P. 1


|Views: 1|Likes:
Published by lm0145

More info:

Published by: lm0145 on Jan 14, 2011
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


Read on Scribd mobile: iPhone, iPad and Android.
download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
See more
See less






  • Volume One Chapter One
  • "Ah! poor Miss Taylor! 'Tis a sad business."
  • Volume One Chapter Two
  • "What sort of looking man is Mr. Martin?"
  • "My picture!--But he has left my picture in Bond-street."
  • A Hartfield edition of Shakespeare would have a long note on that passage."
  • Emma could not have desired a more spirited rejection of Mr. Martin's prose
  • Volume One Chapter Thirteen
  • "Mr. Elton in love with me!--What an idea!"
  • "Yes--I imagined--that is--I did not--"
  • "Are you expecting Miss Fairfax here soon?"
  • "And how did you think Miss Fairfax looking?"
  • "Did you see her often at Weymouth? Were you often in the same society?"
  • "Yes--(rather hesitatingly)--I believe I do."
  • "Perhaps Miss Fairfax has never been staying here so long before."
  • "What do you say to Mrs. Dixon?"
  • "Oh! if I could but play as well as you and Miss Fairfax!"
  • "They told me---that Mr. Martin dined with them last Saturday."
  • "I hope Mrs. Bates and Miss Fairfax are--"
  • "I am going to Kingston. Can I do anything for you?"
  • "Mrs. Cole has servants to send. Can I do any thing for you?"
  • We must not allow them to be verified in sweet Jane Fairfax."
  • "So you have been settling that I should marry Jane Fairfax?"
  • "Must I go first? I really am ashamed of always leading the way."
  • "Difference! No indeed I am not."
  • Mr. and Mrs. Elton appeared; and all the smiles and the proprieties passed
  • "How do you like Mrs. Elton?" said Emma in a whisper
  • "Whom are you going to dance with?" asked Mr. Knightley
  • "No--I shall not stir. I shall sit by you. You are my best cure."
  • "Don't say I was cross. I was fatigued. The heat overcame me."
  • "What two letters!--express perfection! I am sure I do not know."
  • "Very well. I undertake the commission. You shall have a charming wife."
  • "So very kind!" replied Miss Bates. "But you are always kind."
  • "Where--may I ask?--is Miss Fairfax going?"
  • "You spent the evening with Mrs. Elton?"
  • "And when is Miss Fairfax to leave you?"
  • "Jane Fairfax!--Good God! You are not serious? You do not mean it?"
  • "And cannot you call me `George' now?"
  • "Oh! no--what an impudent dog I was!--How could I dare--"

Emma Jane Austen

Volume One Chapter One Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her. She was the youngest of the two daughters of a most affectionate, indulgent father; and had, in consequence of her sister's marriage, been mistress of his house from a very early period. Her mother had died too long ago for her to have more than an indistinct remembrance of her caresses; and her place had been supplied by an excellent woman as governess, who had fallen little short of a mother in affection. Sixteen years had Miss Taylor been in Mr. Woodhouse's family, less as a governess than a friend, very fond of both daughters, but particularly of Emma. Between them it was more the intimacy of sisters. Even before Miss Taylor had ceased to hold the nominal office of governess, the mildness of her temper had hardly allowed her to impose any restraint; and the shadow of authority being now long passed away, they had been living together as friend and friend very mutually attached, and Emma doing just what she liked; highly esteeming Miss Taylor's judgment, but directed chiefly by her own. The real evils, indeed, of Emma's situation were the power of having rather too much her own way, and a disposition to think a little too well of herself; these were the disadvantages which threatened alloy to her many enjoyments. The danger, however, was at present so unperceived, that they did not by any means rank as misfortunes with her. Sorrow came--a gentle sorrow--but not at all in the shape of any disagreeable consciousness.--Miss Taylor married. It was Miss Taylor's loss which first brought grief. It was on the wedding-day of this beloved friend that Emma first sat in mournful thought of any continuance. The wedding over, and the bride-people gone, her father and herself were left to dine together, with no prospect of a third to cheer a long evening. Her father composed himself to sleep after dinner, as usual, and she had then only to sit and think of what she had lost.

The event had every promise of happiness for her friend. Mr. Weston was a man of unexceptionable character, easy fortune, suitable age, and pleasant manners; and there was some satisfaction in considering with what self-denying, generous friendship she had always wished and promoted the match; but it was a black morning's work for her. The want of Miss Taylor would be felt every hour of every day. She recalled her past kindness--the kindness, the affection of sixteen years--how she had taught and how she had played with her from five years old--how she had devoted all her powers to attach and amuse her in health--and how nursed her through the various illnesses of childhood. A large debt of gratitude was owing here; but the intercourse of the last seven years, the equal footing and perfect unreserve which had soon followed Isabella's marriage, on their being left to each other, was yet a dearer, tenderer recollection. She had been a friend and companion such as few possessed: intelligent, well-informed, useful, gentle, knowing all the ways of the family, interested in all its concerns, and peculiarly interested in herself, in every pleasure, every scheme of hers--one to whom she could speak every thought as it arose, and who had such an affection for her as could never find fault. How was she to bear the change?--It was true that her friend was going only half a mile from them; but Emma was aware that great must be the difference between a Mrs. Weston, only half a mile from them, and a Miss Taylor in the house; and with all her advantages, natural and domestic, she was now in great danger of suffering from intellectual solitude. She dearly loved her father, but he was no companion for her. He could not meet her in conversation, rational or playful. The evil of the actual disparity in their ages (and Mr. Woodhouse had not married early) was much increased by his constitution and habits; for having been a valetudinarian all his life, without activity of mind or body, he was a much older man in ways than in years; and though everywhere beloved for the friendliness of his heart and his amiable temper, his talents could not have recommended him at any time. Her sister, though comparatively but little removed by matrimony, being settled in London, only sixteen miles off, was much beyond her daily reach; and many a long October and November evening must be struggled through at Hartfield, before Christmas brought the next visit from Isabella and her husband, and their little children, to fill the house, and give her pleasant society again.

Highbury, the large and populous village, almost amounting to a town, to which Hartfield, in spite of its separate lawn, and shrubberies, and name, did really belong, afforded her no equals. The Woodhouses were first in consequence there. All looked up to them. She had many acquaintance in the place, for her father was universally civil, but not one among them who could be accepted in lieu of Miss Taylor for even half a day. It was a melancholy change; and Emma could not but sigh over it, and wish for impossible things, till her father awoke, and made it necessary to be cheerful. His spirits required support. He was a nervous man, easily depressed; fond of every body that he was used to, and hating to part with them; hating change of every kind. Matrimony, as the origin of change, was always disagreeable; and he was by no means yet reconciled to his own daughter's marrying, nor could ever speak of her but with compassion, though it had been entirely a match of affection, when he was now obliged to part with Miss Taylor too; and from his habits of gentle selfishness, and of being never able to suppose that other people could feel differently from himself, he was very much disposed to think Miss Taylor had done as sad a thing for herself as for them, and would have been a great deal happier if she had spent all the rest of her life at Hartfield. Emma smiled and chatted as cheerfully as she could, to keep him from such thoughts; but when tea came, it was impossible for him not to say exactly as he had said at dinner, "Poor Miss Taylor!--I wish she were here again. What a pity it is that Mr. Weston ever thought of her!" "I cannot agree with you, papa; you know I cannot. Mr. Weston is such a good-humoured, pleasant, excellent man, that he thoroughly deserves a good wife;--and you would not have had Miss Taylor live with us for ever, and bear all my odd humours, when she might have a house of her own?" "A house of her own!--But where is the advantage of a house of her own? This is three times as large.--And you have never any odd humours, my dear." "How often we shall be going to see them, and they coming to see us!--We shall be always meeting! We must begin; we must go and pay wedding visit very soon." "My dear, how am I to get so far? Randalls is such a distance. I could not walk half so far." "No, papa, nobody thought of your walking. We must go in the carriage, to be sure."

"The carriage! But James will not like to put the horses to for such a little way;--and where are the poor horses to be while we are paying our visit?" "They are to be put into Mr. Weston's stable, papa. You know we have settled all that already. We talked it all over with Mr. Weston last night. And as for James, you may be very sure he will always like going to Randalls, because of his daughter's being housemaid there. I only doubt whether he will ever take us anywhere else. That was your doing, papa. You got Hannah that good place. Nobody thought of Hannah till you mentioned her--James is so obliged to you!" "I am very glad I did think of her. It was very lucky, for I would not have had poor James think himself slighted upon any account; and I am sure she will make a very good servant: she is a civil, pretty-spoken girl; I have a great opinion of her. Whenever I see her, she always curtseys and asks me how I do, in a very pretty manner; and when you have had her here to do needlework, I observe she always turns the lock of the door the right way and never bangs it. I am sure she will be an excellent servant; and it will be a great comfort to poor Miss Taylor to have somebody about her that she is used to see. Whenever James goes over to see his daughter, you know, she will be hearing of us. He will be able to tell her how we all are." Emma spared no exertions to maintain this happier flow of ideas, and hoped, by the help of backgammon, to get her father tolerably through the evening, and be attacked by no regrets but her own. The backgammon-table was placed; but a visitor immediately afterwards walked in and made it unnecessary. Mr. Knightley, a sensible man about seven or eight-and-thirty, was not only a very old and intimate friend of the family, but particularly connected with it, as the elder brother of Isabella's husband. He lived about a mile from Highbury, was a frequent visitor, and always welcome, and at this time more welcome than usual, as coming directly from their mutual connexions in London. He had returned to a late dinner, after some days' absence, and now walked up to Hartfield to say that all were well in Brunswick Square. It was a happy circumstance, and animated Mr. Woodhouse for some time. Mr. Knightley had a cheerful manner, which always did him good; and his many inquiries after "poor Isabella" and her children were answered most satisfactorily. When this was over, Mr. Woodhouse gratefully observed, "It is very kind of you, Mr. Knightley, to come out at this late hour to call upon us. I am afraid you must have had a shocking walk."

"Not at all, sir. It is a beautiful moonlight night; and so mild that I must draw back from your great fire." "But you must have found it very damp and dirty. I wish you may not catch cold." "Dirty, sir! Look at my shoes. Not a speck on them." "Well! that is quite surprising, for we have had a vast deal of rain here. It rained dreadfully hard for half an hour while we were at breakfast. I wanted them to put off the wedding." "By the bye--I have not wished you joy. Being pretty well aware of what sort of joy you must both be feeling, I have been in no hurry with my congratulations; but I hope it all went off tolerably well. How did you all behave? Who cried most?" "Ah! poor Miss Taylor! 'Tis a sad business." "Poor Mr. and Miss Woodhouse, if you please; but I cannot possibly say `poor Miss Taylor.' I have a great regard for you and Emma; but when it comes to the question of dependence or independence!--At any rate, it must be better to have only one to please than two." "Especially when one of those two is such a fanciful, troublesome creature!" said Emma playfully. "That is what you have in your head, I know--and what you would certainly say if my father were not by." "I believe it is very true, my dear, indeed," said Mr. Woodhouse, with a sigh. "I am afraid I am sometimes very fanciful and troublesome." "My dearest papa! You do not think I could mean you, or suppose Mr. Knightley to mean you. What a horrible idea! Oh no! I meant only myself. Mr. Knightley loves to find fault with me, you know-in a joke--it is all a joke. We always say what we like to one another." Mr. Knightley, in fact, was one of the few people who could see faults in Emma Woodhouse, and the only one who ever told her of them: and though this was not particularly agreeable to Emma herself, she knew it would be so much less so to her father, that she would not have him really suspect such a circumstance as her not being thought perfect by every body. "Emma knows I never flatter her," said Mr. Knightley, "but I meant no reflection on any body. Miss Taylor has been used

to have two persons to please; she will now have but one. The chances are that she must be a gainer." "Well," said Emma, willing to let it pass--"you want to hear about the wedding; and I shall be happy to tell you, for we all behaved charmingly. Every body was punctual, every body in their best looks: not a tear, and hardly a long face to be seen. Oh no; we all felt that we were going to be only half a mile apart, and were sure of meeting every day." "Dear Emma bears every thing so well," said her father. "But, Mr. Knightley, she is really very sorry to lose poor Miss Taylor, and I am sure she will miss her more than she thinks for." Emma turned away her head, divided between tears and smiles. "It is impossible that Emma should not miss such a companion," said Mr. Knightley. "We should not like her so well as we do, sir, if we could suppose it; but she knows how much the marriage is to Miss Taylor's advantage; she knows how very acceptable it must be, at Miss Taylor's time of life, to be settled in a home of her own, and how important to her to be secure of a comfortable provision, and therefore cannot allow herself to feel so much pain as pleasure. Every friend of Miss Taylor must be glad to have her so happily married." "And you have forgotten one matter of joy to me," said Emma, "and a very considerable one--that I made the match myself. I made the match, you know, four years ago; and to have it take place, and be proved in the right, when so many people said Mr. Weston would never marry again, may comfort me for any thing." Mr. Knightley shook his head at her. Her father fondly replied, "Ah! my dear, I wish you would not make matches and foretell things, for whatever you say always comes to pass. Pray do not make any more matches." "I promise you to make none for myself, papa; but I must, indeed, for other people. It is the greatest amusement in the world! And after such success, you know!--Every body said that Mr. Weston would never marry again. Oh dear, no! Mr. Weston, who had been a widower so long, and who seemed so perfectly comfortable without a wife, so constantly occupied either in his business in town or among his friends here, always acceptable wherever he went, always cheerful-Mr. Weston need not spend a single evening in the year alone if he did not like it. Oh no! Mr. Weston certainly would never marry again. Some people even talked of a promise to his wife on her deathbed,

and others of the son and the uncle not letting him. All manner of solemn nonsense was talked on the subject, but I believed none of it. "Ever since the day--about four years ago--that Miss Taylor and I met with him in Broadway Lane, when, because it began to drizzle, he darted away with so much gallantry, and borrowed two umbrellas for us from Farmer Mitchell's, I made up my mind on the subject. I planned the match from that hour; and when such success has blessed me in this instance, dear papa, you cannot think that I shall leave off match-making." "I do not understand what you mean by `success,'" said Mr. Knightley. "Success supposes endeavour. Your time has been properly and delicately spent, if you have been endeavouring for the last four years to bring about this marriage. A worthy employment for a young lady's mind! But if, which I rather imagine, your making the match, as you call it, means only your planning it, your saying to yourself one idle day, `I think it would be a very good thing for Miss Taylor if Mr. Weston were to marry her,' and saying it again to yourself every now and then afterwards, why do you talk of success? Where is your merit? What are you proud of? You made a lucky guess; and that is all that can be said." "And have you never known the pleasure and triumph of a lucky guess?-I pity you.--I thought you cleverer--for, depend upon it a lucky guess is never merely luck. There is always some talent in it. And as to my poor word `success,' which you quarrel with, I do not know that I am so entirely without any claim to it. You have drawn two pretty pictures; but I think there may be a third--a something between the do-nothing and the do-all. If I had not promoted Mr. Weston's visits here, and given many little encouragements, and smoothed many little matters, it might not have come to any thing after all. I think you must know Hartfield enough to comprehend that." "A straightforward, open-hearted man like Weston, and a rational, unaffected woman like Miss Taylor, may be safely left to manage their own concerns. You are more likely to have done harm to yourself, than good to them, by interference." "Emma never thinks of herself, if she can do good to others," rejoined Mr. Woodhouse, understanding but in part. "But, my dear, pray do not make any more matches; they are silly things, and break up one's family circle grievously."

laughing. on succeeding early in life to a small independence. and help him to the best of the fish and the chicken. being of age. Poor Mr. papa. Knightley will be so kind as to meet him. and has fitted up his house so comfortably. which for the last two or three generations had been rising into gentility and property." said Mr." Volume One Chapter Two Mr. ask him to come and dine with us some day. sir. only for Mr. Weston ought to have found . and when the chances of his military life had introduced him to Miss Churchill."Only one more. and born of a respectable family. and Mrs. It was an unsuitable connexion. and it took place. and this is the only way I have of doing him a service. and with the full command of her fortune--though her fortune bore no proportion to the family-estate--was not to be dissuaded from the marriage. of a great Yorkshire family. that it will be a much better thing. but leave him to chuse his own wife. But if you want to shew him any attention. Churchill. to the infinite mortification of Mr. cheerful mind and social temper by entering into the militia of his county. I dare say Mr. and Miss Churchill fell in love with him. That will be a much better thing. Elton. Mrs. Captain Weston was a general favourite. a man of six or seven-and-twenty can take care of himself. Depend upon it. that it would be a shame to have him single any longer--and I thought when he was joining their hands to-day. except her brother and his wife. then embodied. Weston was a native of Highbury. Elton is a very pretty young man. Elton. Miss Churchill. who had never seen him. Emma. Elton. which the connexion would offend. "and I agree with you entirely. he looked so very much as if he would like to have the same kind office done for him! I think very well of Mr. and who were full of pride and importance. nobody was surprized. There is nobody in Highbury who deserves him--and he has been here a whole year. to be sure. and had satisfied an active.--I must look about for a wife for him. who threw her off with due decorum. Knightley. however. at any time. and did not produce much happiness." "With a great deal of pleasure. Invite him to dinner. and I have a great regard for him. papa." "Mr. my dear. but. had become indisposed for any of the more homely pursuits in which his brothers were engaged. He had received a good education. and a very good young man. Elton! You like Mr.

with these objects in view. which afforded him a favourable opening. but as it was not the tyrannic influence of youth on youth. and Miss Churchill of Enscombe. but as they were overcome by other considerations. as making such an amazing match. she had not the best. it had not shaken his determination of never settling till he could purchase Randalls. and the sale of Randalls was long looked forward to. and to live according to the wishes of his own friendly and social disposition. It was now some time since Miss Taylor had begun to influence his schemes. He had made his fortune. he was rather a poorer man than at first. nor any other young creature of equal kindred to care for. which he had always longed for--enough to marry a woman as portionless even as Miss Taylor. Some scruples and some reluctance the widower-father may be supposed to have felt. by that time. and Mr. the next eighteen or twenty years of his life passed cheerfully away. he was soon relieved. He had still a small house in Highbury. having no children of their own. but not enough to refrain from unreasonable regrets at that brother's unreasonable anger. and Mrs. and he had only his own comfort to seek. It was a concern which brought just employment enough. realised an easy competence--enough to secure the purchase of a little estate adjoining Highbury. The boy had. and his own situation to improve as he could. for she had a husband whose warm heart and sweet temper made him think every thing due to her in return for the great goodness of being in love with him. till they were accomplished. offered to take the whole charge of the little Frank soon after her decease. nor from missing the luxuries of her former home. A complete change of life became desirable. but he had gone steadily on. Captain Weston. been the means of a sort of reconciliation. for when his wife died. but still it was nothing in comparison of Enscombe: she did not cease to love her husband. They lived beyond their income. . however. after a three years' marriage. having brothers already established in a good way in London. but though she had one sort of spirit. He quitted the militia and engaged in trade. who had been considered. and with a child to maintain. She had resolution enough to pursue her own will in spite of her brother. where most of his leisure days were spent. He had. was proved to have much the worst of the bargain. especially by the Churchills. but she wanted at once to be the wife of Captain Weston. Churchill. the child was given up to the care and the wealth of the Churchills.more in it. and between useful occupation and the pleasures of society. with the additional softening claim of a lingering illness of his mother's. From the expense of the child.

every morning visit in Highbury included some mention of the handsome letter Mrs. Weston's nature to imagine that any caprice could be strong enough to affect one so dear. His father had no apprehension of it. Weston? I understand it was a very handsome letter. either when Mrs. though the compliment was so little returned that he had never been there in his life. and the hope strengthened when it was understood that he had written to his new mother on the occasion. formed a very favourable idea of the young man. and such a pleasing attention was an irresistible proof of his great good sense. upon his father's marriage. It was most unlikely. Frank Churchill to come among them. even in his first marriage. it had become so avowed an adoption as to have him assume the name of Churchill on coming of age.bought his house. as he believed. and governed her husband entirely. but his second must shew him how delightful a well-judging and truly amiable woman could be. it was very generally proposed. as a most proper attention. He had only himself to please in his choice: his fortune was his own." It was. He was looked on as sufficiently belonging to the place to make his merits and prospects a kind of common concern. and his fond report of him as a very fine young man had made Highbury feel a sort of pride in him too. so deservedly dear. indeed. . Mr. and was proud of him. His coming to visit his father had been often talked of but never achieved. and Miss Bates. and Miss Bates returned the visit. Now was the time for Mr. For a few days. There was not a dissentient voice on the subject. and was beginning a new period of existence. Mr. Woodhouse saw the letter. and he says he never saw such a handsome letter in his life. his own temper had secured him from that. to excite gratitude than to feel it. a highly prized letter. and a lively curiosity to see him prevailed. Mrs. Weston had. indeed. Weston had received. for as to Frank. that he should ever want his father's assistance. but it was not in Mr. with every probability of greater happiness than in any yet passed through. Woodhouse told me of it. The aunt was a capricious woman. therefore. "I suppose you have heard of the handsome letter Mr. Now. and must give him the pleasantest proof of its being a great deal better to choose than to be chosen. Mr. of course. Perry drank tea with Mrs. and. Frank Churchill has written to Mrs. it was more than being tacitly brought up as his uncle's heir. that the visit should take place. or when Mrs. and obtained his wife. He had never been an unhappy man. He saw his son every year in London. Frank Churchill was one of the boasts of Highbury.

whose frequent visits were one of the comforts of Mr. and in Mr. He had been at the pains of consulting Mr. and he could never believe other people to be different from himself. so convenient for even solitary female walking.' when they left her at Randalls in the centre of every domestic comfort. and could not think. Woodhouse. and saying. was all eat up.and a most welcome addition to every source and every expression of congratulation which her marriage had already secured. and she had lived long enough to know how fortunate she might well be thought. she was more equal to her situation than most girls would have been. well as she knew her father. and of moments only of regret. as earnestly tried to prevent any body's eating it." There was no recovering Miss Taylor--nor much likelihood of ceasing to pity her. and her satisfaction---her more than satisfaction--her cheerful enjoyment. without pain. was sometimes taken by surprize at his being still able to pity `poor Miss Taylor. and when that proved vain. What was unwholesome to him he regarded as unfit for any body. was so just and so apparent. the apothecary. he could not but acknowledge (though it seemed rather against the . Weston. and who could ill bear to part with her. and he had. on the subject. or suffering an hour's ennui. which would make the approaching season no hindrance to their spending half the evenings in the week together. poor Miss Taylor! She would be very glad to stay. or saw her go away in the evening attended by her pleasant husband to a carriage of her own. She knew that at times she must be missed. Perry was an intelligent. of Emma's losing a single pleasure. therefore. where the only regret was for a partial separation from friends whose friendship for her had never cooled. and had sense. His own stomach could bear nothing rich. and upon being applied to. Mr. Woodhouse's giving a gentle sigh. Weston's disposition and circumstances. And then there was such comfort in the very easy distance of Randalls from Hartfield. that Emma. Her situation was altogether the subject of hours of gratitude to Mrs. But never did she go without Mr. and energy. Woodhouse's life. which had been a great distress to him. gentlemanlike man. The compliments of his neighbours were over. Perry. "Ah. and spirits that might be hoped would bear her well and happily through its little difficulties and privations. and the wedding-cake. earnestly tried to dissuade them from having any wedding-cake at all. She felt herself a most fortunate woman. from the want of her companionableness: but dear Emma was of no feeble character. he was no longer teased by being wished joy of so sorrowful an event. but a few weeks brought some alleviation to Mr.

unless taken moderately. Highbury. in confirmation of his own. that Mr. and by Mr. She lived with her single daughter in a very small way. and from various united causes. and his good nature. the privilege of exchanging any vacant evening of his own blank solitude for the elegancies and society of Mr. Woodhouse hoped to influence every visitor of the newly married pair. Weston's wedding-cake in their hands: but Mr. comprehended many such. Fortunately for him. through Emma's persuasion. as he liked. and his daughter. his horror of late hours. three ladies almost always at the service of an invitation from Hartfield. There was a strange rumour in Highbury of all the little Perrys being seen with a slice of Mrs. long-standing regard brought the Westons and Mr. and Mrs. his house. Woodhouse was fond of society in his own way. and. With such an opinion. and Donwell Abbey in the parish adjoining. Elton. Not unfrequently. but still the cake was eaten. it would have been a grievance. Bates. .bias of inclination) that wedding-cake might certainly disagree with many--perhaps with most people. he had some of the chosen and the best to dine with him: but evening parties were what he preferred. almost past every thing but tea and quadrille. among the most come-at-able of whom were Mrs. unless he fancied himself at any time unequal to company. and the smiles of his lovely daughter. Woodhouse thought it no hardship for either James or the horses. After these came a second set. the seat of Mr. was a very old lady. Mrs. a young man living alone without liking it. in a great measure. and there was no rest for his benevolent nerves till it was all gone. and was considered with all the regard and respect which a harmless old lady. and large dinner-parties. there was scarcely an evening in the week in which Emma could not make up a card-table for him. Real. and who were fetched and carried home so often. Volume One Chapter Three Mr. he could command the visits of his own little circle. and Miss Bates. He liked very much to have his friends come and see him. He had not much intercourse with any families beyond that circle. Woodhouse's drawing-room. Goddard. Had it taken place only once a year. from his long residence at Hartfield. Woodhouse would never believe it. the widow of a former vicar of Highbury. made him unfit for any acquaintance but such as would visit him on his own terms. Knightley. Mr. from his fortune. was in no danger of being thrown away. Knightley. including Randalls in the same parish.

