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that there was a time—and not very distant either—when you gave me reason to understand that you did care about him?"
"Him!—never, never. Dear Miss Woodhouse, how could you so mistake me?" turning away distressed.
"Harriet!" cried Emma, after a moment's pause—"What do you mean?—Good Heaven! what do you mean?—Mistake you!—Am I to suppose then?——"
She could not speak another word.—Her voice was lost; and she sat down, waiting in great terror till Harriet should answer.
Harriet, who was standing at some distance, and with face turned from her, did not immediately say any thing; and when she did speak, it was in a voice nearly as agitated as Emma's.
"I should not have thought it possible," she began, "that you could have misunderstood me! I know we agreed never to name him—but considering
