He then swaggered on to the drawing-room, which was in a blaze of light.  The lively Emily had stolen a march on her sister, and had just entered, attired in a fine new pale yellow silk dress with a point-lace berthe and other adornments.

High words had ensued between the sisters as to the meanness of Amelia in trying to take her beau from her, especially after the airs Amelia had given herself respecting Sponge; and a minute observer might have seen the slight tinge of red on Emily’s eyelids denoting the usual issue of such scenes.  The result was, that each determined to do the best she could for herself; and free trade being proclaimed, Emily proceeded to dress with all expedition, calculating that, as Mr. Sponge had come in wet, he would, very likely dress at once and appear in the drawing-room in good time.  Nor was she out in her reckoning, for she had hardly enjoyed an approving glance in the mirror ere our hero came swaggering in, twitching his arms as if he hadn’t got his wristbands adjusted, and working his legs as if they didn’t belong to him.

“Ah, my dear Miss Emley!” exclaimed he, advancing gaily towards her with extended hand, which she took with all the pleasure in the world; adding, “and how have you been?”

“Oh, pretty well, thank you,” replied she, looking as though she would have said, “As well as I can be without you.”

Sponge, though a consummate judge of a horse, and all the minutiae connected with them, was still rather green in the matter of woman; and having settled in his own mind that Amelia should be his choice, he concluded that Emily knew all about it, and was working on her sister’s account, instead of doing the agreeable for herself.  And there it is where elder sisters have such an advantage over younger ones.  They are always shown, or contrive to show themselves, first; and if a man once makes up his mind that the elder one will do, there is an end of the matter; and it is neither a deeper shade or two of blue, nor a brighter tinge of brown, nor a little smaller foot, nor a more elegant waist, that will make him change for a younger sister.  The younger ones immediately become sisters in the men’s minds, and retire, or are retired, from the field—­“scratched,” as Sponge would say.

Amelia, however, was not going to give Emily a chance; for, having dressed with all the expedition compatible with an attractive toilet—­a lavender-coloured satin with broad black lace flounces, and some heavy jewellery on her well-turned arms, she came sidling in so gently as almost to catch Emily in the act of playing the agreeable.  Turning the sidle into a stately sail, with a haughty sort of sneer and toss of the head to her sister, as much as to say, ’What are you doing with my man?’—­a sneer that suddenly changed into a sweet smile as her eye encountered Sponge’s—­she just motioned him off to a sofa, where she commenced a sotto voce conversation in the engaged-couple style.