fork. "She would hardly expect to find me dining so contentedly off a tough old steak—ill-cooked, and no sauce. I always have observed in most houses, here especially, none are so badly provided for as the eldest sons. I suppose any thing is good enough for them—it does not signify what I eat at all—I am only your brother—only the head of the house—only the man on whom you will be dependent when—but no matter, I hope you will fare better in my house, that's all!"

"I am very sorry," repeated Elizabeth, "I know it's very disagreeable to have a bad dinner, but I hope it will not happen again, and I'll try and get you something you will like for supper; a broiled fowl and an omelette—could you fancy that, Robert?"

Robert assented; but his wrath was evidently mollified at the promise, and no more was said about the unfortunate dinner at that time.

Another day put a period to their suspense, and confirmed their worst anticipation. Mr. Watson was no more; and his four daughters were left to all the evils which Robert had so providentially pointed out to them. Their feelings and their manner of expressing them, were as different as their characters, and their ways of thinking. Emma, who knew the least of him, certainly experienced the greatest grief—Elizabeth mourned too—but there were so many things for her to think of—much to plan and arrange—so much of economy to be mingled with a wish of doing every thing as handsomely as possible, that she had no time to cultivate sorrow as a duty, or indulge in its appearance as a recreation. Emma was active and useful likewise—but she busied herself in spite of her grief—Miss Watson grieved only in the intervals of her business.

CHAPTER VI.

When first Robert came to Winston, Elizabeth had consulted him on the subject of sending for Sam, but her brother opposed it. Emma had listened in silent anxiety to the debate, and in keen disappointment to its termination. From her sister's conversation, she had an ardent desire to meet her unknown brother; she expected to be able to like him—Elizabeth had, in speaking of him, told many little traits of character, which convinced her that he must possess a generous disposition and an affectionate heart; she longed to see him—to know him—to be loved by him.

But Robert had decided that though he was, of course, to be informed of his father's illness, there was no need to say any thing which should induce him to come himself—no doubt it would be excessively inconvenient to his master—a needless 

 Prev. P 67/162 next