The discussion led to more intimate remarks, and Miss Edwards gently asked Emma if she was not often reckoned very like her youngest brother. Emma thought she could perceive a faint blush accompany the question, and there seemed something still more suspicious in the manner in which Mr. Edwards took up the subject. "You are paying Miss Emma no great compliment, I think, Mary," said he hastily. "Mr. Sam Watson is a very good sort of young man, and I daresay a very clever surgeon; but his complexion has been rather too much exposed to all weathers to make a likeness to him very flattering." Mary apologised, in some confusion-- "She had not thought a strong likeness at all incompatible with very different degrees of beauty. There might be resemblance in countenance, and the complexion, and even the features, be very unlike." "I know nothing of my brother's beauty," said Emma, "for I have not seen him since he was seven years old; but my father reckons us alike." "Mr. Watson!" cried Mr. Edwards, "well, you astonish me. There is not the least likeness in the world; your brother's eyes are grey, yours are brown; he has a long face, and a wide mouth. My dear, do _you_ perceive the least resemblance?" "Not the least; Miss Emma Watson puts me very much in mind of her eldest sister, and sometimes I see a look of Miss Penelope, and once or twice there has been a glance of Mr. Robert; but I cannot perceive any likeness to Mr. Samuel." "I see the likeness between her and Miss Watson," replied Mr. Edwards, "very strongly, but I am not sensible of the others. I do not much think she is like any of the family _but_ Miss Watson; but I am very sure there is no resemblance between her and Sam." This matter was settled, and they went to dinner. "Your father, Miss Emma, is one of my oldest friends," said Mr. Edwards, as he helped her to wine, when they were drawn round the fire to enjoy their dessert. "We must drink to his better health. It is a great concern to me, I assure you, that he should be such an invalid. I know nobody who likes a game of cards, in a social way, better than he does, and very few people who play a fairer rubber. It is a thousand pities that he should be so deprived of the pleasure. For now, we have a quiet little whist club, that meets three times a week at the 'White Hart'; and if he could but have his health, how much he would enjoy it!" "I daresay he would, sir; and I wish, with all my heart, he were equal to it." "Your club would be better fitted for an invalid," said Mrs. Edwards, "if you did not keep it up so late." This was an old grievance. "So late, my dear! What are you talking of?" cried her husband with sturdy pleasantry. "We are always at home before midnight. They would laugh at Osborne Castle to hear you call _that_ late. They are but just rising from dinner at midnight."