| VOLUME I
9. CHAPTER IX
 (continued)Harriet looked grave. "My dear Harriet, you must not refine too much upon this
 charade.--You will betray your feelings improperly, if you are
 too conscious and too quick, and appear to affix more meaning,
 or even quite all the meaning which may be affixed to it.
 Do not be overpowered by such a little tribute of admiration.
 If he had been anxious for secrecy, he would not have left the paper
 while I was by; but he rather pushed it towards me than towards you.
 Do not let us be too solemn on the business.  He has encouragement
 enough to proceed, without our sighing out our souls over this charade." "Oh! no--I hope I shall not be ridiculous about it.  Do as you please." Mr. Woodhouse came in, and very soon led to the subject again,
 by the recurrence of his very frequent inquiry of "Well, my dears,
 how does your book go on?--Have you got any thing fresh?" "Yes, papa; we have something to read you, something quite fresh.
 A piece of paper was found on the table this morning--(dropt,
 we suppose, by a fairy)-- containing a very pretty charade, and we
 have just copied it in." She read it to him, just as he liked to have any thing read,
 slowly and distinctly, and two or three times over, with explanations
 of every part as she proceeded-- and he was very much pleased, and,
 as she had foreseen, especially struck with the complimentary conclusion. "Aye, that's very just, indeed, that's very properly said.
 Very true.  `Woman, lovely woman.' It is such a pretty charade,
 my dear, that I can easily guess what fairy brought it.-- Nobody
 could have written so prettily, but you, Emma." Emma only nodded, and smiled.--After a little thinking,
 and a very tender sigh, he added, "Ah! it is no difficulty to see who you take after! Your dear mother
 was so clever at all those things! If I had but her memory! But I
 can remember nothing;--not even that particular riddle which you
 have heard me mention; I can only recollect the first stanza;
 and there are several. |