Goddard was the mistress of a School--not of a seminary. handsome. . and so many good neighbours and friends. The simplicity and cheerfulness of her nature. and a home that wanted for nothing. where a reasonable quantity of accomplishments were sold at a reasonable price. She was a plain. thought herself a most fortunate creature. in long sentences of refined nonsense. and in winter dressed their chilblains with her own hands. It was no wonder that a train of twenty young couple now walked after her to church. old-fashioned Boarding-school. to combine liberal acquirements with elegant morality. And yet she was a happy woman. Her youth had passed without distinction. for her father's sake. can excite. and happy was she. Mrs. It was her own universal good-will and contented temper which worked such wonders. She was a great talker upon little matters. gave the children plenty of wholesome food. full of trivial communications and harmless gossip. Woodhouse. These were the ladies whom Emma found herself very frequently able to collect. without any danger of coming back prodigies. motherly kind of woman. was interested in every body's happiness. honest. and scramble themselves into a little education. and a woman whom no one named without good-will. and having formerly owed much to Mr. Her daughter enjoyed a most uncommon degree of popularity for a woman neither young. She loved every body. quicksighted to every body's merits. nor married. and now thought herself entitled to the occasional holiday of a tea-visit. or an establishment. and she had no intellectual superiority to make atonement to herself. or any thing which professed. and win or lose a few sixpences by his fireside. hung round with fancy-work.under such untoward circumstances. and surrounded with blessings in such an excellent mother. Goddard's school was in high repute--and very deservedly. felt his particular claim on her to leave her neat parlour. were a recommendation to every body. her contented and grateful spirit. let them run about a great deal in the summer. rich. for Highbury was reckoned a particularly healthy spot: she had an ample house and garden. or frighten those who might hate her into outward respect. and a mine of felicity to herself. and where girls might be sent to be out of the way. She had never boasted either beauty or cleverness. upon new principles and new systems--and where young ladies for enormous pay might be screwed out of health and into vanity--but a real. whenever she could. and the endeavour to make a small income go as far as possible. which exactly suited Mr. who had worked hard in her youth. Woodhouse's kindness. Miss Bates stood in the very worst predicament in the world for having much of the public favour. Mrs. and her middle of life was devoted to the care of a failing mother.

and her beauty happened to be of a sort which Emma particularly admired.in the power. she believed--she knew Mr. Somebody had placed her. and was now just returned from a long visit in the country to some young ladies who had been at school there with her. She was short. and so artlessly impressed by the appearance of every thing in so superior a style to what she had been used to. She had no visible friends but what had been acquired at Highbury. that she must have good sense. to be allowed to bring Miss Smith with her. plump. looking forward to exactly such a close of the present day. at Mrs. in most respectful terms. Goddard. A very gracious invitation was returned. on account of her beauty. shewing so proper and becoming a deference. before the end of the evening. whom Emma well knew by character. whom Emma knew very well by sight. it was no remedy for the absence of Mrs. as far as she was herself concerned. a note was brought from Mrs. with a fine bloom. but the quiet prosings of three such women made her feel that every evening so spent was indeed one of the long evenings she had fearfully anticipated. The acquaintance she had already formed were unworthy of her. and the evening no longer dreaded by the fair mistress of the mansion. Weston. and had long felt an interest in. This was all that was generally known of her history. requesting. as renting a large farm of Mr. and quite determined to continue the acquaintance. Knightley thought highly of them--but they . not unwilling to talk--and yet so far from pushing. and. a most welcome request: for Miss Smith was a girl of seventeen. The friends from whom she had just parted. Those soft blue eyes. As she sat one morning. and very much pleased with herself for contriving things so well. should not be wasted on the inferior society of Highbury and its connexions. light hair. and deserve encouragement. She was not struck by any thing remarkably clever in Miss Smith's conversation. several years back. Emma was as much pleased with her manners as her person. must be doing her harm. She was a very pretty girl. Knightley. Encouragement should be given. They were a family of the name of Martin. and residing in the parish of Donwell--very creditably. She was delighted to see her father look comfortable. seeming so pleasantly grateful for being admitted to Hartfield. regular features. and somebody had lately raised her from the condition of scholar to that of parlour-boarder. but she found her altogether very engaging--not inconveniently shy. and all those natural graces. though. blue eyes. though very good sort of people. and a look of great sweetness. Harriet Smith was the natural daughter of somebody. and fair. Goddard's school.

Such another small basin of thin gruel as his own was all that he could. She was so busy in admiring those soft blue eyes. and on the present evening had . and help and recommend the minced chicken and scalloped oysters. Serle understands boiling an egg better than any body. before she was aware. did she then do all the honours of the meal. Ours are all apple-tarts. because it had been the fashion of his youth. while the ladies were comfortably clearing the nicer things. Bates. was all set out and ready. Woodhouses feelings were in sad warfare. You need not be afraid of unwholesome preserves here. Miss Bates. and moved forwards to the fire. let Emma help you to a little bit of tart--a very little bit. and while his hospitality would have welcomed his visitors to every thing. He loved to have the cloth laid. put into a tumbler of water? I do not think it could disagree with you. in talking and listening. Upon such occasions poor Mr. let me propose your venturing on one of these eggs. but you need not be afraid. and powers. and very unfit to be the intimates of a girl who wanted only a little more knowledge and elegance to be quite perfect. which always closed such parties. to say: "Mrs. I do not advise the custard. with the real good-will of a mind delighted with its own ideas. Mrs. and the supper-table. and certainly a very kind undertaking. She would notice her. Goddard. she would detach her from her bad acquaintance. her leisure. highly becoming her own situation in life. but his conviction of suppers being very unwholesome made him rather sorry to see any thing put on it." Emma allowed her father to talk--but supplied her visitors in a much more satisfactory style. I would not recommend an egg boiled by any body else. and forming all these schemes in the in-betweens. with an urgency which she knew would be acceptable to the early hours and civil scruples of their guests. though he might constrain himself. what say you to half a glass of wine? A small half-glass. you see--one of our small eggs will not hurt you. that the evening flew away at a very unusual rate. An egg boiled very soft is not unwholesome. It would be an interesting. and introduce her into good society.must be coarse and unpolished. With an alacrity beyond the common impulse of a spirit which yet was never indifferent to the credit of doing every thing well and attentively. recommend. his care for their health made him grieve that they would eat. they are very small. she would form her opinions and her manners. and for which she had been used to sit and watch the due time. she would improve her. with thorough self-approbation.

was totally free from conceit. a sentiment distinct and independent. shewed that there was no want of taste. Her early attachment to herself was very amiable. and power of appreciating what was elegant and clever. Weston's loss had been important. and actually shaken hands with her at last! Volume One Chapter 4 Harriet Smith's intimacy at Hartfield was soon a settled thing. In that respect Mrs. Harriet would be loved as one to whom she could be useful. Two such could never be granted. or his short. Weston there was nothing to be done. as she saw more of her. where two divisions of the ground sufficed him for his long walk. but she had a sweet. and only desiring to be guided by any one she looked up to. Her father never went beyond the shrubbery. but on this subject questions were vain. but it was not pleasant. Harriet had no penetration. Harriet certainly was not clever. and since Mrs. Emma was obliged to fancy what she liked--but she could never believe that in the same situation she should not have discovered the truth. delighted with the affability with which Miss Woodhouse had treated her all the evening.particular pleasure in sending them away happy. though strength of understanding must not be expected. encouraging. and as their acquaintance increased. Miss Woodhouse was so great a personage in Highbury. Emma had very early foreseen how useful she might find her. Altogether she was quite convinced of Harriet Smith's being exactly the young friend she wanted--exactly the something which her home required. Quick and decided in her ways. and a Harriet Smith. Her first attempts at usefulness were in an endeavour to find out who were the parents. It was quite a different sort of thing. She had ventured once alone to Randalls. Mrs. For Mrs. therefore. Weston was out of the question. She had been satisfied . Two such she did not want. Weston was the object of a regard which had its basis in gratitude and esteem. The happiness of Miss Smith was quite equal to her intentions. docile. that the prospect of the introduction had given as much panic as pleasure. so did their satisfaction in each other. She was ready to tell every thing in her power. grateful little girl went off with highly gratified feelings. But in every respect. she approved her. and her inclination for good company. and was confirmed in all her kind designs. Emma lost no time in inviting. grateful disposition. Weston's marriage her exercise had been too much confined. would be a valuable addition to her privileges. Such a friend as Mrs. As a walking companion. but the humble. for Harriet every thing. but Harriet could not tell. as the year varied. one whom she could summon at any time to a walk. and telling her to come very often.

that there was no young Mrs. Martin. fancying it was a mother and daughter. Martin's saying as she was so fond of it. while she was with them. and the girls and the affairs of the school in general. Martin's having "two parlours. She had taken up a wrong idea. and of Mrs. large enough to hold a dozen people. if she were not taken care of. but when it appeared that the Mr. and dwelt a good deal upon his being so very good-humoured and obliging. Goddard chose to tell her. She believed he was very clever. and of their having a very handsome summer-house in their garden. he had been bid more for his wool than any body in the country. she did suspect danger to her poor little friend from all this hospitality and kindness. her questions increased in number and meaning. Martin. she had spent two very happy months with them.to hear and believe just what Mrs. because she had said how fond she was of them. He could sing a little himself. who bore a part in the narrative. two very good parlours. and one a little Welch cow. and describe the many comforts and wonders of the place. she might be required to sink herself forever.a very handsome summer-house. With this inspiriting notion. and. it must have been the whole.amused by such a picture of another set of beings. and of her having an upper maid who had lived five-and-twenty years with her. who all lived together. Harriet was very ready to speak of the share he had had in their moonlight walks and merry evening games. two of them Alderneys. and now loved to talk of the pleasures of her visit. . no wife in the case. was a single man. and understood every thing. where some day next year they were all to drink tea:-. without thinking beyond the immediate cause. one of them quite as large as Mrs. Goddard's drawing-room. Emma encouraged her talkativeness-. and was always mentioned with approbation for his great good-nature in doing something or other. indeed. and in every thing else he was so very obliging. other feelings arose. it should be called her cow. He had a very fine flock. Martin. formed naturally a great part of the conversation--and but for her acquaintance with the Martins of Abbey-Mill Farm. and there was evidently no dislike to it. a son and son's wife." For some time she was amused. but as she came to understand the family better. and of their having eight cows. Goddard. He had gone three miles round one day in order to bring her some walnuts. But the Martins occupied her thoughts a good deal. and she particularly led Harriet to talk more of Mr. Mrs. He had his shepherd's son into the parlour one night on purpose to sing to her. She was very fond of singing. a very pretty little Welch cow indeed. and enjoying the youthful simplicity which could speak with so much exultation of Mrs. and that. and looked no farther. and the teachers.

He never read the Romance of the Forest. He had never heard of such books before I mentioned them. He has passed you very often. She was in no hurry at all. Martin was so very kind as to send Mrs. whether on horseback or on foot. I suppose. you know. Not that she wanted him to marry. and therefore she was sure. nor The Children of the Abbey. A degree or two lower. but I do not think him so plain now. Goddard had ever seen." "Mr. before we went to cards. Martin!" thought Emma. is the very last sort of person to raise my curiosity. but he is determined to get them now as soon as ever he can. His mother and sisters were very fond of him. But sometimes of an evening. and some other books that lay in one of the window seats--but he reads all them to himself. Martin had told her one day (and there was a blush as she said it. Mrs. and Miss Richardson. A young farmer. One does not. he would read something aloud out of the Elegant Extracts." "And when she had come away. and Miss Prince. But a farmer can need none of my help.She believed every body spoke well of him. he would make a good husband. and he is sure to ride through every week in his way to Kingston. and asked all the three teachers. Martin. no--I do not know--but I believe he has read a good deal--but not what you would think any thing of. "Well done. is not a man of information beyond the line of his own business? He does not read?" "Oh yes!--that is. Goddard a beautiful goose--the finest goose Mrs. . whenever he married. Miss Nash. and a creditable appearance might interest me. Mrs. But did you never see him? He is in Highbury every now and then." "That may be. Mrs. to sup with her. but without having any idea of his name. Goddard had dressed it on a Sunday. "You know what you are about. and I may have seen him fifty times. I might hope to be useful to their families in some way or other. And I know he has read the Vicar of Wakefield." The next question was-"What sort of looking man is Mr. I thought him very plain at first. very entertaining. He reads the Agricultural Reports.) that it was impossible for any body to be a better son. The yeomanry are precisely the order of people with whom I feel I can have nothing to do. Martin?" "Oh! not handsome--not at all handsome. after a time. Mrs.

" "Only four-and-twenty. it might be very desirable. has his fortune entirely to make--cannot be at all beforehand with the world. who are not born to an independence. or there will be plenty of people who would take pleasure in degrading you. and that is as early as most men can afford to marry. whenever he does marry. I know. it is. I imagine. and you must support your claim to that station by every thing within your own power." "I wish you may not get into a scrape. as much above my notice as in every other he is below it. Mr. else they do not want for any thing." ." "To be sure. therefore. Whatever money he might come into when his father died." "To be sure. They seem very comfortable as they are. and. with diligence and good luck. and though. Oh yes! It is not likely you should ever have observed him. Six years hence. I dare say. But they live very comfortably." "I have no doubt of his being a very respectable young man. What do you imagine his age to be?" "He was four-and-twenty the 8th of last June. The misfortune of your birth ought to make you particularly careful as to your associates. His mother is perfectly right not to be in a hurry. Harriet. and Mrs. as to being acquainted with his wife--for though his sisters. but he knows you very well indeed--I mean by sight. whatever his share of the family property. and if she were to take any pains to marry him. They have no indoors man. wish him well. he would be thirty years old!" "Well. That is too young to settle. in one sense. Martin talks of taking a boy another year. There can be no doubt of your being a gentleman's daughter. if he could meet with a good sort of young woman in the same rank as his own. Martin. and my birthday is the 23rd just a fortnight and a day's difference--which is very odd. all afloat. it is next to impossible that he should have realised any thing yet. from a superior education. indeed. as such. she would probably repent it. it does not follow that he might marry any body at all fit for you to notice. so it is. he may be rich in time. with a little money.and is. all employed in his stock." "Six years hence! Dear Miss Woodhouse. are not to be altogether objected to. that he is so. and so forth.--I mean.

as Miss Woodhouse must not be kept waiting. for they are quite as well educated as me. but she trusted there was no other hold. she had voluntarily noticed her father's gentleness with admiration as well as wonder. I do not mean to set up my opinion against your's--and I am sure I shall not wish for the acquaintance of his wife. therefore. Emma was not sorry to have such an opportunity of survey. and that there would be no serious difficulty. Yes. His appearance was very neat. and you are so kind to me. certainly I had better not visit her. Martin marries. Not that I think Mr. on Harriet's side. Martin would ever marry any body but what had had some education--and been very well brought up. and Harriet then came running to her with a . looked with most unfeigned satisfaction at her companion. I shall always have a great regard for the Miss Martins. and should be very sorry to give them up. while they talked together. as to be independent even of Hartfield and Miss Woodhouse. but I would have you so firmly established in good society. The young man had been the first admirer. Harriet. I suppose there are. and after looking very respectfully at her. They remained but a few minutes together. However. Miss Woodhouse. who will probably be some mere farmer's daughter. and saw no alarming symptoms of love. Martin looked as if he did not know what manner was. but his person had no other advantage. But while I visit at Hartfield. and to that end it will be advisable to have as few odd acquaintance as may be. if I can help it. Mr. He was on foot. Martin the very next day. especially Elizabeth."Yes. without education." "You understand the force of influence pretty well. vulgar woman. They met Mr. I say that if you should still be in this country when Mr. and when he came to be contrasted with gentlemen. she thought he must lose all the ground he had gained in Harriet's inclination. and. I am not afraid of what any body can do. to be acquainted with the wife. and he looked like a sensible young man. to be sure." "To be sure. soon made her quick eye sufficiently acquainted with Mr. I wish you may not be drawn in by your intimacy with the sisters. I want to see you permanently well connected." Emma watched her through the fluctuations of this speech. But if he marries a very ignorant. Harriet was not insensible of manner. to oppose any friendly arrangement of her own. and walking a few yards forward. as they were walking on the Donwell road. Robert Martin.

Knightley. you have had very good specimens of well educated. Knightley is so very fine a man!" "Mr. since your acquaintance with us. undoubtedly--remarkably plain:--but that is nothing compared with his entire want of gentility. I see the difference plain enough. Martin again without perceiving him to be a very inferior creature--and rather wondering at yourself for having ever thought him at all agreeable before. and in a flutter of spirits. At Hartfield. But he is not the only gentleman you have been lately used to. after seeing them. that he had not gone round by Randalls. and I did not expect much. Elton? Compare Mr. He thought we walked towards Randalls most days." "I think. Knightley. You must see the difference." . Knightley." "To be sure. Martin. of speaking. and the uncouthness of a voice which I heard to be wholly unmodulated as I stood here. He has not been able to get the Romance of the Forest yet.smiling face. He has not such a fine air and way of walking as Mr. but I had no idea that he could be so very clownish. Knightley's air is so remarkably good that it is not fair to compare Mr. that you must yourself be struck with the difference in Mr. of being silent. Martin with him. of walking. Do not you begin to feel that now? Were not you struck? I am sure you must have been struck by his awkward look and abrupt manner. I had no right to expect much. Miss Woodhouse. I confess. Harriet. so totally without air. So very odd we should happen to meet! Well. He did not think we ever walked this road. I had imagined him. a degree or two nearer gentility. which Miss Woodhouse hoped very soon to compose. well bred men." said Harriet. What say you to Mr. Martin with either of them. he is not like Mr. "he is not so genteel as real gentlemen. He was so busy the last time he was at Kingston that he quite forgot it." "Certainly. Weston and Mr. he said. in a mortified voice. Compare their manner of carrying themselves. you have been repeatedly in the company of some such very real gentlemen. You might not see one in a hundred with gentleman so plainly written as in Mr. you could be in company with Mr. I should be surprized if. But Mr. but he goes again to-morrow. is he like what you expected? What do you think of him? Do you think him so very plain?" "He is very plain. "Only think of our happening to meet him!--How very odd! It was quite a chance.

The older a person grows. the more glaring and disgusting any loudness. But Mr. What has he to do with books? And I have no doubt that he will thrive."Oh yes!--there is a great difference. I do not know whether he has any design of ingratiating himself with either of us. what will he be at Mr. his figure. Neither would Mr. Weston must be between forty and fifty. and spoken with a degree of grave displeasure which Emma thought might be safely left to itself. Mr. but it strikes me that his ." "Which makes his good manners the more valuable. perhaps. he would not be sufferable. On the contrary. commanding sort of manner. Mr. Weston's time of life?" "There is no saying. What is passable in youth is detestable in later age. and be a very rich man in time--and his being illiterate and coarse need not disturb us. indeed." replied Harriet rather solemnly. indeed? That will be very bad. because there is so much good-humour with it--but that would not do to be copied. and situation in life seem to allow it. Knightley's downright. a quickness. Elton is good-humoured. Weston is almost an old man. though it suits him very well. Martin is now awkward and abrupt. Elton as a model. There is an openness. She. decided." "Will he. Weston. almost a bluntness in Mr. or awkwardness becomes. by additional softness. They might be more safely held up as a pattern. vulgar farmer. He was a great deal too full of the market to think of any thing else--which is just as it should be. which every body likes in him. I think a young man might be very safely recommended to take Mr. the more important it is that their manners should not be bad. Harriet. "In one respect. They have more gentleness. obliging. "But there may be pretty good guessing. or coarseness. and look. He will be a completely gross. Her next beginning was. He seems to me to be grown particularly gentle of late. but if any young man were to set about copying him." "How much his business engrosses him already is very plain from the circumstance of his forgetting to inquire for the book you recommended. and gentle. Knightley's or Mr. therefore. totally inattentive to appearances." "I wonder he did not remember the book"--was all Harriet's answer. for a thriving man. and thinking of nothing but profit and loss. said no more for some time. Mr. Weston's. Mr. cheerful. Harriet. Elton's manners are superior to Mr.

Weston. Elton's admiration. which she trusted. not of any family that could fairly object to the doubtful birth of Harriet. and only too palpably desirable. Mr. He had a comfortable home for her. Mr." . though not by her. a young man whom any woman not fastidious might like.why so?" "I think they will neither of them do the other any good. and Emma imagined a very sufficient income. and without low connexions. respectable young man. It was not likely. and now did full justice to. and probable. at the same time. that any body should have equalled her in the date of the plan. Elton very agreeable. and on Harriet's there could be little doubt that the idea of being preferred by him would have all the usual weight and efficacy. however. well-meaning. Elton's situation was most suitable. it must be to please you. Knightley. If he means any thing.manners are softer than they used to be. for though the vicarage of Highbury was not large. for her to have much merit in planning it. the greater was her sense of its expediency. and Harriet blushed and smiled. The longer she considered it. quite the gentleman himself. and said she had always thought Mr. was foundation enough on his side. Elton. And he was really a very pleasing young man. but I think it a bad thing. and she thought very highly of him as a good-humoured. Elton was the very person fixed on by Emma for driving the young farmer out of Harriet's head." "A bad thing! Do you really think it a bad thing?-. Volume One Chapter Five "I do not know what your opinion may be. She feared it was what every body else must think of and predict. there being a want of elegance of feature which she could not dispense with:--but the girl who could be gratified by a Robert Martin's riding about the country to get walnuts for her might very well be conquered by Mr. with such frequent meetings at Hartfield. without any deficiency of useful understanding or knowledge of the world. He was reckoned very handsome. Mrs. he was known to have some independent property. natural. Did not I tell you what he said of you the other day?" She then repeated some warm personal praise which she had drawn from Mr. She thought it would be an excellent match. She had already satisfied herself that he thought Harriet a beautiful girl. as it had entered her brain during the very first evening of Harriet's coming to Hartfield." said Mr. his person much admired in general. "of this great intimacy between Emma and Harriet Smith.

But on the other hand. smiling. and that you must still fight your own battle. that I preserved it some time. I can never remember Emma's omitting to do any thing I wished. You are so much used to live alone. it will be an inducement to her to read more herself." he soon added.--but since we have parted." "Emma has been meaning to read more ever since she was twelve years old. "who have had no such charm thrown over my senses." "I dare say. Mr. How very differently we feel!--Not think they will do each other any good! This will certainly be the beginning of one of our quarrels about Emma." "Perhaps you think I am come on purpose to quarrel with you. if he were here. Mr. I may safely affirm that Harriet Smith will do nothing. I can imagine your objection to Harriet Smith. and agreeing how fortunate it was for Emma. Knightley. I shall not allow you to be a fair judge in this case.You never could persuade her to read half so much as you wished. and for a moment or two he had done. We were speaking of it only yesterday." "There is hardly any desiring to refresh such a memory as that. They will read together." "Mr. Weston. and a subjection of the fancy to the understanding. knowing Weston to be out. I have been seeing their intimacy with the greatest pleasure. that you do not know the value of a companion. I have seen a great many lists of her drawing-up at various times of books that she meant to read regularly through--and very good lists they were--very well chosen. "that I thought so then. Knightley. I know. feelingly.--You know you could not. Knightley."You surprize me! Emma must do Harriet good: and by supplying her with a new object of interest. and sometimes by some other rule. The list she drew up when only fourteen--I remember thinking it did her judgment so much credit. But I have done with expecting any course of steady reading from Emma.-. and I dare say she may have made out a very good list now. perhaps no man can be a good judge of the comfort a woman feels in the society of one of her own sex. "But I. as Emma wants to see her better informed. She is not the superior young woman which Emma's friend ought to be. for he thinks exactly as I do on the subject. Where Miss Taylor failed to stimulate. after being used to it all her life. Harriet may be said to do Emma good. and very neatly arranged--sometimes alphabetically. that there should be such a girl in Highbury for her to associate with. . She will never submit to any thing requiring industry and patience." replied Mrs. and. Weston would undoubtedly support me."--said Mr. She means it.

however. Knightley. while Harriet is presenting such a delightful inferiority? And as for Harriet. and looks upon Emma as knowing every thing. but you were receiving a very good education from her.--But Harriet Smith--I have not half done about Harriet Smith. Weston. with all my heart. Emma has been mistress of the house and of you all. Knightley. there will be nothing to be borne. to be dependent on your recommendation. And ever since she was twelve. But you were preparing yourself to be an excellent wife all the time you were at Hartfield. indeed." "I should have been sorry. and a Churchill in fortune. I think her the very worst sort of companion that Emma could possibly have. Hartfield will only put her out of conceit with all the other places . hear. she had the misfortune of being able to answer questions which puzzled her sister at seventeen. the young man may be a Weston in merit. to own the truth. How can Emma imagine she has any thing to learn herself." "I hope not that. At ten years old. She is a flatterer in all her ways. "You are better placed here. You might not give Emma such a complete education as your powers would seem to promise.must still see. do not foretell vexation from that quarter. Woodhouse's family and wanted another situation." "Why.--It is not likely. She was always quick and assured: Isabella slow and diffident. I do not think you would have spoken a good word for me to any body. I will venture to say that she cannot gain by the acquaintance. and remember. I am afraid you are rather thrown away. and must have been under subjection to her. Mr. had I quitted Mr. and that with every disposition to bear. We will not despair." said he. I should certainly have named Miss Taylor." "Not I. I only name possibilities. Her ignorance is hourly flattery. I am sure you always thought me unfit for the office I held." "Thank you. She inherits her mother's talents. smiling. I hope. and doing as you were bid. In her mother she lost the only person able to cope with her. She knows nothing herself. No. because undesigned. and so much the worse. very fit for a wife. but not at all for a governess. There will be very little merit in making a good wife to such a man as Mr. Weston may grow cross from the wantonness of comfort. Mr. I do not pretend to Emma's genius for foretelling and guessing." "Yes. on the very material matrimonial point of submitting your own will. or his son may plague him. Emma is spoiled by being the cleverest of her family. and if Weston had asked me to recommend him a wife.

"I think her all you describe." ." he replied. but I confess that I have seldom seen a face or figure more pleasing to me than hers." "Pretty! say beautiful rather. no. With all dear Emma's little faults. such a firm and upright figure! There is health. open countenance. Emma always gives me the idea of being the complete picture of grown-up health. her vanity lies another way. One hears sometimes of a child being `the picture of health. not merely in her bloom. Knightley. Where shall we see a better daughter. or am more anxious for her present comfort. or a truer friend? No. or tend at all to make a girl adapt herself rationally to the varieties of her situation in life. but in her air.face and figure?" "I do not know what I could imagine. she will never lead any one really wrong. she has qualities which may be trusted." "Such an eye!--the true hazle eye--and so brilliant! regular features. her glance.she belongs to. Knightley.--They only give a little polish. I love to look at her. she is in the right a hundred times. Mrs. she will make no lasting blunder. Mr. I shall not attempt to deny Emma's being pretty. with a complexion! oh! what a bloom of full health. and such a pretty height and size. she is an excellent creature. am equally stout in my confidence of its not doing them any harm.' now. Weston. and I will add this praise. Considering how very handsome she is. She is loveliness itself. Can you imagine any thing nearer perfect beauty than Emma altogether-. that I do not think her personally vain." "I either depend more upon Emma's good sense than you do. I am much mistaken if Emma's doctrines give any strength of mind. is not she?" "I have not a fault to find with her person. How well she looked last night!" "Oh! you would rather talk of her person than her mind. where Emma errs once. she appears to be little occupied with it. for I cannot lament the acquaintance. She will grow just refined enough to be uncomfortable with those among whom birth and circumstances have placed her home." "And I. or a kinder sister. her head. or my dread of its doing them both harm. would you? Very well. But I am a partial old friend. Mr. I am not to be talked out of my dislike of Harriet Smith.

