withstanding all I could say, he would not hear hurrying you home."
He now came into the room, and drew his seat by Emily. He talked so rejoicingly of her return, so gaily of her London campaign: but the cheerfulness was an effort, and the silence into which they gradually sank was a relief to the party, except Mrs. Arundel.
Affection exaggerates its own offences; and in her perpetual self-reproaches for her absence, Emily never remembered that she could not really consider herself to blame for what she could neither foresee nor prevent; all that she dwelt upon was, that she had been, as her aunt expressed it, away and enjoying herself, while her dear, her kind uncle, had been ill and solitary. How vividly did she picture to herself his lonely walks, the unbroken solitude of his study!—no one to read aloud his favourite passages, or replace his scattered books! She gave a furtive glance at the chess-table—the little ivory men seemed not to have been moved since their last game. She was in a fair way of persuading herself that all his altered looks were to be ascribed to her absence.
What eager resolutions did she make of leaving him no more! How attentive she
