I was an infant. Defoil. I beg a thousand pardons—your uncle, ma'am, your uncle directed me to

Emma. My uncle lives at Calcutta, sir, and I never saw him in my life.

Defoil. You will excuse my inadvertence, ma'am-the old gentleman-your guardian, perhaps-for I assure you he spoke as if he expected to be obeyed—and—this antique aigrette give me leave-(opening the case)-this antique", aigrette, a family jewel, lost at play by a lady of the highest rank, took the old gentleman's fancy mightily; but if I might be permitted to give an opinion, it would be more becoming-in better taste-if worn by a lady more advanced in life-and then it is a second-hand article-not exactly appropriate on the joyful occasion.

Emma. Indeed, sir, it is frightful, I think.

Defoil. You have evidently great discrimination in

jewellery, ma'am-and-(looking at MRS. K.)-if the young lady could venture to disobey her guardian, this diamond necklace and ear-rings, with cross, and brooch, and these bracelets to match, all complete, just finished, from Paris, by the first artist in our line, in that city. (He presses them on her while he speaks, and she turns away in disgust.)

Emma. No, sir, I don't like necklaces, or ear-rings, or ornaments of any sort. Oh! Cecilia, must the victim be decorated for the sacrifice? (aside.)

Defoil. Yet, perhaps, ma'am, as the good old gentleman seemed so anxious to make a little wedding complimentand you (to MRS. K.)—ma'am, if you would please to assist the young lady in her choice.

Mrs. K. Dear Emma, he may be offended if you reject his present, and it is but prudence to conciliate those who have power over us. Humour him in this.

Defoil. Yes, indeed, miss, as this lady says, gentlemen of his age ought to be humoured; and, besides, as the gentleman is single, he has had his own way too long to be thwarted now. So, you will allow me to put up the aigrette, to please him-and the necklace-and ear-rings, set complete-only five hundred guineas-and, perhaps as a guard to the wedding ring-this emerald, beautifully set! You see, maʼam, your guardian might not object to—(as he talks on, busying himself with his goods).

Emma. (aside to MRS. K.) It is very silly, my dear Cecilia, but I feel ashamed to undeceive him, for you see the truth has not occurred to him as possible. If I have the courage to do my duty, ought I not to have the courage to do it openly?--but what noise is that? A carriage