"I will not raise any outcry. but supposing any little inconvenience may be apprehended from the intimacy. and it shall have a better fate than your advice has often found." said Mrs. I am sure of having their opinions with me. as having somewhat of the privilege of speech that Emma's mother might have had) the liberty of hinting that I do not think any possible good can arise from Harriet Smith's intimacy being made a matter of much discussion among you. Emma shall be an angel. Weston gently." said he. that you cannot be surprized. "I am much obliged to you for it. means just nothing at all." "She always declares she will never marry. . who perfectly approves the acquaintance. and I will keep my spleen to myself till Christmas brings John and Isabella. Isabella does not seem more my sister. It would not be a bad thing for her to be very much in love with a proper object. it would do her good. accountable to nobody but her father. I will not plague you any more."Very well. a curiosity in what one feels for Emma. "very much. John Knightley is easily alarmed. Pray excuse me. for it shall be attended to. I will keep my ill-humour to myself. There is an anxiety." "Not at all. John loves Emma with a reasonable and therefore not a blind affection. I have a very sincere interest in Emma. and she goes so seldom from home. Mr. you know. has never excited a greater interest. But there is nobody hereabouts to attach her. should put an end to it. It is very good advice. Mr. "as can well be. indeed. I should like to see Emma in love." "I know that you all love her really too well to be unjust or unkind. Knightley. I wonder what will become of her!" "So do I. and in some doubt of a return. it cannot be expected that Emma. seem as little to tempt her to break her resolution at present. of course. Knightley. if I take the liberty (I consider myself." cried he. so long as it is a source of pleasure to herself." "Mrs. Weston." "There does. perhaps hardly so great. but excuse me. and might be made unhappy about her sister. and Isabella always thinks as he does. It has been so many years my province to give advice. at this little remains of office. But I have no idea that she has yet ever seen a man she cared for. which. except when he is not quite frightened enough about the children." "Be satisfied." said Mrs.

since her introduction at Hartfield. was not one of the least agreeable proofs of his growing attachment. Elton's being in the fairest way of falling in love. if not in love already. He talked of Harriet. Woodhouse's account." said the gallant Mr. Elton-"I have perhaps given her a little more decision of character. but it was not desirable to have them suspected. "you have made her graceful and easy. and the quiet transition which Mr. as there could be any occasion for. There were wishes at Randalls respecting Emma's destiny. that she could not suppose any thing wanting which a little time would not add." "If it were admissible to contradict a lady. Volume One Chapter Six Emma could not feel a doubt of having given Harriet's fancy a proper direction and raised the gratitude of her young vanity to a very good purpose.and while she is so happy at Hartfield. in my opinion. His perception of the striking improvement of Harriet's manner. She was quite convinced of Mr. She was a beautiful creature when she came to you. I assure you. She had all the natural grace of sweetness of temper and artlessness in herself." "I am glad you think I have been useful to her." . with most agreeable manners." said he. for she found her decidedly more sensible than before of Mr. and receiving a few. I have done very little. shall we have rain?" convinced her that he had nothing more to say or surmise about Hartfield. Knightley soon afterwards made to "What does Weston think of the weather." Part of her meaning was to conceal some favourite thoughts of her own and Mr. Weston's on the subject. very few hints. She had no scruple with regard to him. I do not recommend matrimony at present to Emma. though I mean no slight to the state. but. I cannot wish her to be forming any attachment which would be creating such difficulties on poor Mr. have taught her to think on points which had not fallen in her way before. and as she had no hesitation in following up the assurance of his admiration by agreeable hints. as much as possible. and praised her so warmly. Elton's being a remarkably handsome man. she was soon pretty confident of creating as much liking on Harriet's side. the attractions you have added are infinitely superior to what she received from nature. but Harriet only wanted drawing out. "You have given Miss Smith all that she required.

Elton. no. I almost long to attempt her likeness myself. I am sure. So much superadded decision of character! Skilful has been the hand!" "Great has been the pleasure. But really. but two or three years ago I had a great passion for taking likenesses. Keep your raptures for Harriet's face. Weston some inimitable figure-pieces in her drawing-room. that is what principally strikes me. "it would indeed be a delight! Let me entreat you. I believe I shall try what I can do. and was thought to have a tolerable eye in general. Mr. "Oh! dear. It would be such a delight to have her picture!" "Let me entreat you. "Well."Exactly so." "I have no doubt of it. Harriet?" said she: "did you ever sit for your picture?" Harriet was on the point of leaving the room. and has not Mrs. and yet there is a peculiarity in the shape of the eye and the lines about the mouth which one ought to catch. at Randalls?" Yes. which makes a likeness difficult. But from one cause or another." cried Mr. How could you suppose me ignorant? Is not this room rich in specimens of your landscapes and flowers. to have Harriet's picture. to exercise so charming a talent in favour of your friend. if Harriet would sit to me. and attempted several of my friends. if you give me such kind encouragement. I never met with a disposition more truly amiable. You do not know it I dare say. with a very interesting naivete." . "Did you ever have your likeness taken. She was not less pleased another day with the manner in which he seconded a sudden wish of hers. which had a vast deal of the lover. and only stopt to say." No sooner was she out of sight. Harriet's features are very delicate. I could almost venture. Elton. good man!--thought Emma--but what has all that to do with taking likenesses? You know nothing of drawing. I know what your drawings are. than Emma exclaimed. never. "What an exquisite possession a good picture of her would be! I would give any money for it. I gave it up in disgust. Don't pretend to be in raptures about mine." And it was spoken with a sort of sighing animation. Miss Woodhouse.

She played and sang. you see."Exactly so--The shape of the eye and the lines about the mouth--I have not a doubt of your success. There is my father--another of my father--but the idea of sitting for his picture made him so nervous. perhaps the most. Her many beginnings were displayed. As you will do it. and had made more progress both in drawing and music than many might have done with so little labour as she would ever submit to. There was merit in every drawing--in the least finished. Harriet will not like to sit. "No great variety of faces for you. neither of them very like therefore. and in nothing had she approached the degree of excellence which she would have been glad to command. Did not you observe her manner of answering me? How completely it meant. be an exquisite possession. and again. Dear Mrs." Harriet was soon back again.--and drew in almost every style. Mr. that they might decide together on the best size for Harriet. Mrs." said Emma. her style was spirited. But still I cannot imagine she would not be persuaded. and therefore produced the portfolio containing her various attempts at portraits. Pray. and really quite her own little elegant figure!--and the face not unlike. She would sit whenever I asked her. pray attempt it. but steadiness had always been wanting. and again. Emma wished to go to work directly. Weston! always my kindest friend on every occasion. "I had only my own family to study from. the delight and admiration of her two companions would have been the same. it will indeed. I assure you. pencil. Weston again. `why should my picture be drawn?'" "Oh! yes. and Miss Woodhouse's performances must be capital. crayon. and ought not to have failed of. but had there been much less. and water-colours had been all tried in turn. or sorry to know her reputation for accomplishment often higher than it deserved. She had always wanted to do every thing. that I could only take him by stealth. whole-lengths. but she was not unwilling to have others deceived. and the proposal almost immediately made. half-lengths. . for not one of them had ever been finished. She was not much deceived as to her own skill either as an artist or a musician. There is my sister. It was not lost on me. She thinks so little of her own beauty. Elton. or had there been ten times more. A likeness pleases every body. to use your own words. and she had no scruples which could stand many minutes against the earnest pressing of both the others." "But I am afraid. Miniatures. They were both in ecstasies. I observed it.

and as there are no husbands and wives in the case at present. He had nestled down his head most conveniently. whole-length-. and altogether it was more than I could bear. or rather for my own." We had had a great deal of trouble in persuading him to sit at all. and it is as strong a likeness of his cockade as you would wish to see. and so I never would finish it. to hold a very honourable station over the mantelpiece. Then here is my last. --This did not want much of being finished. for after all my pains. . here come all my attempts at three of those four children. to every morning visitor in Brunswick Square. like Mr. That's very like. John Knightley. "No husbands and wives in the case at present indeed. and when I had really made a very good likeness of it--(Mrs.--and. Elton seemed very properly struck and delighted by the idea. Exactly so. as you observe. She had soon fixed on the size and sort of portrait. John Knightley's. I did then forswear ever drawing any body again. but she was in such a hurry to have me draw her four children that she would not be quiet. I could not help being provoked. Weston and I were quite agreed in thinking it very like)--only too handsome--too flattering--but that was a fault on the right side-. The corner of the sofa is very good. but there is no making children of three or four years old stand still you know. who was a baby. and any one of them might do for any one of the rest.--there they are. from one end of the sheet to the other." with so interesting a consciousness.I should have made a good likeness of her. and was repeating. She was so eager to have them drawn that I could not refuse. that Emma began to consider whether she had not better leave them together at once. But for Harriet's sake. it was a little like--but to be sure it did not do him justice. to have it apologised over as an unfavourable likeness. and vowed I would never take another likeness. Then. Mr. if she would have sat longer. when I put it away in a pet. Henry and John and Bella. and was destined."my last and my best--my brother. It was made a great favour of.after all this. I am rather proud of little George. came poor dear Isabella's cold approbation of--"Yes. I will break my resolution now. if she could please herself. unless they are coarser featured than any of mama's children ever were. as I said. the declaration must wait a little longer. nor can it be very easy to take any likeness of them. But as she wanted to be drawing."--unclosing a pretty sketch of a gentleman in small size. No husbands and wives. I took him as he was sleeping on the sofa. beyond the air and complexion. Here is my sketch of the fourth. It was to be a whole-length in water-colours." Mr.

but was really obliged to put an end to it." Mr. it would be a kindness indeed! It would amuse away the difficulties of her part. but Mr. the same success and satisfaction. There was no want of likeness. but his love and his complaisance were unexceptionable. to jump up and see the progress. with Mr. the skill of the other. and as she meant to throw in a little improvement to the figure. and be charmed. It then occurred to her to employ him in reading. which was rapid and happy. she had great confidence of its being in every way a pretty drawing at last. and Mr. "By all means. She must allow him to be still frequently coming to look. Every body who saw it was pleased." The same civilities and courtesies. Elton fidgeting behind her and watching every touch. just as he ought. and lessen the irksomeness of Miss Smith's. Harriet was to sit again the next day. smiling and blushing. She could not respect his eye. and request him to place himself elsewhere. presented a very sweet mixture of youthful expression to the steady eyes of the artist. and he was ready at the smallest intermission of the pencil. "If he would be so good as to read to them.The sitting began. Elton's very promising attachment was likely to add. Elton was only too happy. to give a little more height. But there was no doing any thing. and accompanied the whole progress of the picture. and Harriet. and considerably more elegance. Elton. with as many other agreeable associations as Mr. and the friendship of both. Harriet listened. she was quite enough pleased with the first day's sketch to wish to go on. and defended it through every criticism. she had been fortunate in the attitude. The sitting was altogether very satisfactory. Elton was in continual raptures. for his admiration made him discern a likeness almost before it was possible. . and of its filling its destined place with credit to them both--a standing memorial of the beauty of one. any thing less would certainly have been too little in a lover. entreated for the permission of attending and reading to them again. and Emma drew in peace. We shall be most happy to consider you as one of the party. She gave him credit for stationing himself where he might gaze and gaze again without offence.--There was no being displeased with such an encourager. took place on the morrow. and afraid of not keeping her attitude and countenance.

"Miss Woodhouse has given her friend the only beauty she wanted. "Oh no! certainly not too tall. Woodhouse could not bear the idea of her stirring out of her house in the fogs . sir. that she seems to be sitting out of doors. but would not own it. not in the least too tall. Proportions. I never saw such a likeness. "I cannot agree with you. may say any thing.--"The expression of the eye is most correct. my dear." said Mr. It is the fault of her face that she has them not. Look at the tree. my dear papa. but Miss Smith has not those eyebrows and eyelashes." cried Mr. and Mr. and Isabella. Emma." "But it is never safe to sit out of doors. and Mr." said Mr. "but I must confess that I regard it as a most happy thought. Elton warmly added. Weston to him--not in the least suspecting that she was addressing a lover. and the tree is touched with such inimitable spirit! Any other situation would have been much less in character. the order must go through the hands of some intelligent person whose taste could be depended on." "Do you think so?" replied he. It appears to me a most perfect resemblance in every feature. I never saw such a likeness in my life. with only a little shawl over her shoulders--and it makes one think she must catch cold." The next thing wanted was to get the picture framed. Exactly so indeed!" "It is very pretty. We must allow for the effect of shade. Consider. it must be done in London. my dear. it is supposed to be summer. a warm day in summer.--Oh no! it gives one exactly the idea of such a height as Miss Smith's. and here were a few difficulties. The only thing I do not thoroughly like is. the placing of Miss Smith out of doors. fore-shortening." "You have made her too tall. The naivete of Miss Smith's manners--and altogether--Oh. you know."--observed Mrs. Knightley. It must be done directly. I do not know any body who draws so well as you do. must not be applied to. Elton. the usual doer of all commissions. "So prettily done! Just as your drawings always are." "But. you know. Woodhouse. she is sitting down--which naturally presents a different--which in short gives exactly the idea--and the proportions must be preserved. because it was December." "You. it is most admirable! I cannot keep my eyes from it. Emma knew that she had.

" "He was too good!--she could not endure the thought!-. Elton. and. He is an excellent young man. and sooner than had been talked of. Half a minute brought it all out. "What a precious deposit!" said he with a tender sigh. But no sooner was the distress known to Mr. "Might he be trusted with the commission. and Emma thought she could so pack it as to ensure its safety without much incommoding him. had left a little parcel for her from one of his sisters.of December. . at least she thought so. I come in for a pretty good share as a second. and give the directions. besides the two songs which she had lent Elizabeth to copy. Elton's going to London produced a fresh occasion for Emma's services towards her friend.--and a very few minutes settled the business. "This man is almost too gallant to be in love. nor particularly expected. and a very good letter. it will be an `Exactly so. His gallantry was always on the alert. but that I suppose there may be a hundred different ways of being in love. but he does sigh and languish. She had heard. and finding she was not at home." thought Emma. chuse the frame. a letter to herself. from Mr. And he wrote as if he really loved her very much--but she did not know--and so. Mr. Elton was to take the drawing to London. and on opening this parcel. quite a proposal of marriage.' as he says himself. Goddard's. and this letter was from him. and gone away. after a time. Yes. as he received it. what infinite pleasure should he have in executing it! he could ride to London at any time. and study for compliments rather more than I could endure as a principal. "I should say so. and will suit Harriet exactly. Martin."--brought on the desired repetition of entreaties and assurances. while he seemed mostly fearful of not being incommoded enough. Martin had been there an hour before. she had actually found. as soon as she got back to Mrs. announcing something extraordinary to have happened which she was longing to tell. hurried look. Harriet had been at Hartfield. that Mr. "Who could have thought it? She was so surprized she did not know what to do. as usual. and with an agitated. It was impossible to say how much he should be gratified by being employed on such an errand. and contained a direct proposal of marriage. soon after breakfast." Volume One Chapter Seven The very day of Mr. But it is his gratitude on Harriet's account.she would not give him such a troublesome office for the world. had gone home to return again to dinner: she returned. than it was removed.

if left quite to his own powers. but as a composition it would not have disgraced a gentleman. that every thing considered. with a "Well. while Harriet stood anxiously watching for her opinion. She paused over it. I understand the sort of mind. Harriet (returning it. I can hardly imagine the young man whom I saw talking with you the other day could express himself so well.and what shall I do?" "What shall you do! In what respect? Do you mean with regard to this letter?" "Yes. Harriet. it is too strong and concise. but expressed good sense.--" well--and-. But what shall I say? Dear Miss Woodhouse. his thoughts naturally find proper words. indeed. the language. Yes." "Well. propriety." said the still waiting Harriet. "Upon my word. "Is it a good letter? or is it too short?" "Yes. not diffuse enough for a woman.--" Emma was half-ashamed of her friend for seeming so pleased and so doubtful." replied Emma rather slowly--"so good a letter." Emma was not sorry to be pressed. do advise me. There were not merely no grammatical errors. liberality. with sentiments to a certain point. even delicacy of feeling. not coarse. It is so with some men. and I suppose may have a natural talent for--thinks strongly and clearly--and when he takes a pen in hand." "But what are you in doubt of? You must answer it of course--and speedily. No doubt he is a sensible man. a very good letter." "Yes. "Pray do. decided. A better written letter." she cried. warm attachment." ." "Will you read the letter?" cried Harriet. She read. and the sentiments it conveyed very much to the credit of the writer. I think one of his sisters must have helped him. The style of the letter was much above her expectation. certainly. "the young man is determined not to lose any thing for want of asking. I'd rather you would." and was at last forced to add. no.) than I had expected. was strong and unaffected. and was surprized. and yet it is not the style of a woman. He will connect himself well if he can. Vigorous. It was short. well. though plain.she was come as fast as she could to ask Miss Woodhouse what she should do.

"Oh no, no! the letter had much better be all your own. You will express yourself very properly, I am sure. There is no danger of your not being intelligible, which is the first thing. Your meaning must be unequivocal; no doubts or demurs: and such expressions of gratitude and concern for the pain you are inflicting as propriety requires, will present themselves unbidden to your mind, I am persuaded. You need not be prompted to write with the appearance of sorrow for his disappointment." "You think I ought to refuse him then," said Harriet, looking down. "Ought to refuse him! My dear Harriet, what do you mean? Are you in any doubt as to that? I thought--but I beg your pardon, perhaps I have been under a mistake. I certainly have been misunderstanding you, if you feel in doubt as to the purport of your answer. I had imagined you were consulting me only as to the wording of it." Harriet was silent. With a little reserve of manner, Emma continued: "You mean to return a favourable answer, I collect." "No, I do not; that is, I do not mean--What shall I do? What would you advise me to do? Pray, dear Miss Woodhouse, tell me what I ought to do." "I shall not give you any advice, Harriet. I will have nothing to do with it. This is a point which you must settle with your feelings." "I had no notion that he liked me so very much," said Harriet, contemplating the letter. For a little while Emma persevered in her silence; but beginning to apprehend the bewitching flattery of that letter might be too powerful, she thought it best to say, "I lay it down as a general rule, Harriet, that if a woman doubts as to whether she should accept a man or not, she certainly ought to refuse him. If she can hesitate as to `Yes,' she ought to say `No' directly. It is not a state to be safely entered into with doubtful feelings, with half a heart. I thought it my duty as a friend, and older than yourself, to say thus much to you. But do not imagine that I want to influence you." "Oh! no, I am sure you are a great deal too kind to--but if you would just advise me what I had best do--No, no, I do not mean that--As you say, one's mind ought to be quite made up--One should not be hesitating--It is a very serious thing.--It will be safer to say `No,' perhaps.--Do you think I had better say `No?'"

"Not for the world," said Emma, smiling graciously, "would I advise you either way. You must be the best judge of your own happiness. If you prefer Mr. Martin to every other person; if you think him the most agreeable man you have ever been in company with, why should you hesitate? You blush, Harriet.--Does any body else occur to you at this moment under such a definition? Harriet, Harriet, do not deceive yourself; do not be run away with by gratitude and compassion. At this moment whom are you thinking of?" The symptoms were favourable.--Instead of answering, Harriet turned away confused, and stood thoughtfully by the fire; and though the letter was still in her hand, it was now mechanically twisted about without regard. Emma waited the result with impatience, but not without strong hopes. At last, with some hesitation, Harriet said-"Miss Woodhouse, as you will not give me your opinion, I must do as well as I can by myself; and I have now quite determined, and really almost made up my mind--to refuse Mr. Martin. Do you think I am right?" "Perfectly, perfectly right, my dearest Harriet; you are doing just what you ought. While you were at all in suspense I kept my feelings to myself, but now that you are so completely decided I have no hesitation in approving. Dear Harriet, I give myself joy of this. It would have grieved me to lose your acquaintance, which must have been the consequence of your marrying Mr. Martin. While you were in the smallest degree wavering, I said nothing about it, because I would not influence; but it would have been the loss of a friend to me. I could not have visited Mrs. Robert Martin, of Abbey-Mill Farm. Now I am secure of you for ever." Harriet had not surmised her own danger, but the idea of it struck her forcibly. "You could not have visited me!" she cried, looking aghast. "No, to be sure you could not; but I never thought of that before. That would have been too dreadful!--What an escape!--Dear Miss Woodhouse, I would not give up the pleasure and honour of being intimate with you for any thing in the world." "Indeed, Harriet, it would have been a severe pang to lose you; but it must have been. You would have thrown yourself out of all good society. I must have given you up."

"Dear me!--How should I ever have borne it! It would have killed me never to come to Hartfield any more!" "Dear affectionate creature!--You banished to Abbey-Mill Farm!--You confined to the society of the illiterate and vulgar all your life! I wonder how the young man could have the assurance to ask it. He must have a pretty good opinion of himself." "I do not think he is conceited either, in general," said Harriet, her conscience opposing such censure; "at least, he is very good natured, and I shall always feel much obliged to him, and have a great regard for-- but that is quite a different thing from--and you know, though he may like me, it does not follow that I should--and certainly I must confess that since my visiting here I have seen people--and if one comes to compare them, person and manners, there is no comparison at all, one is so very handsome and agreeable. However, I do really think Mr. Martin a very amiable young man, and have a great opinion of him; and his being so much attached to me--and his writing such a letter--but as to leaving you, it is what I would not do upon any consideration." "Thank you, thank you, my own sweet little friend. We will not be parted. A woman is not to marry a man merely because she is asked, or because he is attached to her, and can write a tolerable letter." "Oh no;--and it is but a short letter too." Emma felt the bad taste of her friend, but let it pass with a "very true; and it would be a small consolation to her, for the clownish manner which might be offending her every hour of the day, to know that her husband could write a good letter." "Oh! yes, very. Nobody cares for a letter; the thing is, to be always happy with pleasant companions. I am quite determined to refuse him. But how shall I do? What shall I say?" Emma assured her there would be no difficulty in the answer, and advised its being written directly, which was agreed to, in the hope of her assistance; and though Emma continued to protest against any assistance being wanted, it was in fact given in the formation of every sentence. The looking over his letter again, in replying to it, had such a softening tendency, that it was particularly necessary to brace her up with a few decisive expressions; and she was so very much concerned at the idea of making him unhappy, and thought so much of what his mother and sisters would think and say, and was so anxious that they should not fancy her ungrateful,

that Emma believed if the young man had come in her way at that moment, he would have been accepted after all. This letter, however, was written, and sealed, and sent. The business was finished, and Harriet safe. She was rather low all the evening, but Emma could allow for her amiable regrets, and sometimes relieved them by speaking of her own affection, sometimes by bringing forward the idea of Mr. Elton. "I shall never be invited to Abbey-Mill again," was said in rather a sorrowful tone. "Nor, if you were, could I ever bear to part with you, my Harriet. You are a great deal too necessary at Hartfield to be spared to Abbey-Mill." "And I am sure I should never want to go there; for I am never happy but at Hartfield." Some time afterwards it was, "I think Mrs. Goddard would be very much surprized if she knew what had happened. I am sure Miss Nash would--for Miss Nash thinks her own sister very well married, and it is only a linen-draper." "One should be sorry to see greater pride or refinement in the teacher of a school, Harriet. I dare say Miss Nash would envy you such an opportunity as this of being married. Even this conquest would appear valuable in her eyes. As to any thing superior for you, I suppose she is quite in the dark. The attentions of a certain person can hardly be among the tittle-tattle of Highbury yet. Hitherto I fancy you and I are the only people to whom his looks and manners have explained themselves." Harriet blushed and smiled, and said something about wondering that people should like her so much. The idea of Mr. Elton was certainly cheering; but still, after a time, she was tender-hearted again towards the rejected Mr. Martin. "Now he has got my letter," said she softly. "I wonder what they are all doing--whether his sisters know--if he is unhappy, they will be unhappy too. I hope he will not mind it so very much." "Let us think of those among our absent friends who are more cheerfully employed," cried Emma. "At this moment, perhaps, Mr. Elton is shewing your picture to his mother and sisters, telling how much

more beautiful is the original, and after being asked for it five or six times, allowing them to hear your name, your own dear name." "My picture!--But he has left my picture in Bond-street." "Has he so!--Then I know nothing of Mr. Elton. No, my dear little modest Harriet, depend upon it the picture will not be in Bond-street till just before he mounts his horse to-morrow. It is his companion all this evening, his solace, his delight. It opens his designs to his family, it introduces you among them, it diffuses through the party those pleasantest feelings of our nature, eager curiosity and warm prepossession. How cheerful, how animated, how suspicious, how busy their imaginations all are!" Harriet smiled again, and her smiles grew stronger.
Volume One Chapter Eight

Harriet slept at Hartfield that night. For some weeks past she had been spending more than half her time there, and gradually getting to have a bed-room appropriated to herself; and Emma judged it best in every respect, safest and kindest, to keep her with them as much as possible just at present. She was obliged to go the next morning for an hour or two to Mrs. Goddard's, but it was then to be settled that she should return to Hartfield, to make a regular visit of some days. While she was gone, Mr. Knightley called, and sat some time with Mr. Woodhouse and Emma, till Mr. Woodhouse, who had previously made up his mind to walk out, was persuaded by his daughter not to defer it, and was induced by the entreaties of both, though against the scruples of his own civility, to leave Mr. Knightley for that purpose. Mr. Knightley, who had nothing of ceremony about him, was offering by his short, decided answers, an amusing contrast to the protracted apologies and civil hesitations of the other. "Well, I believe, if you will excuse me, Mr. Knightley, if you will not consider me as doing a very rude thing, I shall take Emma's advice and go out for a quarter of an hour. As the sun is out, I believe I had better take my three turns while I can. I treat you without ceremony, Mr. Knightley. We invalids think we are privileged people." "My dear sir, do not make a stranger of me."

