Readmiora

Time passed on. A few more to-morrows, and the party from London would be arriving. It was an alarming change; and Emma was thinking of it one morning, as what must bring a great deal to agitate and grieve her, when Mr. Knightley came in, and distressing thoughts were put by. After the first chat of pleasure he was silent; and then, in a graver tone, began with, “I have something to tell you, Emma; some news.” “Good or bad?” said she, quickly, looking up in his face. “I do not know which it ought to be called.” “Oh…