he could not help
wondering whether the coach-maker suffered very much, and quite pitied
the poor man.

It was a long letter--a very long letter, written close on all four
sides of the sheet of paper, and crossed afterwards; but it was not a
consolatory letter, for as Emma read it she stopped from time to time to
put her handkerchief to her eyes. To be sure Dolly marvelled greatly to
see her in so much distress, for to her thinking a love affair ought
to be one of the best jokes, and the slyest, merriest kind of thing in
life. But she set it down in her own mind that all this came from Miss
Haredale's being so constant, and that if she would only take on with
some other young gentleman--just in the most innocent way possible,
to keep her first lover up to the mark--she would find herself
inexpressibly comforted.

'I am sure that's what I should do if it was me,' thought Dolly. 'To
make one's sweetheart miserable is well enough and quite right, but to
be made miserable one's self is a little too much!'

However it wouldn't do to say so, and therefore she sat looking on in
silence. She needed a pretty considerable stretch of patience, for when
the long letter had been read once all through it was read again, and
when it had been read twice all through it was read again. During this
tedious process, Dolly beguiled the time in the most improving manner
that occurred to her, by curling her hair on her fingers, with the
aid of the looking-glass before mentioned, and giving it some killing
twists.

Everything has an end. Even young ladies in love cannot read their
letters for ever. In course of time the packet was folded up, and it
only remained to write the answer.

But as this promised to be a work of time likewise, Emma said she would
put it off until after dinner, and that Dolly must dine with her. As
Dolly had made up her mind to do so beforehand, she required very little
pressing; and when they had settled this point, they went to walk in the
garden.

They strolled up and down the terrace walks, talking incessantly--at
least, Dolly never left off once--and making that quarter of the sad and
mournful house quite gay. Not that they talked loudly or laughed much,
but they were both so very handsome, and it was such a breezy day, and
their light dresses and dark curls appeared so free and joyous in
their abandonment, and Emma was so fair, and Dolly so rosy, and Emma
so delicately shaped, and Dolly so plump, and--in s