In a few minutes the carriage returned.—­Somebody talked of rain.—­ “I will see that there are umbrellas, sir,” said Frank to his father:  “Miss Bates must not be forgotten:”  and away he went.  Mr. Weston was following; but Mrs. Elton detained him, to gratify him by her opinion of his son; and so briskly did she begin, that the young man himself, though by no means moving slowly, could hardly be out of hearing.

“A very fine young man indeed, Mr. Weston.  You know I candidly told you I should form my own opinion; and I am happy to say that I am extremely pleased with him.—­You may believe me.  I never compliment.  I think him a very handsome young man, and his manners are precisely what I like and approve—­so truly the gentleman, without the least conceit or puppyism.  You must know I have a vast dislike to puppies—­ quite a horror of them.  They were never tolerated at Maple Grove.  Neither Mr. Suckling nor me had ever any patience with them; and we used sometimes to say very cutting things!  Selina, who is mild almost to a fault, bore with them much better.”

While she talked of his son, Mr. Weston’s attention was chained; but when she got to Maple Grove, he could recollect that there were ladies just arriving to be attended to, and with happy smiles must hurry away.

Mrs. Elton turned to Mrs. Weston.  “I have no doubt of its being our carriage with Miss Bates and Jane.  Our coachman and horses are so extremely expeditious!—­I believe we drive faster than any body.—­ What a pleasure it is to send one’s carriage for a friend!—­ I understand you were so kind as to offer, but another time it will be quite unnecessary.  You may be very sure I shall always take care of them.”

Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax, escorted by the two gentlemen, walked into the room; and Mrs. Elton seemed to think it as much her duty as Mrs. Weston’s to receive them.  Her gestures and movements might be understood by any one who looked on like Emma; but her words, every body’s words, were soon lost under the incessant flow of Miss Bates, who came in talking, and had not finished her speech under many minutes after her being admitted into the circle at the fire.  As the door opened she was heard,

“So very obliging of you!—­No rain at all.  Nothing to signify.  I do not care for myself.  Quite thick shoes.  And Jane declares—­ Well!—­(as soon as she was within the door) Well!  This is brilliant indeed!—­This is admirable!—­Excellently contrived, upon my word.  Nothing wanting.  Could not have imagined it.—­So well lighted up!—­ Jane, Jane, look!—­did you ever see any thing?  Oh!  Mr. Weston, you must really have had Aladdin’s lamp.  Good Mrs. Stokes would not know her own room again.  I saw her as I came in; she was standing in the entrance. `Oh!  Mrs. Stokes,’ said I—­ but I had not time for more.”  She was now met by Mrs. Weston.—­ “Very well, I thank you, ma’am.  I hope you are quite well.  Very happy to hear it.  So afraid