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 so young a man, but I am sure I had no claim to expect it, for I never saw him before in my life. By the by, he enguired after one of my daughters, but I do not know which. I suppose you know among yourselves.’

On the third day after the ball, as Nanny, at five minutes before three, was beginning to bustle into the parlour with the tray and knife-case, she was suddenly called to the front door by the sound of as smart a rap as the end of a riding whip could give; and though charged by Miss Watsen to let nobody in, returned in half a minute with a look of awkward dismay to hold the parlour door open for Lord Osborne and Tom Musgrave. The surprise of the young ladies may be imagined. No visitors would have been welcome at such a moment, but such visitors as these—such an one as Lord Osborne at least, a nobleman and a stranger, was really distressing.

He looked a little embarrassed himself, as, on being introduced by his easy voluble friend, he muttered something of doing himsclf the honour of waiting upon Mr. Watson. Though Emma could not but take the compliment of the visit to herself, she was very far from cnjoying it. She felt all the inconsistency of such an acquaintance with the very humble style in which they were obliged to live ; and having in her aunt’s family been used to many of the elegancies of life, was fully sensible of all that must be open to the ridicule of richer people in her present