"Then, perhaps, I may help you there; I will, at least, try—your desolate situation interests me deeply—poor girl—you look terribly worn and flushed—go home, and lie down to rest; try and compose your mind, and hope for better things. But above all, my child, endeavour to subdue a repining spirit, and remember that there is One above, who is the Father of the fatherless, and who has promised never to forsake those who call upon Him faithfully!"
Emma took Janetta home, and weary and worn out, she laid herself down upon her own bed, and there dropped into a heavy slumber. In consequence of her non-appearance at the dinner table, Elizabeth went in search of her, and rousing her up, persuaded her to attempt coming down stairs, though Emma, at first, felt so totally unequal to the exertion, that she declared she could not stir.
"Jane is so very cross to-day," remonstrated Elizabeth; "I am sure I do not know what is the matter with her, but she seems so very angry about something or other, that if you can contrive to come down you will save a great deal of after trouble. Is your head really so very bad; you do look rather ill certainly, but you need not eat, only just try to sit at table."
Slowly and languidly Emma rose from her bed; her head ached so intensely that she could scarcely raise her eyes; an iron band appeared to be compressing her forehead, and seemed every moment to increase in pressure. She tried to arrange her hair, and her dress, disordered by lying on the bed, but felt incapable of the exertion; leaning on Elizabeth's arm, she descended to the dining-parlour, and took her seat at the table. Robert offered to help her to some meat, but Emma declined eating. Jane never condescended to lift her eyes until the table was cleared, and then she sarcastically observed—
"I am extremely sorry, Miss Emma Watson, that there is nothing on my table good enough for you to eat to-day; shall I send over to the pastry-cook's, and see if he has any little delicacies to tempt your fastidious appetite? I am not so unreasonable as to expect a young lady like you to dine on roast mutton and plain pudding."
"I am not very well," replied Emma, "and have no appetite to-day; but it is my own misfortune, not the fault of your dinner, I am sure."