for business!" cried Margaret, indignantly, "I should think not—whoever thought of business and Tom Musgrove in the same breath?"

"Not many, I dare say," observed Robert, contemptuously, "but if he has no business to occupy him, the less excuse is there for his preposterous conduct."

"My dear," said Mrs. Watson, with decision; "he is very genteel—and genteel people, when they have an independent fortune, are not obliged to be so regular as others—Tom Musgrove is very genteel."

"You know nothing about it," cried Robert, snappishly—for when a man is hungry, he not only dislikes contradiction himself, but, invariably, is liberal with it to others. "If a man simpers and whispers, and makes a few pretty—pretty speeches to you women, you set him down, forsooth, as very genteel—though he never pays a bill—if he can help it—is supercilious to his equals—and keeps a whole party waiting for dinner. Plague take such gentility, say I. Elizabeth, I shall ring the bell for dinner."

He did as he said, whilst his wife sat ruffling up and swelling with indignation at his retort. Determined not to hear her he walked away and stationed himself at the window, which commanded a view of the road. She, not able to address him, and resolved he should know her opinion, audibly exclaimed—to her neighbour—that she did know what gentility was, for she had seen a great of genteel company at Sir Thomas's—and that great allowances were to be made for young men who were always wild and eccentric creatures.

Emma, who heard all this, could not help mentally considering where those allowances were to cease, since Mrs. Watson did not seem disposed to make them for her husband—though, in her judgment he seemed the person most entitled to claim them. Perhaps he had outgrown his right—or exhausted his share—possibly, the title to them ceased at marriage—or, may be, his wife alone was not called on to accommodate him in that way. In the present instance, as she was remarkably hungry, she was glad Robert carried his point, and she walked into dinner with not one degree less of pleasure, because Mr. Musgrove was not there.

A dinner party, like the present, was not likely to be productive of much that could be called conversation. Mr. Robinson contradicted Mr. Martin about the laws concerning poor-rates; and, after being meekly yielded to by that worthy divine, found himself in his turn, pronounced perfectly misinformed, and laboring under an erroneous impression by his good friend, Robert Watson—who just 

 Prev. P 42/464 next