“I suppose an invitation will come for me,” said Emma calmly, “as soon as they know I am here; and then Hester and I can go together. Roland said there was no dancing, but I think it always safest to bring a ball-dress. It is not heavy, though it takes up a good deal of room; but then you can always take one box into the carriage, and the railway only charges by weight.”
“Roland is very busy, I suppose, my dear. You only see him in the evening?”
“I don’t always see him in the evening. He has his own friends, and I am getting a few acquaintances too. If he gives me my living and very little to do I ought to be grateful to him, but I would not let him give up his own amusements for me. That wouldn’t be fair. Oh yes, he is very busy. He has found so many new people to do business for down here.”
“I hope to goodness he won’t speculate with their money and ruin them,” Captain Morgan said.
“Ruin! oh, I hope not. But Roland says there is nothing so exciting as to be on the verge of ruin. He says it is better than a play: for instead of looking on at the acting, the acting is going on inside of you. But it is his trade to speculate, isn’t it, grandpapa? That is what he is there for, and he is very good at it they say. I suppose this girl has not any money? When they are pretty and nice they seldom have.”
“What girl?” said Captain Morgan, almost haughtily—as haughtily and harshly as the old gentleman could persuade himself to speak.
“Doesn’t he know, grandmamma?” said Emma, “the girl Roland admired so much: and she would just do for him, if she had some money: but so nice looking as he is, and so well established in business, I don’t think, unless there is money, he should throw himself away.”
“Is it Hester Vernon that you mean?” asked the captain in an angry voice.
“She does not mean any harm, Rowley. Don’t you see Hester is just to her an abstract person, not the dear girl she is to you and me. And Emma,” said the old lady almost with timidity, “I fear your ball-dress will not be of much use. Mrs. Merridew will not think of inviting you—she will not perhaps know you are here.”
“Roland met her, grandmamma,” said Emma calmly. “He told me; we are all cousins, I believe. She will be sure to invite me, or if not, you will be able to get me an invitation. People always exert themselves to get invitations for girls. It is like helping young men on in business. We cannot go and make acquaintances for ourselves as young men go and set up offices, but we must have our chance, you know, as well. Of course,” said Emma in her deliberate way, “it is for everybody’s advantage that we should have our chance as well as the men.”
“And what do you call your chance?” said Captain Morgan. He planted himself in the front of the fireplace with his legs very wide apart, which, as his wife well understood, meant war.
“My old man,” she said, “what do you know about the talk of girls? They have one way of thinking, and we have another. They are young, and we are old.”
“Hester is younger than she is,” said the captain, “let her alone. She is as ready to talk as there is any need to be.”
“My chance, grandpapa?” said Emma with a slow little laugh. “It is not necessary, is it, to explain? a girl’s chance is in making—friends. If one goes for a governess one’s family does not like it. They would rather you were your sister’s head nurse with all the trouble, and without any pay. Roland has taken me now—and I do not require to work for my living; but it is not so very cheerful with Roland that I should not wish—if I could—to make a change. We must all think of ourselves you know.”
“My dear,” said the old lady in her soft voice, “in one way that is very true.”
“It is very true, I think, in every way. It might be cheerful for me if Roland were to spend his evenings at home as Tom Pinch in Dickens did with his sister. But then Roland is not a bit like Tom Pinch, and I said to him when I came, ‘You are not to change your life for me.’ So that sometimes, you know, I am in the house all alone all day, and then if he is out to dinner, or if he has any evening engagement, I am alone all the night. And if he were to marry, why there would be an end of me altogether. So you see, grandmamma, wherever I am, it is very natural that I should wish to have my chance.”
“How old are you?” said the captain abruptly.
“I shall be twenty-three at Christmas,” said Emma, raising her eyes to his face. She was curious to know why he asked—whether he thought her older, or younger than her age, whether he thought it was strange she should still be unmarried. “I was kept very much out of sight when I was with Elinor,” she said half apologetically. She had not had her “chance” as she had always wished to have. She had not been very well treated she felt in this life, the youngest of seven. She had been passed on from one to another of her married sisters to make herself useful. All of them had said that Emma must “come out,” but no one had taken any trouble about it. She had to scramble for a dress, a very cheap one, and to coax Elinor into taking her to some little local merrymaking, and so opening, as it were,
