We must follow this letter to London, and describe the effect which it produced on the parties concerned, and the results which arose from it. Miss Osborne was sitting in the breakfast-room in Portman Square when it was brought to her. Sir William Gordon was beside her on the sofa, assisting at her late breakfast, in the English sense of the word, and playfully telling her that he never meant to wait so long for his, when he was settled at home. As she looked at the address.
"Here is a letter," she observed, "from that charming Emma Watson with whom you were pleased to carry on such a flirtation just before you proposed to me."
"I flirt with Emma Watson," exclaimed he, "I deny it entirely—I never flirted with any girl in my life."
"What have you forgotten it all—did you not take a walk with her in the park—a sketch in a cottage—and a drive in a cart? do you mean to deny all that?"
"By no means, I only deny entirely all flirtation whatever—what time—what spirits—what inclination could I have to flirt with her, when I was doing hard service to win your most intractable and hard-hearted self."
"Not so very hard-hearted, I think, Sir William," said she, blushing.
"Stern enough to drive an ordinary man to despair, Rosa," replied he, looking admiringly at her; "and had I not been as obstinate as yourself, we never should have been sitting as we now are."
"Well, you may as well let my hand alone, I think, for I want the use of it to open my letter," and accordingly the young lady broke the seal, as soon as she could get possession of her hand.
"Let me look over you," said he, leaning forward with his cheek close to hers.
She repulsed him, and placed herself in the corner of the sofa, where he was forced to be satisfied with watching her face. He saw her cheek glow, and her eye flash, whilst her brow contracted with repressed indignation, and she seemed on the point of tearing the letter in two. She did not, however, but dropped her hands in her lap, and sat for a minute looking upwards earnestly, as if trying to recall some past event, then frowned again. Her lover extended his hand towards her, and exclaimed—
"My dear Rosa, what _is_ the matter, your looks quite frighten me—do let me see this letter."