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Emma walked across the dew glazed grass. The meadow, in which she took her promenade had not yet woken up. It was a time in which the night had not yet gone and the day not yet arrived. Emma had not slept. How could she with her thoughts being stuck on one man. The man who had saved her from falling, who had caught her with each of his strong masculine arms while confronting her socially inadequate Uncle Turde from France and finally by dancing closely, tightly and daringly with a few "cha, cha, cha" moves at the Madingly's Ball. She felt heady and hot from these events and so the outside air was very refreshing for her.

She held herself tightly, hoping against hope that he would not think her weak. That he would be able to see past her Uncle's appallingly rhino like social skills, past her incredibly huge lack of fortune and her slight tendency to go off balance when walking along the Cam river bank in his company. She hoped also that her incessant flirting with anything that resembled a male at the Ball would have driven him into such a state of jealousy that he would surely demand for her to marry him and live in his excessively large manor house with two garden mazes, a large river, several hundred servants, a large entourage of brash but extremely rich and fashionable friends and as many Balls as she pleased.

Emma awoke from her stupor of thought as she heard something in the distance. She picked herself off the ground and whipped away the drool that was rapidly spilling from her mouth as she thought of all these wonderful but impossible possibilities that she hoped against hope to come her way. Again she heard a sound but this time it seemed to form words. He said, breathlessly,

"Emma! I am coming to you!"

The voice that spoke these words was somewhat distant and yet its depth and masculinity shone through it. Unfortunately at the Ball the previous evening Emma had taken the liberty of drinking a little more than usual (how else would she have been expected to flirt with every man there) and so as a consequence her senses were a little iffy. This hungover state also accounted for her "outrageous" thoughts of marriage to a man infinitely her superior in age and wealth! By this time the dawn had reached the meadow as the sun had popped up. This was literally the case as this region was so flat, so much so that Emma exclaimed from the sudden brightness.

"Oh my! How very strong the light is. Bloody nearly blinded me."

"Oh my?" exclaimed the man's voice.

"Charles? Is that you? If it is please say, I can't see more than a yard ahead of me."

"Yes, it is I. I am coming to you. I am, I." replied the man, Charles, who's deep voice went down very low toward the end of his sentence. It was so low in fact that it sounded more like "Moos, ee ees mooe. Mooe oomin ooo moo. Meaaam... " or something similar. Because of this Emma, who was very dainty indeed, particularly in the head department and so assumed that the noise was a small fluffy animal on its morning walk to a neighbouring fluffy animal. This resumed, she decided to turn around and head back home at a brisk walk. Charles, who was still some 20 yards away, had to change his manly stride to something resembling a sprint, though slightly more gentlemanly. He was trying to conserve his energies, as he was not used to running for such a distance, and so calling after Emma was presently out of the question. Finally, dripping from perspiration, he was within four yards of Emma. He stopped and called out to her.

"Huuuuwheeeze... Em... Emm... Emmaaa!"

Emma tried her best to look surprised and confused by this, which was not hard. There was no way that she strongly suspected that Charles would come running after her even though at the Ball the previous night he had said "I will meet you in the meadow at dawn". She knew that there was absolutely no point in hoping for his love to be presented to her. She turned to him with all these thoughts more or less shown on her face.

"Emma." he repeated, while desperately trying to compose himself and strike a rather more dashing air about himself. He continued,

"I cannot bare this torment..." Emma quickly spoke over him, she had not forgotten the social conforms, as she said,

"What a fine morning it is, do you not think?"

"Why, yes, indeed. Emma I must..." he replied bluntly.

"Though I think it may rain. Do you not think?" Emma said conversationally. Charles dropped his head and laughed briefly. He then looked up and directly into Emma's sparkling eyes.

"I think a great deal madam. Mainly about you and your exquisite apparel, person and your astounding ability to make me feel really hoot'in, toot'in."Emma looked straight back at him and smiled.

"I am very glad, sir."

"Come hear you saucy seductress." they embraced one another ranking second place for best romantic novel embrace. Second that is after Sleeping Beauty. He beamed at her and she pouted so as to fit his description of her.

"Emma, will you marry me?" He asked her.

"A million times, yes. Yes! Yes! Yes!" and the couple laughed merrily together as the Sun smiled down at them.

They lived happily ever after until Charles took a greater interest in stamp collecting rather than his wife, Emma. She then left her husband for a richer man. After all this they were slightly less happy but as they both fooled themselves into thinking that they were happy, they survived life. Just about.