herself.

Her own curtsey was as stiff and reserved, as if she had been taking lessons of Mrs. Edwards; and she resumed her seat without feeling the slightest inclination to converse herself, and being almost displeased with Elizabeth for the easy manner in which she allowed, or perhaps encouraged, Tom Musgrove to address her. Lord Osborne's visit was certainly meant for Emma, for he placed himself near her, and sat some minutes with his eyes fixed on her countenance, until she began to think he meant to preserve the same conduct in her father's house, as he had done at the ball.

At length, however, he spoke:

"It's a beautiful morning; ain't you going to walk to-day?"

"No, my Lord," replied she quietly, raising her eyes from her work, "I think it is too dirty!"

"You should wear boots," said he, "nankeen with block tops, look very nice, when a woman has a pretty ankle."

She had nothing to object to his taste, and did not reply.

"Do you ride?" continued he.

"No, my lord."

"Why not? every woman should ride; a woman never looks so well as on horse-back, well mounted, and in a handsome habit—you should ride—don't you like it?"

"There are, sometimes, other impediments, my lord, besides want of taste, even to so becoming an amusement," replied Emma, gravely.

"Eh? I don't understand," resumed he, "what prevents you?"

"I have no horse," replied Emma, thinking that the shortest way of finishing the subject, and reducing it to the level of his capacity.

"Then your father should keep one for you," observed he.

"My father cannot afford it," said Emma, decidedly; "and I have no wish to act in a way inconsistent with our circumstances."

"Poor is he? how uncomfortable!" said Lord Osborne, "why, what's his income, do you suppose?" continuing in the tone in which he would have questioned a day labourer as to his wages.

"It is 

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