"I leave an excellent substitute in my daughter. Emma will be happy to entertain you. And therefore I think I will beg your excuse and take my three turns--my winter walk." "You cannot do better, sir." "I would ask for the pleasure of your company, Mr. Knightley, but I am a very slow walker, and my pace would be tedious to you; and, besides, you have another long walk before you, to Donwell Abbey." "Thank you, sir, thank you; I am going this moment myself; and I think the sooner you go the better. I will fetch your greatcoat and open the garden door for you." Mr. Woodhouse at last was off; but Mr. Knightley, instead of being immediately off likewise, sat down again, seemingly inclined for more chat. He began speaking of Harriet, and speaking of her with more voluntary praise than Emma had ever heard before. "I cannot rate her beauty as you do," said he; "but she is a pretty little creature, and I am inclined to think very well of her disposition. Her character depends upon those she is with; but in good hands she will turn out a valuable woman." "I am glad you think so; and the good hands, I hope, may not be wanting." "Come," said he, "you are anxious for a compliment, so I will tell you that you have improved her. You have cured her of her school-girl's giggle; she really does you credit." "Thank you. I should be mortified indeed if I did not believe I had been of some use; but it is not every body who will bestow praise where they may. You do not often overpower me with it." "You are expecting her again, you say, this morning?" "Almost every moment. She has been gone longer already than she intended." "Something has happened to delay her; some visitors perhaps." "Highbury gossips!--Tiresome wretches!" "Harriet may not consider every body tiresome that you would."

Emma knew this was too true for contradiction, and therefore said nothing. He presently added, with a smile, "I do not pretend to fix on times or places, but I must tell you that I have good reason to believe your little friend will soon hear of something to her advantage." "Indeed! how so? of what sort?" "A very serious sort, I assure you;" still smiling. "Very serious! I can think of but one thing--Who is in love with her? Who makes you their confidant?" Emma was more than half in hopes of Mr. Elton's having dropt a hint. Mr. Knightley was a sort of general friend and adviser, and she knew Mr. Elton looked up to him. "I have reason to think," he replied, "that Harriet Smith will soon have an offer of marriage, and from a most unexceptionable quarter:--Robert Martin is the man. Her visit to Abbey-Mill, this summer, seems to have done his business. He is desperately in love and means to marry her." "He is very obliging," said Emma; "but is he sure that Harriet means to marry him?" "Well, well, means to make her an offer then. Will that do? He came to the Abbey two evenings ago, on purpose to consult me about it. He knows I have a thorough regard for him and all his family, and, I believe, considers me as one of his best friends. He came to ask me whether I thought it would be imprudent in him to settle so early; whether I thought her too young: in short, whether I approved his choice altogether; having some apprehension perhaps of her being considered (especially since your making so much of her) as in a line of society above him. I was very much pleased with all that he said. I never hear better sense from any one than Robert Martin. He always speaks to the purpose; open, straightforward, and very well judging. He told me every thing; his circumstances and plans, and what they all proposed doing in the event of his marriage. He is an excellent young man, both as son and brother. I had no hesitation in advising him to marry. He proved to me that he could afford it; and that being the case, I was convinced he could not do better. I praised the fair lady too, and altogether sent him away very happy. If he had never esteemed my opinion before, he would have thought highly of me then; and, I dare say, left the house thinking me the

" said she. in return for what you have told me. You persuaded her to refuse him. and am rather surprized indeed that he should have ventured to address her. Martin is a very respectable young man." "Nonsense! a man does not imagine any such thing. and said. Was not she the whole day with you?" "Come. "it is always incomprehensible to a man that a woman should ever refuse an offer of marriage. as we may fairly suppose." This was obliged to be repeated before it could be believed. Knightley actually looked red with surprize and displeasure. He did speak yesterday--that is. By your account." "Pray." "You saw her answer!--you wrote her answer too. Goddard's to-day. I am far from allowing) I should not feel that I had done wrong. (which. "I will tell you something. he wrote. Emma. but I hope you are mistaken. and Mr." "And if I did." "I saw her answer!--nothing could be clearer. surprized.best friend and counsellor man ever had. This happened the night before last. as he stood up. But what is the meaning of this? Harriet Smith refuse Robert Martin? madness. it is not unlikely that he should be at Mrs. and as he does not appear to have spoken yesterday. Martin did not speak yesterday?" "Certainly. if it is so. he does seem to have had some scruples. and she may be detained by a visitor. What is the foolish girl about?" "Oh! to be sure." replied he. but it may be inferred." cried Emma. in tall indignation. Mr. "how do you know that Mr. who had been smiling to herself through a great part of this speech. Knightley. It is a pity that they were ever got over. "Then she is a greater simpleton than I ever believed her. Mr." . but I cannot admit him to be Harriet's equal. without thinking him at all a tiresome wretch. however. this is your doing. A man always imagines a woman to be ready for any body who asks her. Now. and was refused." said Emma. "I do not absolutely know it. he would not allow much time to pass before he spoke to the lady.

She is not a sensible girl. he is not her equal indeed. and that is all. Martin may be the richest of the two. your infatuation about that girl blinds you. But I could not reason so to a man in love.--It would be a degradation. a few moments afterwards. and with calmer asperity. Mr. intelligent gentleman-farmer!" . either of birth. and a bad connexion for him. and had not the smallest doubt (nor have I now) that there would be a general cry-out upon her extreme good luck. What! think a farmer. and that as to a rational companion or useful helpmate. She has been taught nothing useful.) a good match for my intimate friend! Not regret her leaving Highbury for the sake of marrying a man whom I could never admit as an acquaintance of my own! I wonder you should think it possible for me to have such feelings. At her age she can have no experience. Emma. I felt that. added. he could not do worse. for the sake of her being settled so well. as to fortune."Not Harriet's equal!" exclaimed Mr. Even your satisfaction I made sure of. I must think your statement by no means fair. is not very likely ever to have any that can avail her. as being beneath his deserts. It crossed my mind immediately that you would not regret your friend's leaving Highbury. which. The advantage of the match I felt to be all on her side. and with her little wit. I assure you mine are very different. to her having that sort of disposition. nor a girl of any information. but he is undoubtedly her inferior as to rank in society. What are Harriet Smith's claims. nature or education. with all her partiality for Harriet.--The sphere in which she moves is much above his. might be easily led aright and turn out very well. "No. to any connexion higher than Robert Martin? She is the natural daughter of nobody knows whom. for he is as much her superior in sense as in situation. My only scruple in advising the match was on his account. and certainly no respectable relations. Martin is nothing more. They would be estimated very differently by others as well as myself. You are not just to Harriet's claims. in all probability he might do much better. will think this a good match. She is known only as parlour-boarder at a common school. in good hands. like his. to be married to a respectable. She is pretty. and she is good tempered. and is too young and too simple to have acquired any thing herself. with probably no settled provision at all. (and with all his sense and all his merit Mr. and was willing to trust to there being no harm in her.'" "I cannot help wondering at your knowing so little of Emma as to say any such thing. Knightley loudly and warmly. `Even Emma." "A degradation to illegitimacy and ignorance. I remember saying to myself.

" said Mr. only pretty and good-natured.--to move. and does not deserve to have her understanding spoken of so slightingly." "Whoever might be her parents. Till you chose to turn her into a friend. if he had not felt persuaded of her not being disinclined to him. I know him well. she chose rather to take up her own line of the subject again. he is the farthest from it of any man I know.--Her allowance is very liberal. He has too much real feeling to address any woman on the haphazard of selfish passion. and supposing her to be. and must be thought so by ninety-nine people out of an hundred. and it was good enough. Goddard's acquaintance."As to the circumstances of her birth. She had no sense of superiority then. but. "whoever may have had the charge of her. "You are a very warm friend to Mr. with such loveliness as Harriet. Goddard's line. are unjust to Harriet. You have been no friend to Harriet Smith.--She is superior to Mr. nor any ambition beyond it.--There can scarcely be a doubt that her father is a gentleman--and a gentleman of fortune. it does not appear to have been any part of their plan to introduce her into what you would call good society. till they do fall in love with well-informed minds instead of handsome faces. Emma. it will not hold in common sense. a beautiful girl. that in the degree she possesses them. let me tell you. no one. Harriet's claims to marry well are not so contemptible as you represent them. that she associates with gentlemen's daughters. to have Mrs. for she is. Robert Martin would never have proceeded so far. as I said before." It was most convenient to Emma not to make a direct reply to this assertion. in short. nothing has ever been grudged for her improvement or comfort. though in a legal sense she may be called Nobody. If she has it now. you have given it. Martin. She is not a clever girl. Robert Martin. by being held below the level of those with whom she is brought up. will deny. and till it appears that men are much more philosophic on the subject of beauty than they are generally supposed. has a certainty of being admired . in fact. Goddard's hands to shift as she can. She is not to pay for the offence of others. however. as you describe her. And as to conceit. I apprehend. Her friends evidently thought this good enough for her. She was as happy as possible with the Martins in the summer. Knightley. her mind had no distaste for her own set. but she has better sense than you are aware of. She desired nothing better herself. is indubitable to me. they are not trivial recommendations to the world in general. After receiving a very indifferent education she is left in Mrs. Depend upon it he had encouragement. a girl.--That she is a gentleman's daughter. in Mrs. Waiving that point.

Goddard's all the rest of her life--or. as it does. and a great readiness to be pleased with other people. Vanity working on a weak head. that. nobody within her reach will be good enough for her. of having the power of chusing from among many. whatever you may chuse to say. real. "though I have kept my thoughts to myself. that there can be no use in canvassing it. the highest claims a woman could possess." said Mr. Her good-nature. . and teach her to be satisfied with nothing less than a man of consequence and large fortune. consequently a claim to be nice. But as to my letting her marry Robert Martin. And is she. do not want silly wives. Men of sense. at least. and such temper. when the mystery of her parentage came to be revealed. Oh! Harriet may pick and chuse.and sought after. Were you. to hear you abusing the reason you have. Better be without sense. Knightley. Miss Harriet Smith may not find offers of marriage flow in so fast. a very humble opinion of herself. than misapply it as you do." "We think so very differently on this point. is not so very slight a claim. Let her marry Robert Martin. in a little while. Men of family would not be very fond of connecting themselves with a girl of such obscurity-. though she is a very pretty girl. Knightley presently. she is the very woman for you. at seventeen. I am very much mistaken if your sex in general would not think such beauty. Mr. and of what she has a claim to.and most prudent men would be afraid of the inconvenience and disgrace they might be involved in. and she is safe." "To be sure!" cried she playfully.) till she grow desperate. I know that such a girl as Harriet is exactly what every man delights in--what at once bewitches his senses and satisfies his judgment. just beginning to be known. but I now perceive that it will be a very unfortunate one for Harriet. "I know that is the feeling of you all." "Upon my word. We shall only be making each other more angry. just entering into life." "I have always thought it a very foolish intimacy. yourself. and happy for ever. too. ever to marry. she may be a parlour-boarder at Mrs. thorough sweetness of temper and manner. is almost enough to make me think so too. Emma. comprehending. respectable. to be wondered at because she does not accept the first offer she receives? No--pray let her have time to look about her. (for Harriet Smith is a girl who will marry somebody or other. Nothing so easy as for a young lady to raise her expectations too high. produces every sort of mischief. and is glad to catch at the old writing-master's son. but if you encourage her to expect to marry greatly. You will puff her up with such ideas of her own beauty.

But the case is altered now. Elton is a very good sort of man. Elton may talk sentimentally. He knows the value of a good income as well as any body. but as you make no secret of your love of match-making. it is fair to suppose that views." Emma laughed and disclaimed. which made her dislike having it so loudly against her. she still thought herself a better judge of such a point of female right and refinement than he could be. but he made no answer. but he will act rationally. while she was at Abbey-Mill. whatever it may be." "Nonsense. I will not pretend to say that I might not influence her a little. Knightley. she might tolerate him. and as to the refusal itself.--"Robert Martin's manners have sense. She did not repent what she had done. as must prevent any second application. His appearance is so much against him." Emma made no answer. "Robert Martin has no great loss--if he can but think so. but not at all likely to make an imprudent match. The result of his thoughts appeared at last in these words. and his mind has more true gentility than Harriet Smith could understand. and he took pains to please her. as ever was talked!" cried Mr. and nothing but a gentleman in education and manner has any chance with Harriet. and plans. sincerity. She must abide by the evil of having refused him. and tried to look cheerfully unconcerned. and projects you have. that if she ever were disposed to favour him. and his manner so bad. having seen nobody better (that must have been his great assistant) she might not. and altogether. I can imagine. He was thinking. she is not now. that before she had seen any body superior. and so decidedly. Some minutes passed in this unpleasant silence. was very disagreeable. He continued. "Depend upon it. with only one attempt on Emma's side to talk of the weather. errant nonsense. I think. He is as well acquainted with his own claims. I think it will be all labour in vain. and good-humour to recommend them. She knows now what gentlemen are. and a very respectable vicar of Highbury. find him disagreeable. she has refused him. but I assure you there was very little for me or for any body to do. Your views for Harriet are best known to yourself.--and as a friend I shall just hint to you that if Elton is the man. and I hope it will not be long before he does. He was the brother of her friends.it is impossible. but was really feeling uncomfortable and wanting him very much to be gone. as you . but yet she had a sort of habitual respect for his judgment in general. Elton will not do. and to have him sitting just opposite to her in angry state.

" said Emma. but there was more indistinctness in the causes of her's. She was not so materially cast down. as Mr. and when Harriet appeared. He had frightened her a little about Mr. Elton. but that a little time and the return of Harriet were very adequate restoratives. He knows that he is a very handsome young man. and in very good spirits. and the part which he was persuaded Emma had taken in the affair. I have done with match-making indeed. I am convinced that he does not mean to throw himself away."--said he. however. "If I had set my heart on Mr. and was mortified to have been the means of promoting it. in spite of Mr. by the sanction he had given. that he had spoken it hastily and in anger. that he had rather said what he wished resentfully to be true. Elton's marrying Harriet. who have all twenty thousand pounds apiece. and convinced her. but at present I only want to keep Harriet to myself. nor (she must be allowed to tell herself. than in his. and without having any such reason to give for her long absence. Knightley think or say what he would. She did not always feel so absolutely satisfied with herself." "Good morning to you. it would have been very kind to open my eyes. rising and walking off abruptly. The dread of such a failure after all became the prominent uneasiness. gave alarming ideas. laughing again. The possibility of the young man's coming to Mrs. that let Mr.can be with Harriet's. and from his general way of talking in unreserved moments. I shall leave off while I am well. He felt the disappointment of the young man. Knightley's pretensions) with the skill of such an observer on such a question as herself. and a great favourite wherever he goes. so entirely convinced that her opinions were right and her adversary's wrong. but when she considered that Mr. was provoking him exceedingly. she had done nothing which woman's friendship and woman's feelings would not justify. than what he knew . He walked off in more complete self-approbation than he left for her." "I am very much obliged to you. Knightley could not have observed him as she had done. Goddard's that morning. and meeting with Harriet and pleading his own cause. I could never hope to equal my own doings at Randalls. I have heard him speak with great animation of a large family of young ladies that his sisters are intimate with. she felt a satisfaction which settled her with her own mind. she was able to believe. Harriet's staying away so long was beginning to make her uneasy. Emma remained in a state of vexation too. when there are only men present. neither with the interest. He was very much vexed. Knightley.

Mr. Martin. but it would not do. that as he was coming back yesterday from Clayton Park. beyond a doubt. looking so very significantly at her. that it was longer than usual before he came to Hartfield again. but she saw too much of it to feel a doubt of its overcoming any hesitations that a reasonable prudence might originally suggest. and rode off in great spirits. she should think the luckiest woman in the world. Knightley saw no such passion. Goddard's to attend a sick child. Miss Nash had told her all this. Miss Nash had been telling her something. becoming degree of prudence. She was sorry. though it was the whist-club night. and had talked a great deal more about Mr. Mr. Knightley might quarrel with her. Perry could not quite understand him. and more than a reasonable. Elton had not his equal for beauty or agreeableness. and when they did meet. Elton speak with more unreserve than she had ever done. and found to his great surprize. inconsiderate disposition as to money matters. that he was going on business which he would not put off for any inducement in the world. Elton could prefer. but then. for. and of course thought nothing of its effects. Elton might not be of an imprudent. but Emma could not quarrel with herself. Elton only looked very conscious and smiling. to absent himself. and not meaning to return till the morrow. he had met Mr. her plans and proceedings . Knightley did not make due allowance for the influence of a strong passion at war with all interested motives. and he told him so. she was very sure did not belong to Mr. his grave looks shewed that she was not forgiven. Mr. Elton. Perry had been to Mrs. and being the bearer of something exceedingly precious. Mr. but to talk of Mr. that Mr. Elton. and Miss Nash had seen him. and had said in a very particular way indeed. and Mr. and he had told Miss Nash. and said. but he was very sure there must be a lady in the case. Elton had been determined to go on. Elton was actually on his road to London. Mr. Mr. He certainly might have heard Mr." Volume One Chapter Nine Mr. On the contrary. and tried very much to persuade him to put off his journey only one day. Harriet's cheerful look and manner established hers: she came back. and something about a very enviable commission. which he had been never known to miss before. Elton. their best player. and Mr. Perry had remonstrated with him about it.any thing about. and told him how shabby it was in him. he might naturally be rather attentive than otherwise to them. "that she did not pretend to understand what his business might be. Elton. which she repeated immediately with great delight. but could not repent. and Mr. not to think of Mr. but she only knew that any woman whom Mr. He was so much displeased.

Her views of improving her little friend's mind. than as he furnished a contrast with Mr. Emma assisted with her invention. made up by her friend. was the collecting and transcribing all the riddles of every sort that she could meet with. they were visibly forming themselves into as strong and steady an attachment as her youth and sort of mind admitted.he wondered he could not remember them! but he hoped he should in time. head-teacher at Mrs. memory and taste. might come from that quarter. Goddard's. and as he went about so much. and being hung over the mantelpiece of the common sitting-room. came safely to hand soon after Mr. had written out at least three hundred. Woodhouse was almost as much interested in the business as the girls. in form as well as quantity. such collections on a very grand scale are not uncommon. had never yet led to more than a few first chapters. Miss Nash. and sighed out his half sentences of admiration just as he ought." And it always ended in "Kitty. and the intention of going on to-morrow. and tried very often to recollect something worth their putting in. It was much easier to chat than to study. In this age of literature. Emma was soon perfectly satisfied of Mr. he got up to look at it." His good friend Perry. "So many clever riddles as there used to be when he was young-. the only mental provision she was making for the evening of life. and the only literary pursuit which engaged Harriet at present. into a thin quarto of hot-pressed paper. Elton . who had taken the first hint of it from her. Mr. and ornamented with ciphers and trophies. It was by no means his daughter's wish that the intellects of Highbury in general should be put under requisition. and as for Harriet's feelings. and Harriet. but he had desired Perry to be upon the watch. much pleasanter to let her imagination range and work at Harriet's fortune. did not at present recollect any thing of the riddle kind. it was likely to be an arrangement of the first order. whom he had spoken to on the subject. by a great deal of useful reading and conversation.were more and more justified and endeared to her by the general appearances of the next few days. than to be labouring to enlarge her comprehension or exercise it on sober facts. Elton's return. with Miss Woodhouse's help. The Picture. of the utmost advantage to the latter. to get a great many more. a fair but frozen maid. he thought. too. and as Harriet wrote a very pretty hand. something. Elton. Mr. Martin's being no otherwise remembered. elegantly framed. hoped.

and at the same time. I have no right to expose it in any degree to the public eye."or Miss Smith could inspire him. hardly ever. He was invited to contribute any really good enigmas. but perhaps you may not dislike looking at it. and nothing could be easier to you. "Why will not you write one yourself for us. as he said. and the joy and exultation with which at last he recalled. just to leave a piece of paper on the table containing. My first doth affliction denote. that well-known charade. any thing of the kind in his life." . There was deep consciousness about him. "Take it. most earnestly careful that nothing ungallant. which Emma could understand." said Emma. from his manner.was the only one whose assistance she asked. The stupidest fellow! He was afraid not even Miss Woodhouse"--he stopt a moment-. Mr." said he. smiling. charades." "Oh no! he had never written. They owed to him their two or three politest puzzles. a charade. Take your own. nothing that did not breathe a compliment to the sex should pass his lips. but which. the object of his admiration. and she had the pleasure of seeing him most intently at work with his recollections. Emma was immediately convinced must be his own. He was gone the next moment:--after another moment's pause." The speech was more to Emma than to Harriet. Which my second is destin'd to feel And my whole is the best antidote That affliction to soften and heal." The very next day however produced some proof of inspiration. "that is the only security for its freshness. Elton?" said she. "I do not offer it for Miss Smith's collection.-made her quite sorry to acknowledge that they had transcribed it some pages ago already. and pushing the paper towards Harriet--"it is for you. which a friend of his had addressed to a young lady. "Being my friend's. He called for a few moments. as she could perceive. and rather sentimentally recited. and he found it easier to meet her eye than her friend's. or conundrums that he might recollect.

Approve my charade and my intentions in the same glance. Mr. This is feeling your way. and then passing it to Harriet.But Harriet was in a tremor. I give you credit for it. reigns alone.`Pray. never loth to be first. and quite mistress of the lines. to describe her so. the monarch of the seas! But ah! united. read it through again to be quite certain. Lord of the earth and sea. sat happily smiling.~` Behold him there. May its approval beam in that soft eye! She cast her eye over it. I have read worse charades. "Very well. Courtship--a very good hint. Another view of man. all are flown. Thy ready wit the word will soon supply. My first displays the wealth and pomp of kings. lovely woman. Knightley. very well indeed. and Emma. And woman. the justest that could be given. Ah! Mr. was obliged to examine it herself. pondered. Lords of the earth! their luxury and ease. Miss Smith. . what reverse we have! Man's boasted power and freedom. give me leave to pay my addresses to you. indeed. while Harriet was puzzling over the paper in all the confusion of hope and dulness. and could not touch it. A man must be very much in love. I think this would convince you. and saying to herself. This is saying very plainly-. Elton. Soft is the very word for her eye--of all epithets. I wish you had the benefit of this. Thy ready wit the word will soon supply. To Miss-CHARADE.' May its approval beam in that soft eye! Harriet exactly. he bends a slave. caught the meaning. my second brings. Humph--Harriet's ready wit! All the better.

(courtship. Is it kingdom? I wonder who the friend was--and who could be the young lady. all are flown. no! shark is only one syllable. Behold him there. which were otherwise of a sort to run into great length. . reigns alone. Can it be Neptune? Behold him there. Do help me. do you think we shall ever find it out?" "Mermaids and sharks! Nonsense! My dear Harriet. or he would not have brought it. lovely woman. "What can it be. For Miss ----------. My first displays the wealth and pomp of kings. what are you thinking of? Where would be the use of his bringing us a charade made by a friend upon a mermaid or a shark? Give me the paper and listen. But ah! united. I never saw any thing so hard. Oh! Miss Woodhouse. Another view of man. Miss Woodhouse. An excellent charade indeed! and very much to the purpose. read Miss Smith.--plain as it can be. Miss Woodhouse?--what can it be? I have not an idea--I cannot guess it in the least. It must be very clever. Do you think it is a good one? Can it be woman? And woman. the monarch of the seas! Or a trident? or a mermaid? or a shark? Oh. my second brings. Lords of the earth! their luxury and ease. you know. That is court.--Now for the cream.) what reverse we have! Man's boasted power and freedom. Things must come to a crisis soon now. What can it possibly be? Do try to find it out.For once in your life you would be obliged to own yourself mistaken. by the eagerness of Harriet's wondering questions." She was obliged to break off from these very pleasant observations. the monarch of the seas! That is ship.

the state of his mind is as clear and decided. I could never tell whether an attachment between you and Mr. "and therefore I suppose. my dear Harriet." Dear me. and remembered just as she ought. Harriet. Only think of those sweet verses--"To Miss --------. Yes. but otherwise I could not have imagined it. my dear Harriet. a proper home--it will fix you in the centre of all your real friends." said she. and so particular a meaning in this compliment. He is so very superior. Its probability and its eligibility have really so equalled each other! I am very happy. It was enough for her to feel. I thought it must be so. Elton were most desirable or most natural. And woman. "There is so pointed. anticipated. with many tender embraces could articulate at first. Harriet. Read it in comfort to yourself. you cannot find much difficulty in comprehending." was all that Harriet." "Dear Miss Woodhouse!"--and "Dear Miss Woodhouse. is an alliance which can never raise a blush in either of us. "that I cannot have a doubt as to Mr. This is a connexion which offers nothing but good." Harriet could not long resist so delightful a persuasion. how clever!--Could it really be meant for me?" . There can be no doubt of its being written for you and to you. She could not speak. lovely woman. A very proper compliment!--and then follows the application. Elton's intentions. which I think. I congratulate you. it was sufficiently clear to her friend that she saw. You are his object-. and was all flutter and happiness. This is an attachment which a woman may well feel pride in creating. it is clear. Elton. but when they did arrive at something more like conversation. and believe. felt. with all my heart. but now. who might marry any body! There cannot be two opinions about him. just so long have I been wanting the very circumstance to happen what has happened. and hope it must be so.Lord of the earth and sea. independence. and confirm our intimacy for ever. It will give you every thing that you want--consideration. I thought I could not be so deceived. Mr. This. he bends a slave. close to Hartfield and to me. Elton's superiority had very ample acknowledgment. But she was not wanted to speak. It is so much beyond any thing I deserve. She read the concluding lines.and you will soon receive the completest proof of it. reigns alone. Mr. as my wishes on the subject have been ever since I knew you. Emma spoke for her." cried Harriet. "Whatever you say is always right.

