After conversing some time with great apparent interest on the subject of education, as appropriate to her peculiar calling, he gradually turned it in an almost imperceptible way to the scene of yesterday. The necessity of subduing passion, and the dreadful effects of it when unrestrained, naturally brought on a comment on the conduct of her sister-in-law. It was shocking, he protested, to think of such violence; it made his heart bleed to imagine what a mild and gentle-tempered girl must undergo when dependent on such a relative. Hers was a heavy hand as he had experienced; he was delighted that he had warded off one blow from her, he only wished he could more effectually protect her from the other hardships of her lot.
Emma assured him that such a scene had never occurred before, and probably would never do so again; that he greatly magnified the evils of her situation, and that she really did not require such intense sympathy as he seemed inclined to bestow on her. This, so far from stopping him, only brought on a more decided eulogium upon the sweetness of temper which could endure such tyranny, and the self-denial which must be practised daily to live in peace with one who could practise it. How much farther his compliments would have carried him is not known, as they arrived at the lodge-gate, and Emma was obliged to interrupt him to deliver the note which formed her errand. Now she expected to part company, but to her great surprise, she found on turning her steps homewards, that he was still at her elbow, and that he seemed resolved to continue the conversation as well as the walk. What was still more provoking, Janetta claimed his assistance to carry her again, and Emma had no alternative but to continue with him; and as he caught up the child with glee, and an appearance of positive enjoyment.
"This, my dear Miss Emma," said he, "is a trouble which, I trust, you will not long have to endure; at Lady Fanny's you will not be expected to do any thing which would be more properly entrusted to a servant. You will be Miss Alston's companion, not her slave; and I shall, indeed, rejoice to see it so."
Emma thanked him with a sincerity rather greater, perhaps, than his own, but she could not help heartily wishing that he would demonstrate his interest in some other way than in walking home with her; she was in continual dread of meeting some one who would know her; for, though she really saw no harm in it herself, yet after what Elizabeth had said, she was afraid of being misinterpreted or misjudged. He parted from her at the entrance of the town, and Emma returned in some trepidation homewards.