Emma was very angry, and foolishly wrote a spirited reply, which, of course, brought a rejoinder; and thus, in spite of Alice’s entreaties, several notes passed between them, and Emma was no nearer her object than before. When they met, he sometimes promised to give up the ring, sometimes playfully evaded the point; but still always kept her in hopes and suspense. Mr. Dashwood noticed the kind of growing intimacy that seemed to subsist between them, and noticed it, too, with displeasure; not that he was jealous at all—for he was of a noble, confiding temper; but he was a proud, reserved man, and did not like the peculiar manner in which Emma allowed Mr. Cooper to address her; and was still less pleased with the low, earnest tones in which he sometimes heard her speaking to him. Mr. Dashwood was the soul of truth and honor himself, but was of a reserved and even stern temper, too; and in spite of the witchery Emma’s playfulness exercised over him, he would occasionally bend his eyes upon her with a stern look, that frightened the soul almost out of her body—for Emma, like all fibbers, was a coward. She was desperately in love with him, but at the same time desperately afraid of him. “Oh, if I only get out of this scrape safely,” she said to Alice, “I’ll take care how I get into another.” “Well,” said Alice, cheerfully, “that is the best thing I’ve heard you say yet, Emma. Pray tell him the truth always in future.” “It was a pity I did not in the beginning,” said Emma; “for I do believe with you, that he would have thought nothing of it then. He does not suspect any thing now; but still it is unlucky.” Emma had no feeling about deceiving one who trusted her so fully, but only thought that she was very ‘unlucky’ and in a ‘scrape.’ The next time she met Mr. Cooper, the subject of the ring was resumed. He protested he had it not with him, or he would give it to her. “Will you allow me to call this evening,” he said, “and I will bring it?” She immediately remembered that Mr. Dashwood would be at her house in the evening, and she said, “No, I shall not be at home. I am going to spend the evening with Miss Pearsall. Will you not be there?” “If you are, certainly,” he replied, in a manner implying that it was an appointment, which was the fact, though Emma was vexed at his letting it appear. Mr. Dashwood said to her afterward, “I will bring the book you wish this evening,” but she answered, to Alice’s surprise, “No, don’t, for I am going with mamma to old Mrs. Haight’s to drink tea; so you must pass the evening at the club for this once,” but, she added, holding out her hand, “come to-morrow; until when, good-by.” “Why, Emma, what on earth takes you to Mrs. Haight’s to tea?” said Alice, afterward. “I am not going to Mrs. Haight’s,” she coolly replied. “I am going to Ellen Pearsall’s. Mr. Cooper has promised at last to give me that tiresome ring, and my notes, too.” Alice looked quite shocked. “Emma, Emma!” she said. “How can you?”