where the cat gets in, and she will be certain to eat them all before morning."

"Oh," said Emma, as her eyes again closed irresistibly, and whether or not her sister quitted her bed to go down and rectify her error, she could not tell, for she, at length, dropped fast asleep.

Emma spent the greater part of the next day in her father's room. It was much more agreeable to her than the drawing-room; and Elizabeth, with all her good qualities, was not equal to her as a nurse, and really loved society and conversation, or rather chit-chat, so much as to be very glad to believe her sister's assertion, that she took pleasure in attending on her father. Mr. Watson, though indolent and self-indulgent, was a scholar, and enjoyed the pursuits of literature when not attended by too much labour. Emma found, as he recovered, that there was much to be gained by intercourse with him: she read to him both in English and French, and only regretted that she could not also assist him in Latin or Greek. Hour after hour she had devoted to amusing him, and felt herself well repaid by the affection he manifested in return; and now that the society down stairs, of course, compelled Elizabeth to absent herself, she rejoiced that it made her presence doubly necessary. She could not like her sister-in-law—she saw so much of peevishness in Margaret's general manner as to expect the same would be manifested to her, and Robert had so pained and shocked her by their first tête-à-tête, that she never approached him without dread lest he should renew so painful a subject.

tête-à-tête

A proposal to remain with her father all the evening, instead of appearing at dinner was negatived. He would not permit her to do so, as it really was not necessary for his comfort, and he expected amusement from her description of the dinner-party after it was over.

It was not a very large one; the size of their dining-parlour forbade that—besides their own party of five, there made their appearance Mr. and Mrs. Robinson, the country apothecary and his wife; Mrs. Steady, the widow of a former curate, who lived in the village, and Mr. Martin, who was doing duty for their father during his illness. To these had been added, as we already know, Tom Musgrove; and happy would it have been for the others had he been omitted, as it was impossible for so fashionable a young man to be guilty of such rustic simplicity as to be punctual. The guests whose appetites were set to that particular hour, displayed sundry symptoms of extreme impatience, and Robert Watson vented certain 

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