herself escorted there by her late partner, rather to her own astonishment, as she could not help feeling that her place should have been occupied by some one of the more distinguished guests. Indeed she fancied, for a moment, that both his mother and sister looked a little annoyed at his selection. She was quite separated from all her own family, except Margaret, who, with the assistance of Tom Musgrove, was placed nearly opposite to them—and who was now, in a peculiarly happy state of spirits. In fact, Emma saw, with some little surprise, that they were carrying on a very lively flirtation—which, as the excellent champagne took effect on his head, became every moment more tender on his part.

CHAPTER II.

On rising from supper, Miss Osborne again passed her arm under Emma's, and led her out of the room: complaining that she was tired and heated, she proposed adjourning to the conservatory, where, by the light of beautiful lamps amidst the murmur of a fountain, the delicious odour of flowers, and the chequered glimpses of a bright wintry moon playing on the blossoms and shrubs, they sauntered in silence. At the end of the conservatory was an alcove fitted up with sofas, and almost concealed from observation by a row of orange trees, whose beautiful blossoms perfumed the air. Into this recess Miss Osborne conducted her friend—and here they had been sitting only a few minutes when they heard voices approaching.

After reconnoitring through the boughs, Miss Osborne softly whispered, "It's only your sister and Mr. Musgrove—sit still, or we shall be plagued with his company."

Trusting that they would not loiter long, the two young ladies remained concealed; and, in another moment, the couple approached so close as to enable them distinctly to hear what they said.

Margaret was speaking.

"But you need not envy us, I assure you, Mr. Musgrove, we, poor, weak women, who have no defence from slander—no pity for the deep heart-wounds we are ever compelled to bear in silence; oh! I assure you, if, as you say, we are like angels, our lot is any thing but angelic."

"But women have so much more—I mean to say they are so much less—that is, you know, they have not any thing at all?"

He did not seem quite aware of what he did mean; and Miss Osborne's looks expressed a degree of amusement that threatened the security of their concealment. She succeeded, however, in stifling her laughter, and 

 Prev. P 23/162 next