"There is one subject," he replied, "I hope but one, on which we do not think alike." He paused a moment, again smiling, with his eyes fixed on her face. "Does nothing occur to you?-Do not you recollect?-Harriet Smith."
Her cheeks flushed at the name, and she felt afraid of something, though she knew not what.
"Have you heard from her yourself this morning?" cried he.
"You have, I believe, and know the whole."
"No, I have not; I know nothing; pray tell me."
"You are prepared for the worst, I see-and very bad it is.
Harriet Smith marries Robert Martin."
Emma gave a start, which did not seem like being prepared-and her eyes, in eager gaze, said, "No, this is impossible!" but her lips were closed.
"It is so, indeed," continued Mr. Knightley; "I have it from Robert Martin himself. He left me not half an hour ago."
She was still looking at him with the most speaking amazement.