"You promised me your unbiased opinion of Cecilia,"she reminds him;"and you haven't given it yet."The ladies'friend gently remonstrates."Miss Wyvil's beauty dazzles me.How can I give an unbiased opinion?Besides,I am not thinking of her;I can only think of you."Emily lifts her eyes,half merrily,half tenderly,and looks at him over the top of her fan.It is her first effort at flirtation.She is tempted to engage in the most interesting of all games to a girl--the game which plays at ****** love.What has Cecilia told her,in those bedroom gossipings,dear to the hearts of the two friends?Cecilia has whispered,"Mr.Mirabel admires your figure;he calls you 'the Venus of Milo,in a state of perfect abridgment.'"Where is the daughter of Eve,who would not have been flattered by that pretty compliment--who would not have talked soft nonsense in return?"You can only think of Me,"Emily repeats coquettishly."Have you said that to the last young lady who occupied my place,and will you say it again to the next who follows me?""Not to one of them!Mere compliments are for the others--not for you.""What is for me,Mr.Mirabel?"
"What I have just offered you--a confession of the truth."Emily is startled by the tone in which he replies.He seems to be in earnest;not a vestige is left of the easy gayety of his manner.His face shows an expression of anxiety which she has never seen in it yet."Do you believe me?"he asks in a whisper.
She tries to change the subject.
"When am I to hear you preach,Mr.Mirabel?"
He persists."When you believe me,"he says.
His eyes add an emphasis to that reply which is not to be mistaken.Emily turns away from him,and notices Francine.She has left the dance,and is looking with marked attention at Emily and Mirabel."I want to speak to you,"she says,and beckons impatiently to Emily.
Mirabel whispers,"Don't go!"
Emily rises nevertheless--ready to avail herself of the first excuse for leaving him.Francine meets her half way,and takes her roughly by the arm.
"What is it?"Emily asks.
"Suppose you leave off flirting with Mr.Mirabel,and make yourself of some use.""In what way?"
"Use your ears--and look at that girl."
She points disdainfully to innocent Miss Plym.The rector's daughter possesses all the virtues,with one exception--the virtue of having an ear for music.When she sings,she is out of tune;and,when she plays,she murders time.
"Who can dance to such music as that?"says Francine."Finish the waltz for her."Emily naturally hesitates."How can I take her place,unless she asks me?"Francine laughs scornfully."Say at once,you want to go back to Mr.Mirabel.""Do you think I should have got up,when you beckoned to me,"Emily rejoins,"if I had not wanted to get away from Mr.
Mirabel?"
Instead of resenting this sharp retort,Francine suddenly breaks into good humor."Come along,you little spit-fire;I'll manage it for you."She leads Emily to the piano,and stops Miss Plym without a word of apology:"It's your turn to dance now.Here's Miss Brown waiting to relieve you."Cecilia has not been unobservant,in her own quiet way,of what has been going on.Waiting until Francine and Miss Plym are out of hearing,she bends over Emily,and says,"My dear,I really do think Francine is in love with Mr.Mirabel.""After having only been a week in the same house with him!"Emily exclaims.
"At any rate,"said Cecilia,more smartly than usual,"she is jealous of you."