"You are silent, Miss Watson," continued he, after surveying, for a moment, her downcast look and thoughtful expression. "Am I to suppose that my catalogue does not please you—or are you doubtful of my accuracy?"
"No, indeed, I was considering my own sufficiency for such a task."
"I do not imagine you need doubt that, so far as my judgment goes."
"But that must be a very little way, Mr. Morgan, the experience of this evening cannot be considered sufficient by those who will require information on the subject, however entirely it may satisfy yourself."
"You give me credit for less penetration than I would claim, if you suppose my experience is limited to this evening. You possibly have never seen me before, but we have often met, nevertheless—you did not know that I am a particular friend of your little niece, and deep in her confidence."
"Well, I will allow you as much penetration as you choose to claim on this subject—meantime, tell me when will the situation be vacant at Lady Fanny's?"
"In about two months, I believe; I do not know exactly, but if you will authorise me, I will make all necessary enquiries for you."
"You may do so, if you please, without absolutely committing me; and when I know all the particulars I can consult my brother, to whom I hold myself responsible, and whose approbation I must, of course, have."
At this juncture, the chess table was broken up, and Elizabeth joined Emma. Mr. Millar walked away to make the _amende honorable_ to those ladies young and old, whom he had grievously neglected whilst devoting himself to Miss Watson. Elizabeth looked very well pleased with her game; but she did not seem disposed to talk; at this moment the noise in the dancing-room attracted their attention, and they moved to the door to look on. The party were going through Sir Roger de Coverley, in a high state of excitement, especially some of the young gentleman, of whom Mr. Alfred Freemantle was the most conspicuous. He rushed forwards with fury, and rather tore than ran round the figure; at length, when advancing to meet Margaret Watson, who was, like himself, dancing with more vigour than grace, they ran against each other, her foot slipt, and she fell completely into his arms. Not satisfied with this exploit, she made believe to faint, and he was forced to support her out of the circle: one or two people offered to assist, but he rejected their efforts, and half carried, half led her to the little drawing-room, near which her sisters were standing. Elizabeth and Emma tried to be of service, but, in fact, there was nothing to do; she would have been quite well would she only have held up her head, and sat upright; but whilst she chose to recline on Mr. Freemantle's shoulder—and allow him to keep his arms round her waist, they could do nothing but look on and feel very much ashamed of her.