Eltons get acquainted--they do indeed--and really it is strange. There does seem to be a something in the air of Hartfield which gives love exactly the right direction.--if they wish to have you settled in the same country and circle which they have chosen . here is a man whose amiable character gives every assurance of it. and sends it into the very channel where it ought to flow. quite like Mr. Your marrying will be equal to the match at Randalls. that he has more invitations than there are days in the week. You and Mr."I cannot make a question. and a man that every body looks up to. And so excellent in the Church! Miss Nash has put down all the texts he has ever preached from since he came to Highbury. Elton are by situation called together. of all people. and will be soon followed by matter-of-fact prose. It is a sort of prologue to the play. I had no more idea myself!--The strangest things do take place!" "When Miss Smiths and Mr. Elton should really be in love with me. and staid to look through herself. should so immediately shape itself into the proper form. the very handsomest man that ever was. Receive it on my judgment. whoever--whatever your friends may be. must be agreeable to them. and Miss Nash came and scolded us away. Cole. a month ago. however. provided at least they have common sense. to speak to him." "This is an alliance which. Knightley! His company so sought after. it is out of the common course that what is so evidently. And how beautiful we thought he looked! He was arm-in-arm with Mr. If they are anxious to see you happily married. Dear me! When I look back to the first time I saw him! How little did I think!-. who did not know him. and we are not to be addressing our conduct to fools.--me. that every body says he need not eat a single meal by himself if he does not chuse it. you belong to one another by every circumstance of your respective homes.The two Abbots and I ran into the front room and peeped through the blind when we heard he was going by. so palpably desirable--what courts the pre-arrangement of other people. The course of true love never did run smooth-A Hartfield edition of Shakespeare would have a long note on that passage. she called me back presently. or listen to a question about that." "That Mr. and let me look too. which was very good-natured. a motto to the chapter." "It is a sort of thing which nobody could have expected. at Michaelmas! And he. I am sure. It is a certainty.

and if there is any thing to say. and say just what you must.--Your soft eyes shall chuse their own time for beaming.to place you in. very true. to write verses and charades like this. and some nonsense or other will pass between us. How nicely you talk. Trust to me. by his manner of declining it yesterday. The most satisfactory comparisons were rising in her mind. here is the comfortable fortune. This charade!--If I had studied a twelvemonth. and another. what can we do about that?" "Leave it to me. in the common phrase. "It is one thing." "Oh! Miss Woodhouse. and then I will give it him back." "I do think it is." Emma could not have desired a more spirited rejection of Mr. certainly. without exception. I dare say. the best charade I ever read." said she. You understand every thing." "It is as long again as almost all we have had before. You do nothing. presently--her cheeks in a glow--"to have very good sense in a common way. in a short way. or say I have found it out?--Oh! Miss Woodhouse. to sit down and write a letter. and if their only object is that you should." . like every body else. Such things in general cannot be too short. "Such sweet lines!" continued Harriet--"these two last!--But how shall I ever be able to return the paper. Elton are one as clever as the other. Martin's prose." Harriet was too intent on the lines to hear." "Yes. I could never have made any thing like it. be well married. here it will be accomplished." "I do not consider its length as particularly in its favour. You and Mr. what a pity that I must not write this beautiful charade into my book! I am sure I have not got one half so good." "I thought he meant to try his skill. the respectable establishment. the rise in the world which must satisfy them." "I never read one more to the purpose. and you shall not be committed. He will be here this evening. I love to hear you.

Depend upon it. Granted.You must let me read it to him." Harriet submitted. They are not at all the less written you know." said she. or neither. I will write it down. nor does its meaning change. and the longer it lasts. "My dear Harriet. He has the tenderest spirit of gallantry towards us all!-. and all appropriation ceases. he would not have left the paper while I was by. It will be giving him so much pleasure! He loves any thing of the sort. much better than his passion. you must not refine too much upon this charade. fit for any collection. "I shall never let that book go out of my own hands." Harriet looked grave. he would not like to have his charade slighted." . and for private enjoyment keep them." "Oh! no--I hope I shall not be ridiculous about it."Leave out the two last lines. He has encouragement enough to proceed. and a very pretty gallant charade remains. so as to feel quite sure that her friend were not writing down a declaration of love. Do not be overpowered by such a little tribute of admiration. "a most natural feeling. Do as you please. the better I shall be pleased." replied Emma." "Oh! but those two lines are"---"The best of all.--for private enjoyment. and especially any thing that pays woman a compliment. because you divide them. If he had been anxious for secrecy. A poet in love must be encouraged in both capacities.--You will betray your feelings improperly. "Very well. Do not let us be too solemn on the business. But take it away. or even quite all the meaning which may be affixed to it. The couplet does not cease to be. and then there can be no possible reflection on you. without our sighing out our souls over this charade. It seemed too precious an offering for any degree of publicity. Give me the book. but he rather pushed it towards me than towards you. But here is my father coming: you will not object to my reading the charade to him. and there is no reason why you should not write it into your book. if you are too conscious and too quick. though her mind could hardly separate the parts. and appear to affix more meaning.

--After a little thinking.--not even that particular riddle which you have heard me mention. and smiled.--I wish I could recollect more of it. and." "Yes. indeed. just as he liked to have any thing read. how does your book go on?--Have you got any thing fresh?" "Yes. papa. "Aye. and two or three times over. . And that is all that I can recollect of it--but it is very clever all the way through. my dear. papa. that's very just. my dear. and a very tender sigh." Emma only nodded.and he was very much pleased. lovely woman. So fatal to my suit before. and very soon led to the subject again. A piece of paper was found on the table this morning--(dropt.Nobody could have written so prettily. my dears. Kindled a flame I yet deplore. he added. by a fairy)-.' It is such a pretty charade. We copied it from the Elegant Extracts." "Aye. something quite fresh. "Ah! it is no difficulty to see who you take after! Your dear mother was so clever at all those things! If I had but her memory! But I can remember nothing. Very true. Emma. I can only recollect the first stanza. as she had foreseen.Mr. that's very properly said. But I think. The hood-wink'd boy I called to aid. Kitty. you said you had got it. and there are several. Though of his near approach afraid. it is written out in our second page. but you. with explanations of every part as she proceeded-. and we have just copied it in. slowly and distinctly. that I can easily guess what fairy brought it. Woodhouse came in. especially struck with the complimentary conclusion.containing a very pretty charade. we have something to read you.-. It was Garrick's. very true. by the recurrence of his very frequent inquiry of "Well. a fair but frozen maid. we suppose. `Woman." She read it to him. you know.

the room she always has. Knightley's claims on his brother. and then said. my dear. except his own. "But I do not see why poor Isabella should be obliged to go back so soon." . not to see Miss Taylor here!" "She will not be surprized. that two or three days are not to be taken out for the Abbey. John Knightley's being a lawyer is very inconvenient. papa. my dear. and then only for a few days. if poor Isabella were to be anywhere but at Hartfield. indeed. I think. Mr.though you know it is longer since they were with him. There will not be time for any thing. I shall try and persuade her to stay longer with us. than with us." Mr. a fair but frozen maid. I am sure I was very much surprized when I first heard she was going to be married. and we ought to be thankful. where you shall put her--and what room there will be for the children?" "Oh! yes--she will have her own room. The name makes me think of poor Isabella. Why should there be any change?" "I do not know. my dear--but it is so long since she was here!--not since last Easter.--But--(in a very depressed tone)--she is coming for only one week." "We must ask Mr. Mr." "It is unfortunate that they cannot stay longer--but it seems a case of necessity. She and the children might stay very well.Kitty. Knightley promises to give up his claim this Christmas-." "It would be very hard." "I do not know. Have you thought.--and there is the nursery for the children.--Poor Isabella!--she is sadly taken away from us all!--and how sorry she will be when she comes. papa. Emma.--just as usual. Weston to dine with us. while Isabella is here. John Knightley must be in town again on the 28th. or any body's claims on Isabella. He sat musing a little while. Woodhouse could never allow for Mr. you know. of course." "Yes. if there is time. my dear.--Mr. my dear. and Mrs. I hope we shall have her here next week. for she was very near being christened Catherine after her grandmama. though he does. that we are to have the whole of the time they can give to the country. at least.

"Ah! papa--that is what you never have been able to accomplish. you would not think him rough. Unwelcome as it was. are not we. I wonder which she will. that the eldest was not. and I do not think you ever will. but John is very like his mama. and as Emma saw his spirits affected by the idea of his daughter's attachment to her husband. I am sure I do not know who is not. Isabella cannot bear to stay behind her husband. indeed. Woodhouse could only give a submissive sigh. I believe. John Knightley is an affectionate father." said Emma. And he is a very clever boy. and tosses them up to the ceiling in a very frightful way!" "But they like it. Poor little dears." "Well. papa? I wonder which she will think the handsomest. can you give me a bit of string?' and once Henry asked me for a knife. is named after his father. Some people are surprized." "I dare say they are. which I thought very pretty of her. but he is an affectionate father--certainly Mr. but Isabella would have him called Henry. I am sure she will be pleased with the children." "And then their uncle comes in. `Grandpapa." This was too true for contradiction." "He appears rough to you. whichever began would never give way to the other. he was named after me. They will come and stand by my chair." . sir. and they have so many pretty ways." "Henry is a fine boy. there is nothing they like so much. We are very proud of the children. and if they misbehave. papa. Henry or John?" "Aye. Henry is the eldest. but I told him knives were only made for grandpapas. It is such enjoyment to them. can give them a sharp word now and then. "Harriet must give us as much of her company as she can while my brother and sister are here. The children are all fond of him. He wishes his boys to be active and hardy. the second. how glad they will be to come. They are very fond of being at Hartfield. Mr. and say. John. They are all remarkably clever. "because you are so very gentle yourself. I think their father is too rough with them very often. Harriet. that if their uncle did not lay down the rule of their taking turns. she immediately led to such a branch of the subject as must raise them. but if you could compare him with other papas. not after his father. I cannot understand it.

and just as the girls were going to separate in preparation for the regular four o'clock dinner. With the view of passing off an awkward moment. but Emma could receive him with the usual smile. or whether he should be in the smallest degree necessary at Hartfield. took it up. but so good a charade must not be confined to one or two. Your friend will not take it amiss I hope."That is the case with us all. for with all his good and agreeable qualities. was to ask whether Mr. could he see his little effusion honoured as I see it." replied Mr. Of course I have not transcribed beyond the first eight lines. the hero of this inimitable charade walked in again. (looking at the book again. every thing else must give way. One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other. Emma could not think it too soon. Emma smilingly said. her father was sure of his rubber. though hesitating a good deal while he spoke. "I have no hesitation in saying--at least if my friend feels at all as I do--I have not the smallest doubt that. Elton certainly did not very well know what to say. Harriet turned away. He looked rather doubtingly--rather confused. however. he would consider it as the proudest moment of his life. and then seeing the book open on the table." After this speech he was gone as soon as possible." Later in the morning."--glanced at Emma and at Harriet. His ostensible reason. thank you for the sight of it. papa. . and her quick eye soon discerned in his the consciousness of having made a push--of having thrown a die. If he were. that he had promised him conditionally to come. and she imagined he was come to see how it might turn up. He re-urged --she re-declined. said something about "honour." Mr. He may be sure of every woman's approbation while he writes with such gallantry. Woodhouse's party could be made up in the evening without him. that I have ventured to write it into Miss Smith's collection. but could not allow of his disappointing his friend on their account. she returned it-"Oh! here is the charade you were so obliging as to leave with us. "You must make my apologies to your friend. We admired it so much. Elton. and he seemed then about to make his bow." "I have no hesitation in saying. Emma thanked him. when taking the paper from the table. and replacing it on the table). and examined it very attentively. but otherwise his friend Cole had been saying so much about his dining with him--had made such a point of it.

as may be inferred. what a sweet house!--How very beautiful!--There are the yellow curtains that Miss Nash admires so much. "I wish we could contrive it. had never in her life been within side the Vicarage. and." said she. Elton's seeing ready wit in her. Their road to this detached cottage was down Vicarage Lane. Elton. with Mr." She pondered. but could think of nothing. Emma had a charitable visit to pay to a poor sick family. or going to be married! so charming as you are!"-- . main street of the place. It had no advantage of situation. there could be no possibility of the two friends passing it without a slackened pace and observing eyes. Emma could only class it. a lane leading at right angles from the broad. that. but had been very much smartened up by the present proprietor. though irregular." Harriet. as a proof of love. "but I cannot think of any tolerable pretence for going in.--Emma's remark was-"There it is. such as it was. and her curiosity to see it was so extreme. as they proceeded. She ran away to indulge the inclination. Harriet thus began again-"I do so wonder. and I shall gradually get intimately acquainted with all the hedges."-Harriet's was-"Oh." "I do not often walk this way now. an old and not very good house. about a quarter of a mile down the lane rose the Vicarage. almost as close to the road as it could be. pools and pollards of this part of Highbury. After a mutual silence of some minutes. A few inferior dwellings were first to be passed. Miss Woodhouse. who lived a little way out of Highbury. containing the blessed abode of Mr. that you should not be married. and on the morrow. There go you and your riddle-book one of these days. considering exteriors and probabilities. there had yet been no weather to prevent the young ladies from tolerably regular exercise.there was a sort of parade in his speeches which was very apt to incline her to laugh.--no servant that I want to inquire about of his housekeeper--no message from my father." said Emma. she found. Volume One Chapter Ten Though now the middle of December. leaving the tender and the sublime of pleasure to Harriet's share. and then. gates. and. "but then there will be an inducement.

and never. but I cannot believe it." "I must see somebody very superior to any one I have seen yet. and if I thought I should ever be like Miss Bates! so silly--so satisfied-so smiling--so prosing--so undistinguishing and unfastidious-and so apt to tell every thing relative to every body about me. And I am not only. with a very narrow income. I am sure I should be a fool to change such a situation as mine. of good fortune. must be a ridiculous. you will be an old maid! and that's so dreadful!" "Never mind. Elton. consequence I do not want: I believe few married women are half as much mistress of their husband's house as I am of Hartfield." "Ah!--so you say. except in being unmarried. employment I do not want. is not quite enough to induce me to marry. I must find other people charming--one other person at least. I shall not be a poor old maid. like Miss Bates!" "That is as formidable an image as you could present.) is out of the question: and I do not wish to see any such person. or my nature. I am convinced there never can be any likeness. at present." "But still. is always respectable. (recollecting herself. I cannot really change for the better. disagreeable old maid! the proper sport of boys and girls. to be an old maid at last. I would marry to-morrow. so always first and always right in any man's eyes as I am in my father's. and replied. And the distinction is not quite so much against the candour and common . and I do not think I ever shall. And. and may be as sensible and pleasant as any body else. Mr.Emma laughed. Fortune I do not want. I would rather not be tempted. it is not my way. and it is poverty only which makes celibacy contemptible to a generous public! A single woman." "Dear me!--it is so odd to hear a woman talk so!"-"I have none of the usual inducements of women to marry. not going to be married. you know. But between us. to be tempted. Harriet. indeed. it would be a different thing! but I never have been in love. "My being charming. I must expect to repent it. without love. Were I to fall in love. Harriet." "But then. but have very little intention of ever marrying at all. If I were to marry. but a single woman. Harriet. never could I expect to be so truly beloved and important.

I shall read more. and nobody is afraid of her: that is a great charm. or with no important variation. but. it suits my ideas of comfort better than what is warmer and blinder. with a great many independent resources. one hears of nothing else for a month. however. Those who can barely live. she would be very likely to give away sixpence of it. and though my attachment to none can equal that of a parent. and generally very inferior. we are always forced to be acquainted whenever she comes to Highbury." . One is sick of the very name of Jane Fairfax." "Do you know Miss Bates's niece? That is. And as for objects of interest. with all the children of a sister I love so much. I shall be very well off. and sour the temper. mine is an active. may well be illiberal and cross. in all probability. Every letter from her is read forty times over. I shall take to carpet-work. objects for the affections. she is very much to the taste of every body. and if she does but send her aunt the pattern of a stomacher. By the bye. I wish Jane Fairfax very well. the want of which is really the great evil to be avoided in not marrying." "Dear me! but what shall you do? how shall you employ yourself when you grow old?" "If I know myself. she is only too good natured and too silly to suit me. If I draw less. Harriet. There will be enough of them. if I give up music. in general. which is in truth the great point of inferiority. I know you must have seen her a hundred times--but are you acquainted?" "Oh! yes. Poverty certainly has not contracted her mind: I really believe. society. though single and though poor. busy mind. if she had only a shilling in the world. her compliments to all friends go round and round again. My nephews and nieces!--I shall often have a niece with me. This does not apply. Woman's usual occupations of hand and mind will be as open to me then as they are now. Heaven forbid! at least. to care about. as she does about Jane Fairfax. to supply every sort of sensation that declining life can need. to Miss Bates. or knit a pair of garters for her grandmother. but she tires me to death. There will be enough for every hope and every fear. that is almost enough to put one out of conceit with a niece. that I should ever bore people half so much about all the Knightleys together. and I do not perceive why I should be more in want of employment at forty or fifty than one-and-twenty. for a very narrow income has a tendency to contract the mind. and who live perforce in a very small.sense of the world as appears at first.

He had been going to call on them. "These are the sights. yes. His visit he would now defer. enough to do all we can for them. "Oh! dear. Mr. and so near as to give Emma time only to say farther. as they walked away. could allow for their ignorance and their temptations. Harriet." before the gentleman joined them. "Poor creatures! one can think of nothing else.) I hope it may be allowed that if compassion has produced exertion and relief to the sufferers. They walked on. as from her purse. she quitted the cottage with such an impression of the scene as made her say to Harriet. were the first subject on meeting. as she crossed the low hedge. The lane made a slight bend. no. to do one good." said Emma. it has done all that is truly important. her counsel and her patience. I do not think the impression will soon be over.They were now approaching the cottage. and all idle topics were superseded. and always gave her assistance with as much intelligence as good-will." stopping to look once more at all the outward wretchedness of the place. slippery path through the cottage garden. "I do not think it will." Harriet could just answer. here comes a very sudden trial of our stability in good thoughts. How trifling they make every thing else appear!--I feel now as if I could think of nothing but these poor creatures all the rest of the day. the rest is empty sympathy. had no romantic expectations of extraordinary virtue from those for whom education had done so little. Elton was immediately in sight. and tottering footstep which ended the narrow. and recall the still greater within. who can say how soon it may all vanish from my mind?" "Very true. (smiling. it was sickness and poverty together which she came to visit. If we feel for the wretched. "Oh! dear. only distressing to ourselves. and brought them into the lane again." said her companion. and yet. The wants and sufferings of the poor family. Well. but they had a very . She understood their ways. "Ah! Harriet. and after remaining there as long as she could give comfort or advice." said Harriet. and the distresses of the poor were as sure of relief from her personal attention and kindness. however. Emma was very compassionate." "And really. entered into their troubles with ready sympathy. In the present instance. and when that bend was passed.

was beginning to think how she might draw back a little more. She gained on them. being overtaken by a child from the cottage. and she would follow in half a minute. was the most natural thing in the world. having sent the child on. still engaged in some interesting detail. the butter. a little raised on one side of the lane." Anxious to separate herself from them as far as she could. and Emma experienced some disappointment when she found that he was only giving his fair companion an account of the yesterday's party at his friend Cole's. without any obligation of waiting for her. They did as they were desired. in short. "To fall in with each other on such an errand as this." was her consoling reflection. and that she was come in herself for the Stilton cheese. involuntarily: the child's pace was quick. setting out. with her pitcher. the cellery. the beet-root. I should not wonder if it were to bring on the declaration. I wish I were anywhere else. under pretence of having some alteration to make in the lacing of her half-boot. Elton was still talking. leaving them together in the main road. Elton then turned back to accompany them. of course. to fetch broth from Hartfield. from their being evidently in a conversation which interested them. Mr. had she been acting just then without design. "to meet in a charitable scheme. Harriet listening with a very pleased attention. Mr. and she was obliged to join them. "any thing interests between those who love." thought Emma. she immediately stopped. It must. the north Wiltshire. To walk by the side of this child. this will bring a great increase of love on each side. But she had not been there two minutes when she found that Harriet's habits of dependence and imitation were bringing her up too. and by this means the others were still able to keep ahead. according to orders. "This would soon have led to something better. when they both looked around. and stooping down in complete occupation of the footpath. and by the time she judged it reasonable to have done with her boot. and she was the more concerned at it. Mr. she had the comfort of farther delay in her power. and that.interesting parley about what could be done and should be done. however. and all the dessert. begged them to have the goodness to walk on. or would have been the most natural. Elton was speaking with animation. they would both be soon after her. If I could but have kept longer away!" . This would not do. and talk to and question her. and theirs rather slow. she soon afterwards took possession of a narrow footpath. and any thing will serve as introduction to what is near the heart. if I were not here. and Emma.

he had not come to the point. I really am a most troublesome companion to you both. and make her appearance. and." thought Emma. I must beg leave to stop at your house. For ten minutes she could hear nothing but herself. "Part of my lace is gone. but she fully intended that Mr. but nothing serious. and fall behind to arrange it once more. she could not but flatter herself that it had been the occasion of much present enjoyment to both. and must be leading them forward to the great event. It had a most favourable aspect. Elton. and ask your housekeeper for a bit of ribband or string. she hoped to make it practicable for him to chuse his own subject in the adjoining room. It could be protracted no longer. but by engaging the housekeeper in incessant conversation. The lovers were standing together at one of the windows. "he advances inch by inch. of at least getting Harriet into the house. "and I do not know how I am to contrive. He had been most agreeable. But it would not do. She was then obliged to be finished. and nothing could exceed his alertness and attention in conducting them into his house and endeavouring to make every thing appear to advantage.They now walked on together quietly. he had told Harriet that he had seen them go by." Mr. "Cautious. and dexterously throwing it into a ditch. and had purposely followed them. though every thing had not been accomplished by her ingenious device. and will hazard nothing till he believes himself secure. it still remained ajar. The room they were taken into was the one he chiefly occupied. but I hope I am not often so ill-equipped. when a sudden resolution. most delightful. other little gallantries and allusions had been dropt. behind it was another with which it immediately communicated. Emma felt the glory of having schemed successfully. however. It was not closed. She was obliged to leave the door ajar as she found it. or any thing just to keep my boot on. till within view of the vicarage pales." said she. Elton should close it. . for half a minute. made her again find something very much amiss about her boot. Mr. and Emma passed into it with the housekeeper to receive her assistance in the most comfortable manner. the door between them was open. very cautious. was presently obliged to entreat them to stop." Still. however. and looking forwards. Elton looked all happiness at this proposition. She then broke the lace off short. and acknowledged her inability to put herself to rights so as to be able to walk home in tolerable comfort.

Till this year. the many to be talked to. the children were never allowed to be long a disturbance to him. John Knightley. Woodhouse. who could not be induced to get so far as London. they must advance somehow or other whether they would or no. John Knightley. The bustle and joy of such an arrival. were exciting of course rather more than the usual interest. and not a little of the fatigues of his own horses and coachman who were to bring some of the party the last half of the way. the sixteen miles being happily accomplished. There are people. and variously dispersed and disposed of. and for their having instantly all the liberty and attendance. produced a noise and confusion which his nerves could not have borne under any other cause. He thought much of the evils of the journey for her. which they could possibly wish for. quiet manners. fortuitous assistance could be afforded by her to the lovers. that first in anticipation. either in themselves or in any restless attendance on them. of gentle. welcomed. who the more you do for them. The coming of her sister's family was so very near at hand. even for poor Isabella's sake. She hardly wished to have more leisure for them. however. Elton must now be left to himself. and Mr. or seen at all by Mr. every long vacation since their marriage had been divided between Hartfield and Donwell Abbey. all reaching Hartfield in safety. and then in reality. John Knightley. that in spite of maternal solicitude for the immediate enjoyment of her little ones. it became henceforth her prime object of interest. elegant little woman. and a competent number of nursery-maids. all the eating and drinking. without the smallest delay. nor have endured much longer even for this. It was no longer in Emma's power to superintend his happiness or quicken his measures.Volume One Chapter Eleven Mr. their five children. and Mrs. Mr. and during the ten days of their stay at Hartfield it was not to be expected--she did not herself expect-that any thing beyond occasional. and it was therefore many months since they had been seen in a regular way by their Surry connexions. but the ways of Hartfield and the feelings of her father were so respected by Mrs. and sleeping and playing. . encouraged. and a disposition remarkably amiable and affectionate. Mrs. but his alarms were needless. from having been longer than usual absent from Surry. and who consequently was now most nervously and apprehensively happy in forestalling this too short visit. and Mrs. John Knightley was a pretty. but all the holidays of this autumn had been given to sea-bathing for the children. They might advance rapidly if they would. the less they will do for themselves.

it was hardly possible that any natural defects in it should not be increased. John Knightley was a tall. in a general benevolence of temper. Perry. and generally a strong sense of what was due to him. especially as there was all the pain of apprehension frequently to be endured. gentleman-like. rising in his profession. Mr. Perhaps she might have passed over more had his manners been flattering to Isabella's sister. They were alike too. The beginning. but with reserved manners which prevented his being generally pleasing. There he had not always the patience that could have been wished. but for these higher ties. or say a severe thing. She was not a woman of strong understanding or any quickness. domestic. over-careful of that of her children. and with this resemblance of her father. and very clever man. Nothing wrong in him escaped her. but they were only those of a calmly kind brother and friend. John Knightley had really a great regard for his father-in-law. though the offence came not. not so often unreasonably cross as to deserve such a reproach. He had all the clearness and quickness of mind which she wanted. Wingfield in town as her father could be of Mr. a warmer love might have seemed impossible. and was as fond of her own Mr. The extreme sweetness of her temper must hurt his. of every visit displayed none but the properest feelings. called his daughter's attention to the sad change at Hartfield since she had been there last. with a melancholy shake of the head and a sigh. and so tenderly attached to her father and sister that. however. and this being of necessity so short might be hoped to pass away in unsullied cordiality. but hardly any degree of personal compliment could have made her regardless of that greatest fault of all in her eyes which he sometimes fell into. a devoted wife. for Mr. and he could sometimes act an ungracious. and a strong habit of regard for every old acquaintance.wrapt up in her family. the want of respectful forbearance towards her father. had many fears and many nerves. indeed. . and respectable in his private character. and. but his temper was not his great perfection. He was not a great favourite with his fair sister-in-law. He was not an ill-tempered man. Mr. She was quick in feeling the little injuries to Isabella. Woodhouse's peculiarities and fidgetiness were sometimes provoking him to a rational remonstrance or sharp retort equally ill-bestowed. she inherited also much of his constitution. It did not often happen. which Isabella never felt herself. was delicate in her own health. and capable of being sometimes out of humour. but it was too often for Emma's charity. Woodhouse. with such a worshipping wife. a doating mother. She could never see a fault in any of them. They had not been long seated and composed when Mr. without praise and without blindness.

my love. I hope you will be satisfied. Every body must be aware that Miss Taylor must be missed." "Just as it should be. poor Mrs.--But I hope she is pretty well. Papa is only speaking his own regret. Mr. Weston better in my life-never looking so well. Woodhouse hesitated. sir. "how you must miss her! And dear Emma. and his being a disengaged and social man makes it all easy. "poor Miss Taylor--It is a grievous business. that I had no idea of the change being so very material to Hartfield as you apprehended. tolerably often?" asked Isabella in the plaintive tone which just suited her father. Weston or Mrs." was the handsome reply. Weston." "Pretty well." . They are very." "Oh! papa. have we seen either Mr. my dear." said Mr." Mr. sir.--I could not imagine how you could possibly do without her. but every body ought also to be assured that Mr. most frequently here. Isabella. you will be giving Isabella a false idea of us all. Woodhouse--"yes. John Knightley. I never saw Mrs. my dear.--It is a sad change indeed. Either in the morning or evening of every day. Weston is really as kind as herself. too!--What a dreadful loss to you both!-I have been so grieved for you. we have missed seeing them but one entire day since they married." "Why. if you speak in that melancholy way. and generally both. Weston do really prevent our missing her by any means to the extent we ourselves anticipated--which is the exact truth." said Mr. Her wish of shewing you attention could not be doubted. excepting one. certainly--I cannot deny that Mrs. sir. Weston."Ah. John Knightley here asked Emma quietly whether there were any doubts of the air of Randalls.--"Not near so often." said he. "And do you see her. Weston. "Oh! no--none in the least." cried she with ready sympathy." "Oh yes. to be sure. I have been always telling you. my dear--I hope--pretty well. Mr. and now you have Emma's account. does come and see us pretty often-but then--she is always obliged to go away again.--I do not know but that the place agrees with her tolerably. and Mrs. Papa." "Very much to the honour of both. "and just as I hoped it was from your letters. as I could wish. very kind in their visits. either at Randalls or here--and as you may suppose.

