VOLUME III
5. CHAPTER V
(continued)
He remained at Hartfield after all the rest, his thoughts full
of what he had seen; so full, that when the candles came to assist
his observations, he must--yes, he certainly must, as a friend--
an anxious friend--give Emma some hint, ask her some question.
He could not see her in a situation of such danger, without trying to
preserve her. It was his duty.
"Pray, Emma," said he, "may I ask in what lay the great amusement,
the poignant sting of the last word given to you and Miss Fairfax?
I saw the word, and am curious to know how it could be so very
entertaining to the one, and so very distressing to the other."
Emma was extremely confused. She could not endure to give him the
true explanation; for though her suspicions were by no means removed,
she was really ashamed of having ever imparted them.
"Oh!" she cried in evident embarrassment, "it all meant nothing;
a mere joke among ourselves."
"The joke," he replied gravely, "seemed confined to you
and Mr. Churchill."
He had hoped she would speak again, but she did not. She would
rather busy herself about any thing than speak. He sat a little
while in doubt. A variety of evils crossed his mind. Interference--
fruitless interference. Emma's confusion, and the acknowledged intimacy,
seemed to declare her affection engaged. Yet he would speak.
He owed it to her, to risk any thing that might be involved in
an unwelcome interference, rather than her welfare; to encounter
any thing, rather than the remembrance of neglect in such a cause.
"My dear Emma," said he at last, with earnest kindness, "do you
think you perfectly understand the degree of acquaintance between
the gentleman and lady we have been speaking of?"
"Between Mr. Frank Churchill and Miss Fairfax? Oh! yes, perfectly.--
Why do you make a doubt of it?"
"Have you never at any time had reason to think that he admired her,
or that she admired him?"
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