"I am sure, Emma you must be struck with Tom Musgrove's manners—is he not delightful?" enquired she, when her dissertation on Croydon was ended.

"I cannot say that I admire him at all," replied Emma firmly.

"Not admire him!" cried Margaret, for a moment aghast at such heresy—then recollecting herself, she added, "ah, I suppose you mean he did not admire you—he did not dance with you at the ball I know; I dare say, too, he was not in spirits—if I had been there it would have been different; if you knew him as well as I and had received as much attention from him, and knew what he thought of yourself as I do, you would see him with very different eyes."

"I shall be quite satisfied to view him always with as much indifference as I do now," said Emma, "and I trust, even if his manners should improve, or my taste alter, I shall be able to look on him without causing you any anxiety by excessive admiration. Elizabeth tells me he has made sad inroads on the peace of most young ladies hereabouts; I hope he will spare me, as I suppose I must not flatter myself with being wiser or steadier than other girls."

"Elizabeth only says so from jealousy," cried Margaret indignantly, "he never paid her any attentions, and so—but good gracious, Emma," added she, interrupting herself and looking behind, "there he is coming, and some others with him—who can they be, only one wears a red coat—I did not expect them so soon."

"Did you expect him at all?" said Emma, colouring with astonishment—"Is it possible you walked here to meet him?"

"Well, and where's the harm if I did—I wish you would just look at those other two gentlemen, and tell me if you know who they are!"

"Indeed," replied Emma, vexed and embarrassed, "I do not like to look round in that way; it does not seem—at least I have been told it is not lady-like to turn round and stare at people—but, Margaret, is it really the case, that you came here with this view?"

"Pooh, pooh, how can you be so tiresome, didn't you know as well as me, that the hounds were to meet at Ashley Lodge—I thought most likely Tom Musgrove would come this way, it is his direct road; but I wish I could make out who it is with him; they are just putting their horses into a trot,—I declare I believe it is Lord Osborne and Mr. Howard—how tiresome now—for Tom will not stop when Lord Osborne is there—how very provoking!"

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