You and I. I do not know his equal for temper. She shewed it to me." "I think. I believe he is one of the very best-tempered men that ever existed.-You quite forget poor Mr." cried his wife. he is three-and-twenty. and as to slighting Mr. Weston if she did not. handsome letter it was. I have been convinced there could not be a more feeling heart nor a better man in existence. or can be." said John Knightley pleasantly. I shall never forget his flying Henry's kite for him that very windy day last Easter--and ever since his particular kindness last September twelvemonth in writing that note." "Me. I thought it very well done of him indeed. the claims of the man may very likely strike us with equal force. will venture to take the part of the poor husband.-"Are you talking about me?--I am sure nobody ought to be. to congratulate her. on purpose to assure me that there was no scarlet fever at Cobham. and you not being a wife. my love. However." replied Emma. Weston. indeed. and his uncle. that excellent Mr. one cannot tell. perhaps--" "My dear papa. at twelve o'clock at night." "But you should tell them of the letter. Weston has some little claim. You forget how time passes." "Where is the young man?" said John Knightley." said her father. "that Mr. pretty letter. but it ended in nothing. Westons aside as much as she can. it was an exceeding good. a greater advocate for matrimony than I am. I should never have thought of Miss Taylor but as the most fortunate woman in the world. being a husband. "He wrote a letter to poor Mrs. I could not have thought it-and he was but two years old when he lost his poor mother! Well. Weston. and Mrs. it must be Miss Taylor. papa. Excepting yourself and your brother. I think there is nothing he does not deserve. I."It would be very hard upon Mr. Emma. and I have not heard him mentioned lately.--If any body can deserve him. hearing and understanding only in part. Weston . Weston. Whether it was his own idea you know. "Has he been here on this occasion--or has he not?" "He has not been here yet." "Three-and-twenty!--is he indeed?--Well. and if it had not been for the misery of her leaving Hartfield. and gave Mr. time does fly indeed!--and my memory is very bad. "There was a strong expectation of his coming soon after the marriage. As for Isabella. she has been married long enough to see the convenience of putting all the Mr. He is but young. and a very proper. Weston. my dear.

"I have no doubt of his being a most amiable young man. Woodhouse. John Knightley. and besides the consideration of what was due to each brother. and had half a mind to take it up. She certainly had not been in the wrong. depending. Weston. that is. and he would never own that he had. Weston Churchill. "But you need not imagine Mr. C. Concession must be out of the question." observed Mr. Knightley was to dine with them--rather against the inclination of Mr. But how sad it is that he should not live at home with his father! There is something so shocking in a child's being taken away from his parents and natural home! I never could comprehend how Mr. whence resulted her brother's disposition to look down on the common rate of social intercourse. Mr. Weston to have felt what you would feel in giving up Henry or John. Weston is rather an easy. he takes things as he finds them. Knightley and herself. but it was time to appear to forget that they had ever quarrelled. Weston could part with him. she had particular pleasure. and makes enjoyment of them somehow or other.' but I forget how it went on. who did not like that any one should share with him in Isabella's first day. I suspect. or any thing that home affords. and there was something honourable and valuable in the strong domestic habits. I fancy.a great deal of pleasure. and it was signed `F. To give up one's child! I really never could think well of any body who proposed such a thing to any body else. much more upon what is called society for his comforts. John Knightley coolly. Making-up indeed would not do. cheerful-tempered man.--It had a high claim to forbearance." "How very pleasing and proper of him!" cried the good-hearted Mrs. than a man of strong feelings. I remember it was written from Weymouth.'-I remember that perfectly. but she struggled. and those to whom it was important. and dated Sept. and let it pass. in procuring him the proper invitation. Volume One Chapter Twelve Mr. She thought it was time to make up. `My dear Madam. upon the power of eating and drinking. She hoped they might now become friends again." Emma could not like what bordered on a reflection on Mr. than upon family affection. and playing whist with his neighbours five times a week. 28th--and began. and she hoped it might rather ." "Nobody ever did think well of the Churchills. She would keep the peace if possible. Emma's sense of right however had decided it. from the circumstance of the late disagreement between Mr. the all-sufficiency of home to himself.

" said he. smiling--"and reason good. our opinions are sometimes very different." "A material difference then. As to men and women. Come." "But still. who was now making her first visit to Hartfield. Mr. and I have done. a nice little girl about eight months old." she cried--"very true. grow up a better woman than your aunt. and very happy to be danced about in her aunt's arms. "What a comfort it is. and as little under the power of fancy and whim in your dealings with them. It did assist. and the conviction giving her at first great satisfaction. I observe we never disagree." "I have still the advantage of you by sixteen years' experience. Be infinitely cleverer and not half so conceited. that we think alike about our nephews and nieces." "That's true. I was sixteen years old when you were born. and that if she were not wrong before. we might always think alike. Little Emma." she replied--"and no doubt you were much my superior in judgment at that period of our lives. if we think differently." "If you were as much guided by nature in your estimate of men and women. As far as good intentions went. and then a little sauciness. and to take the child out of her arms with all the unceremoniousness of perfect amity. Emma felt they were friends again. that when he came into the room she had one of the children with her--the youngest. she is now. Tell your aunt. we were both right. Now. as he was admiring the baby.assist the restoration of friendship. but with regard to these children. not near enough to give me a chance of being right. and by not being a pretty young woman and a spoiled child. but does not the lapse of one-and-twenty years bring our understandings a good deal nearer?" "Yes--a good deal nearer. Knightley. for though he began with grave looks and short questions. little Emma. she could not help saying. he was soon led on to talk of them all in the usual way. . as you are where these children are concerned." "To be sure--our discordancies must always arise from my being in the wrong. a word or two more. my dear Emma. that she ought to set you a better example than to be renewing old grievances. let us be friends." "Yes. and say no more about it.

full answer. but principally of those of the elder. my dear--and I recommend a little gruel to you . if requisite. for a few moments. and if his willing brother ever left him any thing to inquire about. Woodhouse declined cards entirely for the sake of comfortable talk with his dear Isabella." was his short. and to give all such local information as could not fail of being interesting to a brother whose home it had equally been the longest part of his life. fondly taking her hand. and who was always the greater talker. The evening was quiet and conversable. at least. and "How d'ye do. and the destination of every acre for wheat. or. his inquiries even approached a tone of eagerness. While they were thus comfortably occupied. or spring corn. burying under a calmness that seemed all but indifference. As a magistrate. how are you?" succeeded in the true English style. the change of a fence. Woodhouse was enjoying a full flow of happy regrets and fearful affection with his daughter. Mr. Knightleys. and whose attachments were strong. the real attachment which would have led either of them." "A man cannot be more so. whose temper was by much the most communicative. the felling of a tree. and interrupting. and the little party made two natural divisions.--Come. her busy labours for some one of her five children--"How long it is." This had just taken place and with great cordiality. I only want to know that Mr. The brothers talked of their own concerns and pursuits. as his cooler manners rendered possible. The plan of a drain. was entered into with as much equality of interest by John. he had generally some point of law to consult John about.and I must say that no effects on my side of the argument have yet proved wrong. "My poor dear Isabella. as keeping in hand the home-farm at Donwell. how terribly long since you were here! And how tired you must be after your journey! You must go to bed early. "Ah!--Indeed I am very sorry. when John Knightley made his appearance. on one side he and his daughter. on the other the two Mr. he had to tell what every field was to bear next year. their subjects totally distinct. shake hands with me. as Mr. or very rarely mixing--and Emma only occasionally joining in one or the other. Martin is not very. turnips. to do every thing for the good of the other. very bitterly disappointed." said he. and as a farmer. some curious anecdote to give. George?" and "John.

and he never forgets you." "Oh! good Mr.--and two basins only were ordered. but Perry had many doubts about the sea doing her any good. your spending the autumn at South End instead of coming here. sir?" "Why. knowing as she did." . And." Emma could not suppose any such thing. Perry yet. and he has not time to take care of himself--he tells me he has not time to take care of himself--which is very sad--but he is always wanted all round the country. It makes me envious and miserable. Poor Perry is bilious. though perhaps I never told you so before. He recommended it for all the children. I never had much opinion of the sea air. I have not heard you make one inquiry about Mr. I have been long perfectly convinced.-both sea air and bathing. Perry--how is he. that the sea is very rarely of use to any body. I am sure it almost killed me once. my dear. Wingfield most strenuously recommended it. you had better let him look at little Bella's throat. how are they? do the children grow? I have a great regard for Mr." "Come. I suppose there is not a man in such practice anywhere. feeling this to be an unsafe subject. After a little more discourse in praise of gruel. "It was an awkward business. sir--or we should not have gone. whenever he comes. suppose we all have a little gruel. that both the Mr. My dear Isabella. But then there is not so clever a man any where. for I have a question or two to ask him about myself of some consequence. and as to myself.before you go. but not quite well. My dear Emma. my dear.--You and I will have a nice basin of gruel together. come. I hope he will be calling soon." "I hope he will be here to-morrow." cried Emma.-I who have never seen it! South End is prohibited. "I must beg you not to talk of the sea. if you please. Knightleys were as unpersuadable on that article as herself. Perry and the children." "Mr. with some wondering at its not being taken every evening by every body. but particularly for the weakness in little Bella's throat." "Ah! my dear. with an air of grave reflection. He will be so pleased to see my little ones. Perry. pretty well. he proceeded to say." "And Mrs.

my dear." "How sorry I am! But colds were never so prevalent as they have been this autumn. her throat is so much better that I have hardly any uneasiness about it. to live in any other part of the town. sir?" "Why. I do not know that Mr. Perry does not call it altogether a sickly season. but not to the degree you mention. I hope they are quite well. and Miss Bates. the truth is. I own. Either bathing has been of the greatest service to her."Oh! my dear sir. my dear sir. It is a dreadful thing to have you forced to live there! so far off!-and the air so bad!" "No." "Oh! the good Bateses--I am quite ashamed of myself--but you mention them in most of your letters. I would have spoken to-"You seem to me to have forgotten Mrs." "It is not very likely. which we have been applying at times ever since August.-there is hardly any other that I could be satisfied to have my children in: but we are so remarkably airy!--Mr.-And that excellent Miss Bates!--such thorough worthy people!-How are they. but not so heavy as he has very often known them in November. Good old Mrs. upon the whole. Mr. Bates--I will call upon her to-morrow. that in London it is always a sickly season. Our part of London is very superior to most others!--You must not confound us with London in general. indeed--we are not at all in a bad air. that bathing should have been of use to her--and if I had known you were wanting an embrocation. or else it is to be attributed to an excellent embrocation of Mr. nobody can be. But poor Mrs. Wingfield's. We are so very airy! I should be unwilling." said Emma." "No. my dear. "I have not heard one inquiry after them. my dear.--They are always so pleased to see my children. Wingfield thinks ." "That has been a good deal the case. Wingfield told me that he has never known them more general or heavy--except when it has been quite an influenza. Wingfield considers it very sickly except-"Ah! my poor dear child. Perry says that colds have been very general. pretty well. The neighbourhood of Brunswick Square is very different from almost all the rest. Nobody is healthy in London. and take my children. Bates had a bad cold about a month ago.

but I assure you. John Knightley very far from looking well. hearing his own name. I cannot compliment you. that my father does not think you looking well--but I hope it is only from being a little fatigued. however." "My dear Isabella. John Knightley. I think Mr. that you do not think Mr. Knightley looking ill. "about your friend Mr. "Middling. that I think you are any of you looking well at present. for I assure you Mr. it was only because they were a little more tired than usual." "What is the matter. sir?--Did you speak to me?" cried Mr. "I am sorry to find. Be satisfied with doctoring and coddling yourself and the children. I trust.the vicinity of Brunswick Square decidedly the most favourable as to air. as you know. I hope you will think better of their looks to-morrow. though no great favourite with her in general. Wingfield told me. . at least. excepting those little nervous head-aches and palpitations which I am never entirely free from anywhere. I could have wished. my love. You make the best of it-but after you have been a week at Hartfield. Graham's intending to have a bailiff from Scotland. she had nothing worse to hear than Isabella's kind inquiry after Jane Fairfax. that he did not believe he had ever sent us off altogether." "I am sorry to hear you say so. that you had seen Mr. Wingfield before you left home. when forced to give her attention again to her father and sister." cried Emma."--exclaimed he hastily--"pray do not concern yourself about my looks." "I did not thoroughly understand what you were telling your brother. it is not like Hartfield. in such good case. and if the children were rather pale before they went to bed. I am quite well myself. from their journey and the happiness of coming." turning her eyes with affectionate anxiety towards her husband. Now I cannot say. you are all of you different creatures. and Jane Fairfax. sir. my dear. you do not look like the same. to look after his new estate. she was at that moment very happy to assist in praising. and let me look as I chuse." "Ah! my dear. What will it answer? Will not the old prejudice be too strong?" And she talked in this way so long and successfully that.

however. "Ah! there is no end of the sad consequences of your going to South End. shaking his head and fixing his eyes on her with tender concern. however. Campbell will not be able to part with her at all. Here was a dangerous opening. but now their daughter is married. but added. Emma could not have a better companion than Harriet."That sweet. Often as she had wished for and ordered it. a young woman hired for the time. It does not bear talking of. was in her own cook at South End. and that a silent rumination might suffice to restore him to the relish of his own smooth gruel.--The ejaculation in Emma's ear expressed." "I am most happy to hear it--but only Jane Fairfax one knows to be so very accomplished and superior!--and exactly Emma's age. Woodhouse agreed to it all." Mr. John Knightley. You will like Harriet.-"It is so long since I have seen her. but not too thin. the most recent." . and pretty severe Philippics upon the many houses where it was never met with tolerable. but the evening did not close without a little return of agitation. instead of coming here. sir?--I assure you. She would be such a delightful companion for Emma. and others succeeded of similar moment." This topic was discussed very happily. she had never been able to get any thing tolerable. amiable Jane Fairfax!" said Mrs. unfortunately. and therefore most prominent. I suppose Colonel and Mrs. it did the children a great deal of good.--but. he began with. "Ah!" said Mr. except now and then for a moment accidentally in town! What happiness it must be to her good old grandmother and excellent aunt." And for a little while she hoped he would not talk of it. when she comes to visit them! I always regret excessively on dear Emma's account that she cannot be more at Highbury." "But why should you be sorry. Woodhouse. thin. The gruel came and supplied a great deal to be said--much praise and many comments-undoubting decision of its wholesomeness for every constitution. "I shall always be very sorry that you went to the sea this autumn. After an interval of some minutes. who never had been able to understand what she meant by a basin of nice smooth gruel. among the failures which the daughter had to instance. "Our little friend Harriet Smith. and passed away with similar harmony. is just such another pretty kind of young person.

" ." "You should have gone to Cromer. and if one is to travel.--An hundred miles. if you went anywhere. Perry can tell me how to convey a wife and five children a distance of an hundred and thirty miles with no greater expense or inconvenience than a distance of forty. A fine open sea.--Better not move at all. instead of forty.--only consider how great it would have been. "would do as well to keep his opinion till it is asked for. Why does he make it any business of his. with only sarcastic dryness." "But." said he.--We all had our health perfectly well there. Perry. And. and he holds it to be the best of all the sea-bathing places. nothing else should be considered." Emma's attempts to stop her father had been vain. "Mr. and Mr. if you must go to the sea. South End is an unhealthy place. for he thoroughly understands the nature of the air. sir. It seemed to him a very ill-judged measure. and his own brother and family have been there repeatedly. my dear sir. as Perry says." "Ah! my dear. but indeed it is quite a mistake.-I want his directions no more than his drugs. added. and I am sure he may be depended on. You should have consulted Perry.-Perry was a week at Cromer once. it had better not have been to South End. you might have had lodgings there quite away from the sea--a quarter of a mile off--very comfortable. better stay in London altogether than travel forty miles to get into a worse air. Wingfield says it is entirely a mistake to suppose the place unhealthy." "I know there is such an idea with many people. he says. moreover. my dear. and when he had reached such a point as this. never found the least inconvenience from the mud. and very pure air. there is not much to chuse between forty miles and an hundred."And. to wonder at what I do?-at my taking my family to one part of the coast or another?--I may be allowed. the difference of the journey. in a voice of very strong displeasure. "If Mr. I hope. perhaps. This is just what Perry said. Perry. Perry was surprized to hear you had fixed upon South End. the use of my judgment as well as Mr. by what I understand. I should be as willing to prefer Cromer to South End as he could himself. where health is at stake." He paused-and growing cooler in a moment. she could not wonder at her brother-in-law's breaking out.

and then we will look them over. in this short visit to Hartfield. of turning it more to the right that it may not cut through the home meadows. Harriet. Mr. with most ready interposition-"very true. but one complete dinner engagement. going about every morning among her old acquaintance with her five children. . and you shall give me your opinion. it hardly amounted to a doubt." cried Mr. if it were to be the means of inconvenience to the Highbury people. Woodhouse's habits and inclination being consulted in every thing. prevented any renewal of it. their own especial set. Knightley.--But John. in fact. and Mr. She had nothing to wish otherwise. true. Weston would take no denial. . but if you call to mind exactly the present line of the path. in being much too short. How they were all to be conveyed. however. they must all dine at Randalls one day. That's a consideration indeed. but that the days did not pass so swiftly. . he was not able to make more than a simple question on that head. Knightley. there was no avoiding. to whom he had. Mr. John Knightley. In general their evenings were less engaged with friends than their mornings. Mr."True. and talking over what she had done every evening with her father and sister. and out of the house too. I should not attempt it. It was a delightful visit.-but the soothing attentions of his daughters gradually removed the present evil. as to what I was telling you of my idea of moving the path to Langham. Woodhouse was rather agitated by such harsh reflections on his friend Perry. I cannot conceive any difficulty. Woodhouse was persuaded to think it a possible thing in preference to a division of the party. .--even Mr. will be to turn to our maps." Mr. were the only persons invited to meet them. but as his son and daughter's carriage and horses were actually at Hartfield. Volume One Chapter Thirteen There could hardly be a happier creature in the world than Mrs.--perfect. and the immediate alertness of one brother. though at Christmas. and better recollections of the other. though unconsciously. I shall see you at the Abbey to-morrow morning I hope. as well as the numbers few. been attributing many of his own feelings and expressions.--the hours were to be early. nor did it occupy Emma long to convince him that they might in one of the carriages find room for Harriet also. he would have made a difficulty if he could. Elton. The only way of proving it.

evidently coming towards it. Elton himself. on the 24th of December) had been spent by Harriet at Hartfield. and she had gone home so much indisposed with a cold. whose healthy. Mr. She had not advanced many yards from Mrs. with a great deal of heat about her. . Woodhouse should dine out. Has Perry seen her? Indeed you should take care of yourself as well as of your friend.The evening before this great event (for it was a very great event that Mr.-"a throat very much inflamed. to attend her in Mrs. I hope not of a putrid infectious sort. Goddard's unavoidable absences. low pulse. and found her doom already signed with regard to Randalls. Elton looked all alarm on the occasion. Emma called on her the next day. which she would rather feed and assist than not. and she was sorry to find from Mrs. &c. with his two eldest boys. and as they walked on slowly together in conversation about the invalid-of whom he. had been going to inquire. when she was met by Mr. and raise her spirits by representing how much Mr. that. Perry was talked of. Goddard that Harriet was liable to very bad sore-throats. John Knightley returning from the daily visit to Donwell. They joined company and proceeded together. but for her own earnest wish of being nursed by Mrs. as he exclaimed. in the sweet dependence of his having a most comfortless visit. Emma was just describing the nature of her friend's complaint. Goddard was full of care and affection. Goddard. that he might carry some report of her to Hartfield-they were overtaken by Mr. and left her at last tolerably comfortable. but as there must still remain a degree of uneasiness which she could not wish to reason away. and had often alarmed her with them. tranquillised this excess of apprehension by assurances of Mrs. She was very feverish and had a bad sore throat: Mrs. she added soon afterwards--as if quite another subject. and of their all missing her very much. "A sore-throat!--I hope not infectious. though she could not speak of her loss without many tears. Let me entreat you to run no risks." Mr. glowing faces shewed all the benefit of a country run. a quick. Emma sat with her as long as she could. Elton's would be depressed when he knew her state. Why does not Perry see her?" Emma. and Harriet herself was too ill and low to resist the authority which excluded her from this delightful engagement. Goddard's experience and care. on the rumour of considerable illness. who was not really at all frightened herself. Goddard's door. Emma could not have allowed her to leave the house. and seemed to ensure a quick despatch of the roast mutton and rice pudding they were hastening home for.

pleasing young man undoubtedly. I do not like to interfere. never had his smile been stronger. Elton looked as if he did not very well know what answer to make. and when you consider what demand of voice and what fatigues to-morrow will bring. he cannot refuse an invitation. certainly very cold. when she found her brother was civilly offering a seat in his carriage. Elton actually accepting the offer with much prompt satisfaction.-but Emma. that if it were to any other place or with any other party. "Well." said she to herself. Mr. What a strange thing love is! he can see ready wit in Harriet." and walked on. he had not really the least inclination to give up the visit. which was exactly the case."It is so cold. and does not seem to feel the cold himself. he must dine out wherever he is asked. as I know it would be so great a disappointment to Mr. and secured him the power of sending to inquire after Harriet every hour of the evening. rejoicing in having extricated him from Randalls. nor his eyes more exulting than when he next looked at her. and leave Harriet ill behind!--Most strange indeed!--But there is. almost their duties. and very much in love with Harriet. and Mrs. but still. Elton was to go. It was a done thing. to chuse to go into company. and never had his broad handsome face expressed more pleasure than at this moment. "You do quite right. amiable. if the weather were Mr. I think it would be no more than common prudence to stay at home and take care of yourself to-night. I should certainly excuse myself. Mr. in your case. but as he has made up his mind. their employments.--"we will make your apologies to Mr." . their dignities. such an inclination-such a passion for dining out--a dinner engagement is so high in the class of their pleasures. was very well satisfied with his muttering acknowledgment of its being "very cold. a most valuable. for though very much gratified by the kind care of such a fair lady. Elton's only objection. or see him with clear vision. especially single men. I should really try not to go out to-day--and dissuade my father from venturing. in many men." said she. You appear to me a little hoarse already. that any thing gives way to it--and this must be the case with Mr. Elton." But hardly had she so spoken. upon my word. "this is most strange!--After I had got him off so well. too eager and busy in her own previous conceptions and views to hear him impartially. Elton. But. I believe." Mr. so very cold--and looks and feels so very much like snow. and not liking to resist any advice of her's. Weston. and Mrs. and Mr. Weston. but will not dine alone for her.

Mr." and she walked on." "Yes. but you will do well to consider whether it is so or not. of the mistakes which people of high pretensions to judgment are for ever falling into. with some slyness. Goddard's for news of her fair friend. You had better look about you. in the tone of his voice while assuring her that he should call at Mrs. Elton's manners are not perfect." "Me!" she replied with a smile of astonishment. I think your manners to him encouraging. and she could not but do him the justice of feeling that there was a great deal of sentiment in his manner of naming Harriet at parting. one ought to overlook. he will have the advantage over negligent superiority. There is such perfect good-temper and good-will in Mr. Elton. Elton and I are very good friends." "Mr. and nothing more. Where a man does his best with only moderate powers. I speak as a friend. Elton in love with me!--What an idea!" "I do not say it is so. Emma. and to regulate your behaviour accordingly. "are you imagining me to be Mr. but I assure you you are quite mistaken.Soon afterwards Mr. you may as well take it into consideration now. and what you mean to do. and he sighed and smiled himself off in a way that left the balance of approbation much in his favour. "he seems to have a great deal of good-will towards you. Elton quitted them. It is downright labour to him where ladies are concerned. the last thing before he prepared for the happiness of meeting her again. and if it never occurred to you before. amusing herself in the consideration of the blunders which often arise from a partial knowledge of circumstances. every feature works. but when he has ladies to please. Elton's object?" "Such an imagination has crossed me. After a few minutes of entire silence between them. John Knightley presently. . and one does overlook a great deal. I own. Emma. Elton as one cannot but value. and ascertain what you do." "Mr. "but where there is a wish to please. when he hoped to be able to give a better report." said Mr. With men he can be rational and unaffected." replied Emma." "I thank you. John Knightley began with-"I never in my life saw a man more intent on being agreeable than Mr.

too full of the wonder of his own going. Emma soon saw that her companion was not in the happiest humour.and not very well pleased with her brother for imagining her blind and ignorant. and by the time the second carriage was in motion. he seemed to have no idea of shrinking from it. were evils. and keep all under shelter that he can. he anticipated nothing in the visit that could be at all worth the purchase. which tells man. by any call of duty or business. probably with rather thinner clothing than usual. Mr." Emma did not find herself equal to give the pleased assent. Going in dismal weather. shivering creatures into colder rooms and worse company than they might have had at home. "A man. "must have a very good opinion of himself when he asks people to leave their own fireside. Woodhouse had so completely made up his mind to the visit." . were disagreeables at least. and in want of counsel. which no doubt he was in the habit of receiving. The preparing and the going abroad in such weather.--four horses and four servants taken out for nothing but to convey five idle. and too well wrapt up to feel it. to emulate the "Very true. I could not do such a thing. in every thing given to his view or his feelings. and set forward at last most punctually with his eldest daughter in his own carriage. with the sacrifice of his children after dinner. setting forward voluntarily. and may not be said and heard again to-morrow. a few flakes of snow were finding their way down. and encounter such a day as this. The cold. in defiance of the voice of nature. for the sake of coming to see him. my love. He must think himself a most agreeable fellow. was severe." said he. and the sky had the appearance of being so overcharged as to want only a milder air to produce a very white world in a very short time.--and here are we. which Mr. that in spite of the increasing coldness. with nothing to say or to hear that was not said and heard yesterday. however. and the whole of their drive to the vicarage was spent by him in expressing his discontent. with less apparent consciousness of the weather than either of the others. to stay at home himself. He said no more.-here are we setting forward to spend five dull hours in another man's house. to return probably in worse. John Knightley did not by any means like. and the pleasure it was to afford at Randalls to see that it was cold. what a hardship we should deem it. It is the greatest absurdity--Actually snowing at this moment!-The folly of not allowing people to be comfortable at home--and the folly of people's not staying comfortably at home when they can! If we were obliged to go out such an evening as this. without excuse.

