In that very room she had been measured last September, with her two friends.

There were the pencilled marks and memorandums on the wainscot by the window.
_He_ had done it.

They all seemed to remember the day, the hour, the party, the occasion--to feel the same consciousness, the same regrets--to be ready to return to the same good understanding; and they were just growing again like themselves, (Harriet, as Emma must suspect, as ready as the best of them to be cordial and happy,) when the carriage reappeared, and all was over.

The style of the visit, and the shortness of it, were then felt to be decisive.

Fourteen minutes to be given to those with whom she had thankfully passed six weeks not six months ago!--Emma could not but picture it all, and feel how justly they might resent, how naturally Harriet must suffer.