Emma

may as well be paid now. I have the honour of being acquainted with a
neighbour of yours, (turning to Emma,) a lady residing in or near
Highbury; a family of the name of Fairfax. I shall have no difficulty,
I suppose, in finding the house; though Fairfax, I believe, is not the
proper name—I should rather say Barnes, or Bates. Do you know any
family of that name?”

“To be sure we do,” cried his father; “Mrs. Bates—we passed her house—I
saw Miss Bates at the window. True, true, you are acquainted with Miss
Fairfax; I remember you knew her at Weymouth, and a fine girl she is.
Call upon her, by all means.”

“There is no necessity for my calling this morning,” said the young
man; “another day would do as well; but there was that degree of
acquaintance at Weymouth which—”

“Oh! go to-day, go to-day. Do not defer it. What is right to be done
cannot be done too soon. And, besides, I must give you a hint, Frank;
any want of attention to her _here_ should be carefully avoided. You
saw her with the Campbells, when she was the equal of every body she
mixed with, but here she is with a poor old grandmother, who has barely
enough to live on. If you do not call early it will be a slight.”