one, could not be slighted. Iler name was whispered from one party to another, and no sooner had the signal been given by the orchestra’s striking up a favourite air, which seemed to call the young to their duty and people the centre of the roam, than she found herself engaged to dance with a brother officer, introduced by Captain Hunter.
Emma Watson was not more than of the middle height, well made and plump, with an air of healthy vigour, Her skin was very brown, but clear, smooth, and glowing, which, with a lively eye, a sweet smile, and an open countenance, gave beauty to attract, and expression to make that beauty improve on acquaintance. Having no reason to be dissatisfied with her partner, the evening began very pleasantly to her, and her feelings perfectly coincided with the reiterated observation of others, that it was an excellent ball. The two first dances were not quite over when the returning sound of carriages after a long interruption called general notice!—‘The Osbornes are coming!’ ‘The Osbornes are coming!’ was repeated round the room. After some minutes of extraordinary bustle without and watchful curiosity within, the important party, preceded by the attentive master of the inn, to open a door which was never shut, made their appearance. They consisted of Lady Osborne; her son, Lord Osborne; her daughter, Miss Osborne; Miss Carr, her daughter’s friend; Mr. Howard, formerly tutor to Lord Osborne, now clergyman of the parish in which the castle stood; Mrs, Blake, a widow sister, who lived with
