him, how I detest to think of it! I thought I should have died when he
asked to marry me. The very memory of it is enough to make me hate all men,
and prevent me from liking any one. I don't think I could like him; I
should always see that wicked old man's hoary, wrinkled face in his.'

'Oh, Emily, I cannot think how such ideas can come into your head. It is
not right, indeed it isn't.' And this simple Englishwoman looked at this
sensitive girl in sheer wonderment and alarm.

'I only say what I think. I am glad the old man did disinherit me. I'm glad
we are leaving Ashwood; I cannot abide the place when I think of him....
There, that is his chair. I can see him sitting in it now. He is grinning
at us; he is saying, "Ha! ha! I have made beggars of you both." You
remember how we used to tremble when we met his terrible old face on the
stairs; you remember how he used to sit glaring at us all through dinner?'

'Yes, Emily, I remember all that; but I do not think it natural that you
should forget all the years of kindness; he was very good to you, and loved
you very much, and if he forgot himself at the end of his life, we must
remember the weakness of age.'

'The hideousness of age,' Emily replied, in a low tone. The conversation
paused, and then Julia said--

'You are speaking wildly, Emily, and will live to regret your words. Let us
speak no more of Mr. Burnett... I daresay you will find your cousin a
charming young man. I should laugh if it were all to end in a marriage. And
how glad I should be to see you off on your honeymoon, to bid you
good-bye!'