Mr." "My report from Mrs. he was so very cheerful in his civilities indeed. spruce." His face lengthened immediately. without opening her lips. and in a voice of the greatest alacrity and enjoyment. and wrapped herself up. that she began to think he must have received a different account of Harriet from what had reached her. by no means better. but she had resolution enough to refrain from making any answer at all. She had sent while dressing. . Goddard's door. I was told that Miss Smith was not better.which must have been usually administered by his travelling companion. the sigh which accompanied it was really estimable. and his voice was the voice of sentiment as he answered. and arranged the glasses. the carriage turned. But it is impossible not to feel uneasiness. Elton. She could not be complying. "Oh! no--I am grieved to find--I was on the point of telling you that when I called at Mrs. was with them instantly. She allowed him to talk. and smiling. her heroism reached only to silence. the step was let down. "was not so pleasant as I had hoped--`Not better' was my answer. and the answer had been. Mr." "Yes--I imagined--that is--I did not--" "He has been used to her in these complaints. it is a most severe cold indeed. indeed. and Mr." This was very proper." Emma smiled and answered--"My visit was of use to the nervous part of her complaint. she dreaded being quarrelsome. Goddard's. rather worse. but it should have lasted longer. Perry has been with her. and I hope to-morrow morning will bring us both a more comfortable report. I hope." said she presently. Elton was all obligation and cheerfulness.--She will be missed every moment. Emma thought with pleasure of some change of subject. Such a sad loss to our party to-day!" "Dreadful!--Exactly so. Emma was rather in dismay when only half a minute afterwards he began to speak of other things. which I did the very last thing before I returned to dress. black. "Much the same-not better. Very much grieved and concerned-I had flattered myself that she must be better after such a cordial as I knew had been given her in the morning. as you probably heard. They arrived. but not even I can charm away a sore throat.

and so fond of society. "We are sure of excellent fires. At Christmas every body invites their friends about them." observed Mr. Charming people. I think you will agree with me. that not a breath of air can find its way unpermitted. but she was too much astonished now at Mr. "Quite seasonable."What an excellent device." "Yes." continued he. Woodhouse would hardly have ventured had there been much snow on the ground. "the use of a sheepskin for carriages. and people think little of even the worst weather. and Mrs. Elton's spirits for other feelings. Weston indeed is much beyond praise. One is so fenced and guarded from the weather. "and I think we shall have a good deal of it. may not quite enter into our feelings. from being used to the large parties of London. Weston's dining-room does not accommodate more than ten comfortably. and could not get away till that very day se'nnight.-it will be a small party." Mr.--impossible to feel cold with such precautions." At another time Emma might have been amused." said he." . Mr. Nothing could be pleasanter. (turning with a soft air to Emma. Mr. and he is exactly what one values. How very comfortable they make it. This is quite the season indeed for friendly meetings. Knightley perhaps. so hospitable. though Mr. Elton. I would rather. which it might very possibly have done. Weston. but said only. under such circumstances. and for my part. and prevent this day's party." said John Knightley. for Mr. "I cannot wish to be snowed up a week at Randalls." "Christmas weather.-Mrs. The contrivances of modern days indeed have rendered a gentleman's carriage perfectly complete. Weather becomes absolutely of no consequence. fall short by two than exceed by two. Harriet seemed quite forgotten in the expectation of a pleasant party. It is a very cold afternoon--but in this carriage we know nothing of the matter. coolly. I was snowed up at a friend's house once for a week. they are perhaps the most agreeable of any. and extremely fortunate we may think ourselves that it did not begin yesterday. I went for only one night. but now it is of no consequence.) I think I shall certainly have your approbation. "and every thing in the greatest comfort. John Knightley looked as if he did not comprehend the pleasure. but where small parties are select.--Ha! snows a little I see.

but the very sight of Mrs. "will be to find myself safe at Hartfield again. Mr. Well. and shew herself just as happy as she was. and of Emma's being to follow. her voice was grateful to Emma. and half an hour's uninterrupted communication of all those little matters on which the daily happiness of private life depends." Volume One Chapter Fourteen Some change of countenance was necessary for each gentleman as they walked into Mrs. This was a pleasure which perhaps the whole day's visit might not afford. her smile. and Mrs. which certainly did not belong to the present half-hour. and pleasures of her father and herself. Elton's oddities. John Knightley disperse his ill-humour. and had indeed just got to the end of his satisfaction that James should come and see his daughter. besides all the history of his own and Isabella's coming. to whom she related with such conviction of being listened to and understood. Weston was a great favourite. as to his wife. was one of the first gratifications of each.) I had no idea that the law had been so great a slavery.--Emma only might be as nature prompted."I know nothing of the large parties of London. and there was not a creature in the world to whom she spoke with such unreserve. Weston had not a lively concern. and Mr. to fit them for the place. the little affairs. . when the others appeared. in which Mrs. and she determined to think as little as possible of Mr." replied John Knightley. Woodhouse had been safely seated long enough to give the history of it. who had been almost wholly engrossed by her attentions to him. The misfortune of Harriet's cold had been pretty well gone through before her arrival. as they passed through the sweep-gate. not any one." "Indeed! (in a tone of wonder and pity. John Knightley more. Weston. sir--I never dine with any body. the time must come when you will be paid for all this. was able to turn away and welcome her dear Emma. or of any thing else unpleasant. Mr. of being always interesting and always intelligible. and enjoy all that was enjoyable to the utmost. To her it was real enjoyment to be with the Westons. arrangements. sir." "My first enjoyment. perplexities. Mr. Weston's drawing-room. She could tell nothing of Hartfield. when you will have little labour and great enjoyment. Elton must compose his joyous looks. Weston. Elton must smile less. and Mr.--Mr. her touch.

and a sort of pleasure in the idea of their being coupled in their friends' imaginations. she was even positively civil. but before she could quiet Mr. which always interested her. when they had all taken their places. He seemed by this connexion between the families. and though not meaning to be induced by him. quite to belong to her. she had a great curiosity to see him. Instead of forgetting him. Weston did think of it. would be so interested about her father. but she had the comfort of appearing very polite. Now. from her mind. She had frequently thought--especially since his father's marriage with Miss Taylor--that if she were to marry. or by any body else. from a few other half-syllables very much suspected that he was announcing an early visit from his son. which she particularly wished to listen to. Elton for a while made her rather sorry to find. She could not but suppose it to be a match that every body who knew them must think of. the subject was so completely past that any reviving question from her would have been awkward. That Mr. it so happened that in spite of Emma's resolution of never marrying. She heard enough to know that Mr. and for Harriet's. especially as something was going on amongst the others. in the most overpowering period of Mr. while feeling very cross--and of thinking that the rest of the visit could not . For her own sake she could not be rude. and solicitously addressing her upon every occasion. there was something in the name.Emma's project of forgetting Mr." and "Frank. character and condition. Elton's civilities were dreadfully ill-timed. in the idea of Mr. and. that he was close to her. Elton's nonsense. Mr. in the hope that all would yet turn out right. Weston was giving some information about his son. his behaviour was such that she could not avoid the internal suggestion of "Can it really be as my brother imagined? can it be possible for this man to be beginning to transfer his affections from Harriet to me?--Absurd and insufferable!"-Yet he would be so anxious for her being perfectly warm. and so delighted with Mrs. Frank Churchill. and Mrs. she was very strongly persuaded. to give up a situation which she believed more replete with good than any she could change it for. With such sensations. a decided intention of finding him pleasant. but it was an effort." and "my son. he was the very person to suit her in age." repeated several times over. while he not only sat at her elbow. but was continually obtruding his happy countenance on her notice. and made it some effort with her to preserve her good manners. Elton. of being liked by him to a certain degree. Weston. and at last would begin admiring her drawings with so much zeal and so little knowledge as seemed terribly like a would-be lover. she heard the words "my son. The difficulty was great of driving his strange insensibility towards Harriet.

" Emma spoke with a very proper degree of pleasure. but that she thinks there will be another put-off. that a party of friends are invited to pay a visit at Enscombe in January. as I am of being here myself: but your good friend there (nodding towards the upper end of the table) has so few vagaries herself. Frank Churchill and Miss Smith making their party quite complete. But now I have no doubt of seeing him here about the second week in January. Weston. they always are put off when it comes to the point. he made use of the very first interval in the cares of hospitality. Weston. and who (between ourselves) are sometimes to be pleased only by a good many sacrifices. Elton. I am as confident of seeing Frank here before the middle of January. Miss Smith.--So it proved. at dinner. and he will be with us within a fortnight." "Yes.-for when happily released from Mr. that she must be almost as happy as yourself.--your pretty little friend." continued Mr. and my son--and then I should say we were quite complete. I had a letter from him this morning. "He has been wanting to come to us. you know)--The case is." "What a very great pleasure it will be to you! and Mrs. "We want only two more to be just the right number. and that Frank's coming depends upon their being put off. or the substance of it. has a particular dislike to: and though it is thought necessary to invite them once in two or three years. If they are not put off. the very first leisure from the saddle of mutton. and fully assented to his proposition of Mr. and seated by Mr. to say to her. Weston is so anxious to be acquainted with him. I should like to see two more here. The case. and has been so little used to them at Hartfield. is--(but this is quite between ourselves: I did not mention a syllable of it in the other room. There are secrets in all families. you see. He has those to please who must be pleased. "ever since September: every letter has been full of it. Weston.possibly pass without bringing forward the same information again. I believe you did not hear me telling the others in the drawing-room that we are expecting Frank. I have not the smallest doubt of the issue. of some consequence. because it is a family that a certain lady. But I know they will. but he cannot command his own time. She does not depend upon his coming so much as I do: but she does not know the parties so well as I do. at Enscombe. he cannot stir. she would be. from the open-hearted Mr. that she cannot .

" replied Emma." Emma liked the subject so well. that we are by no means so sure of seeing Mr. that he should excite such an affection. that she should be very glad to be secure of undergoing the anxiety of a first meeting at the time talked of: "for I cannot depend upon his coming. Mr.calculate on their effects. I shall think so too. Mrs." "My Emma!" replied Mrs. upon her temper. I cannot be so sanguine as Mr. though I have never been at the place in my life. on Frank's account. To you--to my two daughters--I may venture on the truth. Frank Churchill. Churchill. to him.-Mrs." "Yes--I have some right to that knowledge. and expecting every thing to be as she likes). she has no more heart than a stone to people in general. depends upon her being willing to spare him. every body knows Mrs. who had not been attending before--"You must know. which I imagine to be the most certain thing in the world. for. that she began upon it. And it is no small credit. that she knew the first meeting must be rather alarming. my dear Mrs. I am very much afraid that it will all end in nothing." "I am sorry there should be any thing like doubt in the case.--She is an odd woman!--But I never allow myself to speak ill of her. in short. for I do believe her to be very fond of him. must be dreadful. Weston. as his father thinks. as I have been long in the practice of doing. has been telling you exactly how the matter stands?" "Yes--it seems to depend upon nothing but the ill-humour of Mrs. except herself: but she has always been kind to him (in her way--allowing for little whims and caprices. Mr. "but am disposed to side with you. Churchill." replied Isabella: "and I am sure I never think of that poor young man without the greatest compassion. Weston. Weston. in my opinion. If you think he will come. very soon after their moving into the drawing-room: wishing her joy-yet observing. I used to think she was not capable of being fond of any body. Weston agreed to it. for you know Enscombe. smiling. to Mrs. Weston. It depends entirely upon his aunt's spirits and pleasure. Mrs. To be constantly living with an ill-tempered person. It is what we . in my opinion. "what is the certainty of caprice?" Then turning to Isabella. and his coming now. Churchill rules at Enscombe. though I would not say it to any body else. Weston." "Oh. but added. and the devil of a temper. I dare say. Knightley. and is a very odd-tempered woman. Churchill.

Even if this family. may be teazed. are put off. but one cannot comprehend a young man's being under such restraint. as not to be able to spend a week with his father. What a blessing. They are jealous even of his regard for his father. with a degree of unreserve which she would not hazard with Isabella." . Emma found an opportunity of saying. Mr. Weston.happily have never known any thing of. and one can hardly conceive a young man's not having it in his power to do as much as that. perhaps. and. certainly must not be judged by general rules: she is so very unreasonable. and I wish Mr. While he talked to Isabella." replied Mrs. She should then have heard more: Mrs. I can feel no dependence on his coming. Neither wine nor conversation was any thing to him. To be sitting long after dinner. and every delay makes one more apprehensive of other delays. in judging of the conduct of any one individual of any one family. she really believed. Weston would speak to her. I cannot bear to imagine any reluctance on his side. "And so you do not consider this visit from your son as by any means certain. and the sooner it could be over. how unhappy she would have made them!" Emma wished she had been alone with Mrs." "He ought to come. I am still afraid that some excuse may be found for disappointing us. was a confinement that he could not endure. but I am sure there is a great wish on the Churchills' to keep him to themselves. I am sorry for it. that she never had any children! Poor little creatures." said Emma. if she fall into bad hands." "Yes. if he likes it." "One ought to be at Enscombe. I believe. There is jealousy. Weston. excepting those views on the young man. whenever it takes place. But at present there was nothing more to be said. the better. and know the ways of the family. and gladly did he move to those with whom he was always comfortable. he ought to come. but Enscombe. and kept at a distance from those she wants to be with. Weston were less sanguine. "If he could stay only a couple of days. Woodhouse very soon followed them into the drawing-room. but it must be a life of misery. A young woman. the Braithwaites. The introduction must be unpleasant. of which her own imagination had already given her such instinctive knowledge. In short. before one decides upon what he can do. and every thing gives way to her. would scarcely try to conceal any thing relative to the Churchills from her. "One ought to use the same caution. however.

Elton. from the amusement afforded her mind by the expectation of Mr. to whom she owes every thing. at times. was willing to forget his late improprieties. Weston and Emma were sitting together on a sofa. and then coolly said. was one of the first to walk in. in good spirits too. and it was as much as his three companions could do. may be this very circumstance of his coming away from them to visit us. since their being at Randalls?-he felt much anxiety--he must confess that the nature of her complaint alarmed him considerably." "He may have a great deal of influence on some points. but at last the drawing-room party did receive an augmentation. according to my idea of Mrs. Weston was chatty and convivial. to entertain away his notice of the lateness of the hour. while she exercises incessant caprice towards him." "My dearest Emma. with your sweet temper. and be as well satisfied with him as before. "Did she know?--had she heard any thing about her. in very good spirits. it is but too likely." And in this style he talked on for some time very properly. that while she makes no sacrifice for the comfort of the husband. "and on others. not much attending to any answer. it would be most natural. lovely. to whom she owes nothing at all. Mr. and. He professed himself extremely anxious about her fair friend-her fair. and when he had drank his tea he was quite ready to go home. seated himself between them. Now. she should frequently be governed by the nephew. or to lay down rules for it: you must let it go its own way. very little: and among those. on which she is beyond his reach. amiable friend. Churchill. unless he comes." Emma listened. before the other gentlemen appeared." continued Mrs. but it may be perfectly impossible for him to know beforehand when it will be."But she is so fond of the nephew: he is so very great a favourite." Volume One Chapter Fifteen Mr. Woodhouse was soon ready for his tea. do not pretend. "I shall not be satisfied. Mr. was ready to listen with most friendly smiles. with scarcely an invitation. to understand a bad one. and no friend to early separations of any sort. Emma. Weston. . Frank Churchill. Mrs. I have no doubt of his having. considerable influence. He joined them immediately. and on his making Harriet his very first subject.

and though she tried to laugh it off and bring the subject back into its proper course. she was too much provoked and offended to have the power of directly saying any thing to the purpose." Emma saw Mrs. than on Harriet's--more anxious that she should escape the infection. John Knightley now came into the room from examining the weather. He began with great earnestness to entreat her to refrain from visiting the sick-chamber again. but it was such a look as she thought must restore him to his senses. Is this fair. Perry and learnt his opinion. it seemed all at once as if he were more afraid of its being a bad sore throat on her account. Goddard's till it were certain that Miss Smith's disorder had no infection? He could not be satisfied without a promise-would not she give him her influence in procuring it?" "So scrupulous for others. Elton took the reproof. concluding with these words to Mr. with a strong drifting wind. Woodhouse: . for the present--to entreat her to promise him not to venture into such hazard till he had seen Mr. and then left the sofa. than that there should be no infection in the complaint. He turned to Mrs. Weston's surprize. so rapidly did another subject succeed. and as for herself. and giving her all her attention. "Would not she give him her support?--would not she add her persuasions to his. Weston to implore her assistance. But at last there seemed a perverse turn.but altogether sufficiently awake to the terror of a bad sore throat. It did appear--there was no concealing it--exactly like the pretence of being in love with her. She was vexed. the most contemptible and abominable! and she had difficulty in behaving with temper. and opened on them all with the information of the ground being covered with snow. and felt that it must be great. at an address which. an inconstancy. to induce Miss Woodhouse not to go to Mrs. in words and manner. instead of Harriet. and Emma was quite in charity with him. and of its still snowing fast. "and yet so careless for herself! She wanted me to nurse my cold by staying at home to-day. was assuming to himself the right of first interest in her. removing to a seat by her sister. She had not time to know how Mr. Have not I some right to complain? I am sure of your kind support and aid. if real. Mrs. and yet will not promise to avoid the danger of catching an ulcerated sore throat herself." he continued. Weston?--Judge between us. She could only give him a look. for Mr. there was no putting an end to his extreme solicitude about her.

His eldest daughter's alarm was equal to his own. and of their having so many friends about them. Woodhouse uncomfortable. sir. every body was either surprized or not surprized." said he. As to there being any quantity of snow fallen or likely to fall to impede their return. or some comfort to offer. for of course you saw there would be snow very soon. was confessing that he had known it to be snowing some time. from the consciousness of there being but two spare rooms in the house. that he might be able to keep them all at Randalls. if one is blown over in the bleak part of the common field there will be the other at hand. but had not said a word. I dare say we shall be all safe at Hartfield before midnight. lest it should make Mr. Every body must have seen the snow coming on." Mr. and had some question to ask. I admired your spirit. but every body else had something to say. and with the utmost good-will was sure that accommodation might be found for every body. who was pursuing his triumph rather unfeelingly. but in a state that admitted no delay. Something new for your coachman and horses to be making their way through a storm of snow. that with a little contrivance. Woodhouse was silent from consternation. she was eager to have it settled. that her father and Emma should remain at Randalls. was full in her imagination. Mrs. that was a mere joke. while she and her husband set forward instantly through all the possible accumulations of drifted snow that might impede them. . he was afraid they would find no difficulty. and all that he could say for some time. Woodhouse's first exclamation. Weston and Emma tried earnestly to cheer him and turn his attention from his son-in-law. and fancying the road to be now just passable for adventurous people. with triumph of a different sort. To her he looked for comfort. her representation of the excellence of the horses. which she hardly knew how to do. "What is to be done. revived him a little. He wished the road might be impassable."This will prove a spirited beginning of your winter engagements. every body might be lodged. while her children were at Hartfield. The horror of being blocked up at Randalls. and we are two carriages. sir. and her assurances of safety. "I admired your resolution very much. Another hour or two's snow can hardly make the road impassable. and of James. and I dare say we shall get home very well." Poor Mr. and be an excuse for his hurrying away. my dear Emma?--what is to be done?" was Mr. Weston. calling on his wife to agree with him. "in venturing out in such weather.

if we set off directly. He had seen the coachmen. who had left the room immediately after his brother's first report of the snow. and while the others were variously urging and recommending. and if we do come to any thing very bad. it is the most extraordinary sort of thing in the world. "I dare say we shall be able to get along. He was satisfied of there being no present danger in returning home. the moment I got home. Knightley and Emma settled it in a few brief sentences: thus-"Your father will not be easy. I should not mind walking half the way. To Isabella." "Shall I ring the bell?" "Yes. but Emma could not so entirely give up the hope of their being all able to get away. who was immediately set as much at ease on the subject as his nervous constitution allowed. and there was every appearance of its being soon over. and they were still discussing the point. but no assurances could convince him that it was safe to stay. but the alarm that had been raised could not be appeased so as to admit of any comfort for him while he continued at Randalls. He had gone beyond the sweep-some way along the Highbury road--the snow was nowhere above half an inch deep--in many places hardly enough to whiten the ground. whenever they liked it." "Indeed!" replied he. I could change my shoes. I am not at all afraid. a very few flakes were falling at present. and they were scarcely less acceptable to Emma on her father's account. but the clouds were parting. my love. if the others are." Isabella turned to Mrs." . either now or an hour hence. Weston could only approve. and could answer for there not being the smallest difficulty in their getting home. you know."You had better order the carriage directly. "Then." said she. Weston for her approbation of the plan. why do not you go?" "I am ready. and it is not the sort of thing that gives me cold. and they both agreed with him in there being nothing to apprehend. Mrs. and told them that he had been out of doors to examine. the relief of such tidings was very great. when Mr. for in general every thing does give you cold. Mr. Knightley. Isabella then went to Emma. my dear Isabella. came back again. do. I can get out and walk. It will be bad enough for the horses. Walk home!--you are prettily shod for walking home. I dare say.

Woodhouse. and the other recover his temper and happiness when this visit of hardship were over. Elton actually making violent love to her: availing himself of the precious opportunity. She felt that half this folly must be drunkenness. she could have talked to him of Harriet. very much resolved on being seriously accepted as soon as possible. . It would not have been the awkwardness of a moment. and the carriages spoken for. Knightley and Mr. He did not know what they had best do. and the discovery of a much darker night than he had been prepared for. It really was so. but scarcely had she begun. They must keep as much together as they could. He was afraid poor Isabella would not like it. and in short. was professing himself her lover. The carriage came: and Mr. and Mr. but flattering himself that his ardent attachment and unequalled love and unexampled passion could not fail of having some effect. he would go on. to get sober and cool. "He was afraid they should have a very bad drive. the lover of Harriet. Elton. than she found her subject cut up--her hand seized--her attention demanded. that the door was to be lawfully shut on them. she would rather it had not happened. but not all that either could say could prevent some renewal of alarm at the sight of the snow which had actually fallen. stept in after his wife very naturally." and James was talked to. She tried to stop him. forgetting that he did not belong to their party. and that they were to have a tete-a-tete drive. by her own manners. previous to the suspicions of this very day. Weston's good wine. John Knightley. always the first object on such occasions. And there would be poor Emma in the carriage behind. so that Emma found. Without scruple--without apology-without much apparent diffidence. A few minutes more. scarcely had they passed the sweep-gate and joined the other carriage.And the bell was rung. declaring sentiments which must be already well known. but vainly. was carefully attended to his own by Mr. Weston. she was immediately preparing to speak with exquisite calmness and gravity of the weather and the night. To restrain him as much as might be. Elton. and therefore could hope that it might belong only to the passing hour. hoping--fearing--adoring--ready to die if she refused him. Isabella stept in after her father. the thought of the moment made her resolve to restrain herself when she did speak. She believed he had been drinking too much of Mr. Mr. and Emma hoped to see one troublesome companion deposited in his own house. But now. Angry as she was. and say it all. and felt sure that he would want to be talking nonsense. it would have been rather a pleasure. on being escorted and followed into the second carriage by Mr. and the three-quarters of a mile would have seemed but one. and given a charge to go very slow and wait for the other carriage.

very far. there is no unsteadiness of character. "It is impossible for me to doubt any longer. I have thought only of you. indeed." "Miss Smith!--message to Miss Smith!--What could she possibly mean!"-And he repeated her words with such assurance of accent. she replied. if you please. Elton. I protest against having paid the smallest attention to any one else. replied. she thought more of his inconstancy and presumption. After such behaviour. "Mr. and with fewer struggles for politeness. He perfectly knew his own meaning. such boastful pretence of amazement. Every thing that I have said or done. which I had not supposed possible! Believe me. . with a mixture of the serious and the playful. and slightly touched upon his respect for Miss Smith as her friend. I am far. Elton. but no more of this to me. and I am very sorry--extremely sorry--But. Mr." But Mr. upon my honour.Accordingly.--he resumed the subject of his own passion. "what can be the meaning of this?-Miss Smith!--I never thought of Miss Smith in the whole course of my existence--never paid her any attentions. or you could not speak either to me. and having warmly protested against her suspicion as most injurious. Elton. that she could not help replying with quickness. as I have witnessed during the last month. Elton. and was very urgent for a favourable answer. when Miss Woodhouse is near! No. Elton had only drunk wine enough to elevate his spirits. in such a manner. this is the most extraordinary conduct! and I can account for it only in one way. Mr. and I will endeavour to forget it.-but acknowledging his wonder that Miss Smith should be mentioned at all. my astonishment is much beyond any thing I can express. which she hoped would best suit his half and half state. you are not yourself. "I am very much astonished." "Good Heaven!" cried Mr. You have made yourself too clear. indeed!--Oh! Miss Woodhouse! who can think of Miss Smith. or of Harriet. not at all to confuse his intellects. This to me! you forget yourself-you take me for my friend--any message to Miss Smith I shall be happy to deliver. but as your friend: never cared whether she were dead or alive. If she has fancied otherwise. sir. to Miss Smith--such attentions as I have been in the daily habit of observing--to be addressing me in this manner--this is an unsteadiness of character. her own wishes have misled her. from gratified in being the object of such professions. Miss Smith. As she thought less of his inebriety. Command yourself enough to say no more. but as your friend.

