before been kind to me? Tell me plainly what you mean, Mr. Howard; it would be much easier and safer to be at once explicit, if you really wish to act the part of a friend."

She fixed her eyes on him as she spoke, her bashfulness overcome or forgotten in her eager anxiety for an answer—an explanation. His countenance, in his turn, betrayed extreme embarrassment, and he evidently hesitated what to say. She continued after a short pause, finding he gave no reply:

"I cannot help being afraid from your words, that you have some such charge to lay against me. Tell me, did Mrs. Willis think I neglected her last night; that I was too much engrossed with Miss Osborne. I should be extremely grieved were this the case, for nothing could be further from my wishes; if she felt hurt at anything, I fear I must have been wrong, and would willingly do anything in my power to explain the circumstance."

Mr. Howard's countenance betrayed that he was feeling much; but of what nature Emma could not exactly decide. He answered evidently with an effort,

"I assure you, you quite misunderstood me; I never intended to give you the impression that Clara was jealous of Miss Osborne. Your mutual friendship need not exclude you from intimacy with others—friendship is not like love—it should not—it certainly need not be encumbered by jealousy. But, Miss Watson, there is a feeling, a sentiment—a species of friendship, which will not bear a rival; an affection which is covetous of the smiles bestowed on others; which can only be satisfied by an entire return—" he paused a moment, and then added, "I beg your pardon, I have said too much, and I cannot expect you to understand me. We are going in a few days to some distance, and, perhaps, I may not see you again—I wish you every happiness—may you never have reason to do otherwise than rejoice in the friendships you contract," he stopped very abruptly, and after a momentary hesitation hastily quitted the room.

Emma was left alone to try and comprehend, as well as she could, the meaning and object of his very desultory conversation. There began to dawn upon her mind a new idea: he was jealous of Lord Osborne. It was undoubtedly the fact; but her own feelings were in such a state of confusion that she hardly comprehended whether it gave her more pain than pleasure to think this.

It was a very great pleasure to feel that he really cared for her. Jealousy by its existence proved love, and after her doubts as to his feelings and wishes this unexpected 

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