not leave home.’ ‘I do not mean to make you cry,’ said Robert, rather softened, and after a short silence, by way of changing the subject, he added: ‘I am just come from my Father’s room; he seems very indifferent. It will be a sad break-up when he dies. Pity, you can none of you get married! You must come to Croydon as well as the rest, and see what you can do there. I believe if Margaret had had a thousand or fifteen hundred pounds, there was a young man who would have thought of her.’ Emma was glad when they were joined by the others; it was better to look at her Sister-in-law’s finery than listen to Robert, who had equally irritated and grieved her. Mrs. Robert, exactly as smart as she had been at her own party, came in with apologies for her dress. ‘I would not make you wait,’ said she, ‘so I put on the first thing I met with. I am afraid I am a sad figure. My dear Mr. Watson’ (to her husband), ‘you have not put any fresh powder in your hair.’ ‘No, I do not intend it. I think there is powder enough in my hair for my wife and sisters.’ ‘Indeed you ought to make some alteration in your dress before dinner when you are out visiting, though you do not at home.’ ‘Nonsense.’ ‘It is very odd you should not like to do what other gentlemen do. Mr. Marshall and Mr. Hemmings change their dress every day of their Lives before dinner. And what was the use of my putting up your last new Coat, if you are never to wear it.’ ‘Do be satisfied with being fine yourself, and leave your husband alone.’ To put an end to this altercation, and soften the evident vexation of her sisterin-law, Emma (though in no Spirits to make such nonsense easy) began to admire her gown. It produced immediate complacency. ‘Do you like it?’ said she. ‘I am very happy. It has been excessively admired; but sometimes I think the pattern too large. I shall wear one tomorrow that I think you will prefer to this. Have you seen the one I gave Margaret?’
