This is just a rough-like beginning to a story I'm planning out - hit me with your opinions and best critisicm - It is a REALLY rough draft.

Mr. Emmett of Whetherby Manor, upon returning from his foreign travels one day, said to his head housekeeper, “Madam, what is your position regarding marriage?” The lady - Mrs. Bassett – who was well used to her master’s fickle disposition and unpredictability gave her reply in this fashion, “the wife.”
“True, but Madam I have recently met a lady – an unmarried lady – of exceedingly good rank and virtue. She would make a decent wife for me, and a good mistress for the household – should I not remarry?”
Whetherby Manor had been without a mistress for the last fifteen years – ever since the death of Mr. Emmett’s wife, Melinda. From that time on, Mr. Emmett rarely spent more than a week at the Manor; he loathed the property, the house, and every detail of familiarity within it. Thus, Mrs. Basset – the poor lady – was at a loss for a response to this sudden inquiry. She frowned over her needlework as he waited for her answer. When she did not reply, he leaned forward in his chair looking at her much as a disappointed child, being sent to bed early might do.
“Elizabeth Bassett,” he began chidingly, “you do not reply? What has your tongue?”
“My tongue is in my head, Master, much as I hope your mind is in yours,” she told him softly, her tone heavy with tension. “I leave this matter to your better judgment – I do not know how to counsel you with what you’d like most to hear.”
Her features darkened as she took a fleeting look at the portrait of Melinda that hung over the fireplace – she had known Mr. Emmett long enough to know when her counsel was of use. She whispered a little prayer and turned back toward that man, watching and listening as he fidgeted restlessly in his rocking chair.
“You scowl at me, Madam – you are displeased; I shall talk of something different. What news do you have from my absence? What has happened while I was away?”
He stood and began pacing the room, listening, as Mrs. Bassett began to relate all the trivial gossip a yearlong absence could conjure. Meanwhile, Mrs. Bassett watched him shrewdly, as he moved from one place to the next, occasionally dropping, bumping, or knocking over something or another. She understood Mr. Emmett well enough to know his agitation and awkwardness had some underlying cause. Unfortunately, his motives could not be examined any further, for their discourse was interrupted by an animated call for the dear lady and the entrance of a cheerful young woman.
“Mrs. Bassett!” The girl recoiled at the sight of Mr. Emmett in the far corner; he bowed courteously to her and both looked with unease to Mrs. Bassett. “Pardon me,” the young woman said slowly, the blush of embarrassment quickly blanching in her cheeks. Curtsying, she fled the room with as much haste as she had entered it. When she had gone, Mr. Emmett stared at the door for some time. As he recovered his senses, however, he suddenly cried out, “Madam was that lovely child Miss Eleanor?”
“Ay, she is the very same. Fifteen years have shaped her into an agreeable young woman, have they not?”
Mr. Emmett nodded in agreement; it seemed just a short while ago she had been a gawky little five-year-old, orphaned and left into his care. He remembered her beaming smile and mass of fiery red hair, dancing and laughing in the sunlight. She used to laugh so prettily, he recalled, as she perched delicately on her “Auntie Melinda’s” lap, pretending to be a fairy princess, a queen, or a nightingale. He and Melinda had loved the child wholly, having none of their own, and delighted in watching her play. Even she, in all her infant affection, had adored “her Auntie Melinda and Master Emmett,” with all the intensity her little self could muster – but that, he decided, was a long time ago.
“From five to twenty,” he murmured to Mrs. Bassett, who had been observing him intensely for the last few moments. The lines of age had never seemed so obvious upon his brow, nor the silver in his hair so despairing. Mrs. Bassett wished to soothe him but did not yet know how. She, instead, began chatting aimlessly on petty gossip, hoping to - if not change the subject, lighten the mood. Mr. Emmett, however, was in no humor for conversation any longer. He left her to herself and retired to his study.

Well, There you have it...

It's very good. The remarkable thing is that it is the dialogue that gives you the best impression of the period and setting, an effect rarely achieved by writers. Well done indeed! (What ho, etc)