it appeared. quite so much at a loss. probably. I think seriously of Miss Smith!--Miss Smith is a very good sort of girl. doubt it. Elton's sanguine state of mind. Am I to believe that you have never sought to recommend yourself particularly to Miss Smith?--that you have never thought seriously of her?" "Never. I am very sorry that you should have been giving way to any feelings-Nothing could be farther from my wishes--your attachment to my friend Harriet--your pursuit of her. seriously. I should certainly have thought you judged ill in making your visits so frequent. Miss Smith might have been led into a misconception of your views. you have been entirely mistaken in supposing it. till this moment. But. No!--(in an accent meant to be insinuating)--I am sure you have seen and understood me. She was too completely overpowered to be immediately able to reply: and two moments of silence being ample encouragement for Mr. affronted in his turn: "never. So far from having long understood you. I am exceedingly sorry: but it is well that the mistake ends where it does. I have been in a most complete error with respect to your views. as to be addressing myself to Miss Smith!-No. I have seen you only as the admirer of my friend. as it is." cried he. has been with the sole view of marking my adoration of yourself." "No. I need not so totally despair of an equal alliance. As to myself. . there are men who might not object to--Every body has their level: but as for myself. as he joyously exclaimed-"Charming Miss Woodhouse! allow me to interpret this interesting silence. no doubt. he tried to take her hand again. (pursuit." cried Emma. In no other light could you have been more to me than a common acquaintance. and I should be happy to see her respectably settled. and I have been very earnestly wishing you success: but had I supposed that she were not your attraction to Hartfield. Had the same behaviour continued.for many weeks past. I think.) gave me great pleasure. It confesses that you have long understood me. not being aware. I wish her extremely well: and. my visits to Hartfield have been for yourself only. madam. on hearing this-which of all her unpleasant sensations was uppermost. madam. of the very great inequality which you are so sensible of. You cannot really. sir. "it confesses no such thing." It would be impossible to say what Emma felt. I assure you. I am not. any more than myself. and the encouragement I received--" "Encouragement!--I give you encouragement!--Sir.

but their straightforward emotions left no room for the little zigzags of embarrassment. but. and there it seemed as if her return only were wanted to make every thing go well: for Mr. will not be lasting. I could have borne any thing. they had to continue together a few minutes longer. John Knightley. and. they found themselves. her manner too decided to invite supplication. there would have been desperate awkwardness. "If I had not persuaded Harriet into liking the man. and in this state of swelling resentment. under indescribable irritation of spirits. and so particularly solicitous for the comfort of her father. I have no thoughts of matrimony at present. and the maid sent away. There she was welcomed. than she actually was. Volume One Chapter Sixteen The hair was curled. was now all kindness and attention. who had been trembling for the dangers of a solitary drive from Vicarage Lane--turning a corner which he could never bear to think of-and in strange hands--a mere common coachman--no James.the disappointment is single. Without knowing when the carriage turned into Vicarage Lane. with the utmost delight.--It was a wretched business indeed!--Such an overthrow of every thing she had been wishing for!--Such a development of every thing most unwelcome!--Such a blow for Harriet!--that was the worst of all. all was light. and the day was concluding in peace and comfort to all their little party. If there had not been so much anger.--But her mind had never been in such perturbation. He might have doubled his presumption to me-but poor Harriet!" . could the effects of her blunders have been confined to herself. except herself. and it needed a very strong effort to appear attentive and cheerful till the usual hour of separating allowed her the relief of quiet reflection. or when it stopped. The compliment was just returned. I trust. and mutually deep mortification. and she would gladly have submitted to feel yet more mistaken-more in error--more disgraced by mis-judgment. at the door of his house. and he was out before another syllable passed. as to seem--if not quite ready to join him in a basin of gruel--perfectly sensible of its being exceedingly wholesome. Every part of it brought pain and humiliation. of some sort or other. ashamed of his ill-humour. all at once.--Emma then felt it indispensable to wish him a good night. for the fears of Mr." He was too angry to say another word. and Emma sat down to think and be miserable. coldly and proudly. she was then conveyed to Hartfield. compared with the evil to Harriet. and. Woodhouse had confined them to a foot-pace. by her father.

but she was perfectly easy as to his not suffering any disappointment that need be cared for. and blushed to think how much truer a knowledge of his character had been there shewn than any she had reached herself. of taste. pretended to be in love. Contrary to the usual course of things. but it had passed as his way.How she could have been so deceived!--He protested that he had never thought seriously of Harriet--never! She looked back as well as she could. John Knightley was she indebted for her first idea on the subject. and made every thing bend to it. His manners. of knowledge. that with all the gentleness of his address. as a mere error of judgment. the very reverse of what she had meant and believed him. Sighs and fine words had been given in abundance. He wanted to marry well. for the first start of its possibility. with its "ready wit"--but then the "soft eyes"-in fact it suited neither. There was no denying that those brothers had penetration.-how clearly they had seemed to point at Harriet. less allied with real love. The picture!--How eager he had been about the picture!-and the charade!--and an hundred other circumstances. There had been no real affection either in his language or manners. Knightley had once said to her about Mr. and having the arrogance to raise his eyes to her. Elton was proving himself. she supposed. especially of late. She remembered what Mr. she had never. proud. or fancy any tone of voice. but Mr. To Mr. and was insulted by his hopes. but. and little concerned about the feelings of others. the conviction he had professed that Mr. must have been unmarked. It was dreadfully mortifying. Elton would never marry indiscreetly. She had taken up the idea. as one proof among others that he had not always lived in the best society. suspected it to mean any thing but grateful respect to her as Harriet's friend. She thought nothing of his attachment. conceited. but it was all confusion. true elegance was sometimes wanting. the caution he had given. wavering. Elton's wanting to pay his addresses to her had sunk him in her opinion. thought his manners to herself unnecessarily gallant. His professions and his proposals did him no service. assuming. or she could not have been so misled. in many respects. To be sure. however. till this very day. dubious. Mr. . Who could have seen through such thick-headed nonsense? Certainly she had often. but she could hardly devise any set of expressions. it was a jumble without taste or truth. the charade. very full of his own claims. for an instant. Elton. She need not trouble herself to pity him.

it was wrong. the younger branch of a very ancient family--and that the Eltons were nobody. in every other kind of consequence. and the Woodhouses had long held a high place in the consideration of the neighbourhood which Mr. to take so active a part in bringing any two people together. The first error and the worst lay at her door. and if Miss Woodhouse of Hartfield. were not quite so easily obtained as he had fancied. she had little right to wonder that he. the heiress of thirty thousand pounds. and be so blind to what rose above. in fancying himself a very decided favourite. and resolved to do such things no more. should consider her as aware of his views. with self-interest to blind him. like Mr. should have mistaken hers. but their fortune. But--that he should talk of encouragement. he would soon try for Miss Somebody else with twenty. to marry him!--should suppose himself her equal in connexion or mind!--look down upon her friend. from other sources. If she had so misinterpreted his feelings. or with ten. meaning (in short). was such as to make them scarcely secondary to Donwell Abbey itself. and after raving a little about the seeming incongruity of gentle manners and a conceited head. The very want of such equality might prevent his perception of it. The landed property of Hartfield certainly was inconsiderable. as (supposing her real motive unperceived) might warrant a man of ordinary observation and delicacy. or any thing to recommend him to notice but his situation and his civility. It was foolish. that evidently must have been his dependence. Elton had first entered not two years ago. . to which all the rest of Highbury belonged. He must know that the Woodhouses had been settled for several generations at Hartfield. as to fancy himself shewing no presumption in addressing her!-It was most provoking. a trick of what ought to be simple. so well understanding the gradations of rank below him. She was quite concerned and ashamed. It was adventuring too far. being but a sort of notch in the Donwell Abbey estate. without any alliances but in trade. and all the elegancies of mind. but he must know that in fortune and consequence she was greatly his superior. assuming too much. Perhaps it was not fair to expect him to feel how very much he was her inferior in talent. so full of courtesy and attention. Elton.-But he had fancied her in love with him.He only wanted to aggrandise and enrich himself. to make his way as he could. accepting his attentions. making light of what ought to be serious. Emma was obliged in common honesty to stop and admit that her own behaviour to him had been so complaisant and obliging.

and avoiding eclat. were enough to occupy her in most unmirthful reflections some time longer. with the awkwardness of future meetings. or so particularly amiable as to make it shocking to disappoint him--that Harriet's nature should not be of that superior sort in which the feelings are most acute and retentive-and that there could be no necessity for any body's knowing what had passed except the three principals. . Oh! that I had been satisfied with persuading her not to accept young Martin. But now. The youth and cheerfulness of morning are in happy analogy. I am sure I have not an idea of any body else who would be at all desirable for her. and if the distress be not poignant enough to keep the eyes unclosed. poor girl. That was well done of me. but there I should have stopped. and might be. To youth and natural cheerfulness like Emma's. her peace is cut up for some time. and to depend on getting tolerably out of it. for she is as modest and humble as I used to think him. and then resumed a more serious. There I was quite right." said she.--William Coxe--Oh! no. and left the rest to time and chance. and if she were not to feel this disappointment so very much. and all that poor Harriet would be suffering. and of powerful operation. and she went to bed at last with nothing settled but the conviction of her having blundered most dreadfully. more dispiriting cogitation upon what had been." She stopt to blush and laugh at her own relapse. if I had not assured her of his attachment. and especially for her father's being given a moment's uneasiness about it. more ready to see alleviations of the evil before her. The distressing explanation she had to make to Harriet. and must be. of subduing feelings. I have been but half a friend to her. She might never have thought of him but for me. Elton should not be really in love with her. "actually talked poor Harriet into being very much attached to this man. I was introducing her into good company."Here have I. and certainly never would have thought of him with hope. the difficulties of continuing or discontinuing the acquaintance. concealing resentment. they will be sure to open to sensations of softened pain and brighter hope. It was a great consolation that Mr. I ought not to have attempted more. I could not endure William Coxe-a pert young lawyer. Emma got up on the morrow more disposed for comfort than she had gone to bed. the return of day will hardly fail to bring return of spirits. and giving her the opportunity of pleasing some one worth having. though under temporary gloom at night.

but for her private perplexities. and though she hoped and believed him to be really taking comfort in some society or other. full of their merits. and the sight of a great deal of snow on the ground did her further service. which is of all others the most unfriendly for exercise. tried to persuade his daughter to stay behind with all her children. that his amiableness never failed him during the rest of his stay at Hartfield. why do not you stay at home like poor Mr. and return to his lamentations over the destiny of poor Isabella. every morning beginning in rain or snow. Elton?" These days of confinement would have been. no church for her on Sunday any more than on Christmas Day. and all the present comfort of delay. and no need to find excuses for Mr. It was weather which might fairly confine every body at home. remarkably comfortable. whom no weather could keep entirely from them.These were very cheering thoughts. and she was therefore safe from either exciting or receiving unpleasant and most unsuitable ideas. it was very pleasant to have her father so well satisfied with his being all alone in his own house. besides. Knightley. Knightley.--which poor Isabella. whose feelings must always be of great importance to his companions. . as such seclusion exactly suited her brother. Volume One Chapter Seventeen Mr. and Mrs. and the atmosphere in that unsettled state between frost and thaw. and speaking pleasantly of every body. for any thing was welcome that might justify their all three being quite asunder at present. Elton's absenting himself. passing her life with those she doated on. though Christmas Day. and Mr.-"Ah! Mr. and every evening setting in to freeze. Woodhouse having. The weather was most favourable for her. But with all the hopes of cheerfulness. and to hear him say to Mr. and he had. so thoroughly cleared off his ill-humour at Randalls. was obliged to see the whole party set off. The ground covered with snow. blind to their faults. No intercourse with Harriet possible but by note. He was always agreeable and obliging. as made it impossible for Emma to be ever perfectly at ease. she could not go to church. too wise to stir out. there was still such an evil hanging over her in the hour of explanation with Harriet. Mr. Woodhouse would have been miserable had his daughter attempted it. she was for many days a most honourable prisoner. John Knightley were not detained long at Hartfield. The weather soon improved enough for those to move who must move. as usual.

Mr. where.--Mr. in compliance with the pressing entreaties of some friends. and very much regretted the impossibility he was under. though not able to give him much credit for the manner in which it was announced. The evening of the very day on which they went brought a note from Mr. She now resolved to keep Harriet no longer in the dark. and saw nothing extraordinary in his language. of whose friendly civilities he should ever retain a grateful sense-and had Mr. and it was desirable that she should have as much time as possible for getting the better of her other complaint before the gentleman's return. Woodhouse. should be happy to attend to them. "that he was proposing to leave Highbury the following morning in his way to Bath.--Her name was not mentioned. . for it supplied them with fresh matter for thought and conversation during the rest of their lonely evening. at first. all her convictions. however. Goddard's accordingly the very next day. She went to Mrs. Elton's best compliments. civil. a long. and Emma was in spirits to persuade them away with all her usual promptitude.and always innocently busy. and his fears that Mr. Woodhouse. Elton's absence just at this time was the very thing to be desired." Emma was most agreeably surprized. might have been a model of right feminine happiness. with Mr. from which she was so pointedly excluded. It was a very useful note.--Her father was quite taken up with the surprize of so sudden a journey. Woodhouse any commands. She had not even a share in his opening compliments. all her prophecies for the last six weeks. Resentment could not have been more plainly spoken than in a civility to her father. and a severe one it was.-She had to destroy all the hopes which she had been so industriously feeding--to appear in the ungracious character of the one preferred-and acknowledge herself grossly mistaken and mis-judging in all her ideas on one subject. he had engaged to spend a few weeks. from various circumstances of weather and business. Woodhouse talked over his alarms. Elton might never get safely to the end of it. to undergo the necessary penance of communication. of taking a personal leave of Mr. as she thought. and such an ill-judged solemnity of leave-taking in his graceful acknowledgments. all her observations. to say. ceremonious note. It did. Elton to Mr. She had reason to believe her nearly recovered from her cold. She admired him for contriving it.-and there was so striking a change in all this. could not escape her father's suspicion.

The confession completely renewed her first shame--and the sight of Harriet's tears made her think that she should never be in charity with herself again. Harriet bore the intelligence very well--blaming nobody-and in every thing testifying such an ingenuousness of disposition and lowly opinion of herself, as must appear with particular advantage at that moment to her friend. Emma was in the humour to value simplicity and modesty to the utmost; and all that was amiable, all that ought to be attaching, seemed on Harriet's side, not her own. Harriet did not consider herself as having any thing to complain of. The affection of such a man as Mr. Elton would have been too great a distinction.-She never could have deserved him--and nobody but so partial and kind a friend as Miss Woodhouse would have thought it possible. Her tears fell abundantly--but her grief was so truly artless, that no dignity could have made it more respectable in Emma's eyes-and she listened to her and tried to console her with all her heart and understanding--really for the time convinced that Harriet was the superior creature of the two--and that to resemble her would be more for her own welfare and happiness than all that genius or intelligence could do. It was rather too late in the day to set about being simple-minded and ignorant; but she left her with every previous resolution confirmed of being humble and discreet, and repressing imagination all the rest of her life. Her second duty now, inferior only to her father's claims, was to promote Harriet's comfort, and endeavour to prove her own affection in some better method than by match-making. She got her to Hartfield, and shewed her the most unvarying kindness, striving to occupy and amuse her, and by books and conversation, to drive Mr. Elton from her thoughts. Time, she knew, must be allowed for this being thoroughly done; and she could suppose herself but an indifferent judge of such matters in general, and very inadequate to sympathise in an attachment to Mr. Elton in particular; but it seemed to her reasonable that at Harriet's age, and with the entire extinction of all hope, such a progress might be made towards a state of composure by the time of Mr. Elton's return, as to allow them all to meet again in the common routine of acquaintance, without any danger of betraying sentiments or increasing them. Harriet did think him all perfection, and maintained the non-existence of any body equal to him in person or goodness--and did, in truth,

prove herself more resolutely in love than Emma had foreseen; but yet it appeared to her so natural, so inevitable to strive against an inclination of that sort unrequited, that she could not comprehend its continuing very long in equal force. If Mr. Elton, on his return, made his own indifference as evident and indubitable as she could not doubt he would anxiously do, she could not imagine Harriet's persisting to place her happiness in the sight or the recollection of him. Their being fixed, so absolutely fixed, in the same place, was bad for each, for all three. Not one of them had the power of removal, or of effecting any material change of society. They must encounter each other, and make the best of it. Harriet was farther unfortunate in the tone of her companions at Mrs. Goddard's; Mr. Elton being the adoration of all the teachers and great girls in the school; and it must be at Hartfield only that she could have any chance of hearing him spoken of with cooling moderation or repellent truth. Where the wound had been given, there must the cure be found if anywhere; and Emma felt that, till she saw her in the way of cure, there could be no true peace for herself.
Volume One Chapter Eighteen

Mr. Frank Churchill did not come. When the time proposed drew near, Mrs. Weston's fears were justified in the arrival of a letter of excuse. For the present, he could not be spared, to his "very great mortification and regret; but still he looked forward with the hope of coming to Randalls at no distant period." Mrs. Weston was exceedingly disappointed--much more disappointed, in fact, than her husband, though her dependence on seeing the young man had been so much more sober: but a sanguine temper, though for ever expecting more good than occurs, does not always pay for its hopes by any proportionate depression. It soon flies over the present failure, and begins to hope again. For half an hour Mr. Weston was surprized and sorry; but then he began to perceive that Frank's coming two or three months later would be a much better plan; better time of year; better weather; and that he would be able, without any doubt, to stay considerably longer with them than if he had come sooner. These feelings rapidly restored his comfort, while Mrs. Weston, of a more apprehensive disposition, foresaw nothing but a repetition

of excuses and delays; and after all her concern for what her husband was to suffer, suffered a great deal more herself. Emma was not at this time in a state of spirits to care really about Mr. Frank Churchill's not coming, except as a disappointment at Randalls. The acquaintance at present had no charm for her. She wanted, rather, to be quiet, and out of temptation; but still, as it was desirable that she should appear, in general, like her usual self, she took care to express as much interest in the circumstance, and enter as warmly into Mr. and Mrs. Weston's disappointment, as might naturally belong to their friendship. She was the first to announce it to Mr. Knightley; and exclaimed quite as much as was necessary, (or, being acting a part, perhaps rather more,) at the conduct of the Churchills, in keeping him away. She then proceeded to say a good deal more than she felt, of the advantage of such an addition to their confined society in Surry; the pleasure of looking at somebody new; the gala-day to Highbury entire, which the sight of him would have made; and ending with reflections on the Churchills again, found herself directly involved in a disagreement with Mr. Knightley; and, to her great amusement, perceived that she was taking the other side of the question from her real opinion, and making use of Mrs. Weston's arguments against herself. "The Churchills are very likely in fault," said Mr. Knightley, coolly; "but I dare say he might come if he would." "I do not know why you should say so. He wishes exceedingly to come; but his uncle and aunt will not spare him." "I cannot believe that he has not the power of coming, if he made a point of it. It is too unlikely, for me to believe it without proof." "How odd you are! What has Mr. Frank Churchill done, to make you suppose him such an unnatural creature?" "I am not supposing him at all an unnatural creature, in suspecting that he may have learnt to be above his connexions, and to care very little for any thing but his own pleasure, from living with those who have always set him the example of it. It is a great deal more natural than one could wish, that a young man, brought up by those who are proud, luxurious, and selfish, should be proud, luxurious, and selfish too. If Frank Churchill had wanted to see his father, he would have contrived it between September and January. A man at his age--what is he?--three or four-and-twenty--cannot be without the means of doing as much as that. It is impossible."

"That's easily said, and easily felt by you, who have always been your own master. You are the worst judge in the world, Mr. Knightley, of the difficulties of dependence. You do not know what it is to have tempers to manage." "It is not to be conceived that a man of three or four-and-twenty should not have liberty of mind or limb to that amount. He cannot want money--he cannot want leisure. We know, on the contrary, that he has so much of both, that he is glad to get rid of them at the idlest haunts in the kingdom. We hear of him for ever at some watering-place or other. A little while ago, he was at Weymouth. This proves that he can leave the Churchills." "Yes, sometimes he can." "And those times are whenever he thinks it worth his while; whenever there is any temptation of pleasure." "It is very unfair to judge of any body's conduct, without an intimate knowledge of their situation. Nobody, who has not been in the interior of a family, can say what the difficulties of any individual of that family may be. We ought to be acquainted with Enscombe, and with Mrs. Churchill's temper, before we pretend to decide upon what her nephew can do. He may, at times, be able to do a great deal more than he can at others." "There is one thing, Emma, which a man can always do, if he chuses, and that is, his duty; not by manoeuvring and finessing, but by vigour and resolution. It is Frank Churchill's duty to pay this attention to his father. He knows it to be so, by his promises and messages; but if he wished to do it, it might be done. A man who felt rightly would say at once, simply and resolutely, to Mrs. Churchill-`Every sacrifice of mere pleasure you will always find me ready to make to your convenience; but I must go and see my father immediately. I know he would be hurt by my failing in such a mark of respect to him on the present occasion. I shall, therefore, set off to-morrow.'-If he would say so to her at once, in the tone of decision becoming a man, there would be no opposition made to his going." "No," said Emma, laughing; "but perhaps there might be some made to his coming back again. Such language for a young man entirely dependent, to use!--Nobody but you, Mr. Knightley, would imagine it possible. But you have not an idea of what is requisite in situations directly opposite to your own. Mr. Frank Churchill to be making such a speech as that to the uncle and aunt, who have brought him up, and are to provide for him!--Standing up in the middle of the room,

I suppose, and speaking as loud as he could!--How can you imagine such conduct practicable?" "Depend upon it, Emma, a sensible man would find no difficulty in it. He would feel himself in the right; and the declaration--made, of course, as a man of sense would make it, in a proper manner-would do him more good, raise him higher, fix his interest stronger with the people he depended on, than all that a line of shifts and expedients can ever do. Respect would be added to affection. They would feel that they could trust him; that the nephew who had done rightly by his father, would do rightly by them; for they know, as well as he does, as well as all the world must know, that he ought to pay this visit to his father; and while meanly exerting their power to delay it, are in their hearts not thinking the better of him for submitting to their whims. Respect for right conduct is felt by every body. If he would act in this sort of manner, on principle, consistently, regularly, their little minds would bend to his." "I rather doubt that. You are very fond of bending little minds; but where little minds belong to rich people in authority, I think they have a knack of swelling out, till they are quite as unmanageable as great ones. I can imagine, that if you, as you are, Mr. Knightley, were to be transported and placed all at once in Mr. Frank Churchill's situation, you would be able to say and do just what you have been recommending for him; and it might have a very good effect. The Churchills might not have a word to say in return; but then, you would have no habits of early obedience and long observance to break through. To him who has, it might not be so easy to burst forth at once into perfect independence, and set all their claims on his gratitude and regard at nought. He may have as strong a sense of what would be right, as you can have, without being so equal, under particular circumstances, to act up to it." "Then it would not be so strong a sense. If it failed to produce equal exertion, it could not be an equal conviction." "Oh, the difference of situation and habit! I wish you would try to understand what an amiable young man may be likely to feel in directly opposing those, whom as child and boy he has been looking up to all his life." "Our amiable young man is a very weak young man, if this be the first occasion of his carrying through a resolution to do right against the will of others. It ought to have been a habit with him by

this time, of following his duty, instead of consulting expediency. I can allow for the fears of the child, but not of the man. As he became rational, he ought to have roused himself and shaken off all that was unworthy in their authority. He ought to have opposed the first attempt on their side to make him slight his father. Had he begun as he ought, there would have been no difficulty now." "We shall never agree about him," cried Emma; "but that is nothing extraordinary. I have not the least idea of his being a weak young man: I feel sure that he is not. Mr. Weston would not be blind to folly, though in his own son; but he is very likely to have a more yielding, complying, mild disposition than would suit your notions of man's perfection. I dare say he has; and though it may cut him off from some advantages, it will secure him many others." "Yes; all the advantages of sitting still when he ought to move, and of leading a life of mere idle pleasure, and fancying himself extremely expert in finding excuses for it. He can sit down and write a fine flourishing letter, full of professions and falsehoods, and persuade himself that he has hit upon the very best method in the world of preserving peace at home and preventing his father's having any right to complain. His letters disgust me." "Your feelings are singular. They seem to satisfy every body else." "I suspect they do not satisfy Mrs. Weston. They hardly can satisfy a woman of her good sense and quick feelings: standing in a mother's place, but without a mother's affection to blind her. It is on her account that attention to Randalls is doubly due, and she must doubly feel the omission. Had she been a person of consequence herself, he would have come I dare say; and it would not have signified whether he did or no. Can you think your friend behindhand in these sort of considerations? Do you suppose she does not often say all this to herself? No, Emma, your amiable young man can be amiable only in French, not in English. He may be very `aimable,' have very good manners, and be very agreeable; but he can have no English delicacy towards the feelings of other people: nothing really amiable about him." "You seem determined to think ill of him." "Me!--not at all," replied Mr. Knightley, rather displeased; "I do not want to think ill of him. I should be as ready to acknowledge his merits as any other man; but I hear of none, except what are merely personal; that he is well-grown and good-looking, with smooth, plausible manners."

"Well, if he have nothing else to recommend him, he will be a treasure at Highbury. We do not often look upon fine young men, well-bred and agreeable. We must not be nice and ask for all the virtues into the bargain. Cannot you imagine, Mr. Knightley, what a sensation his coming will produce? There will be but one subject throughout the parishes of Donwell and Highbury; but one interest-one object of curiosity; it will be all Mr. Frank Churchill; we shall think and speak of nobody else." "You will excuse my being so much over-powered. If I find him conversable, I shall be glad of his acquaintance; but if he is only a chattering coxcomb, he will not occupy much of my time or thoughts." "My idea of him is, that he can adapt his conversation to the taste of every body, and has the power as well as the wish of being universally agreeable. To you, he will talk of farming; to me, of drawing or music; and so on to every body, having that general information on all subjects which will enable him to follow the lead, or take the lead, just as propriety may require, and to speak extremely well on each; that is my idea of him." "And mine," said Mr. Knightley warmly, "is, that if he turn out any thing like it, he will be the most insufferable fellow breathing! What! at three-and-twenty to be the king of his company--the great man-the practised politician, who is to read every body's character, and make every body's talents conduce to the display of his own superiority; to be dispensing his flatteries around, that he may make all appear like fools compared with himself! My dear Emma, your own good sense could not endure such a puppy when it came to the point." "I will say no more about him," cried Emma, "you turn every thing to evil. We are both prejudiced; you against, I for him; and we have no chance of agreeing till he is really here." "Prejudiced! I am not prejudiced." "But I am very much, and without being at all ashamed of it. My love for Mr. and Mrs. Weston gives me a decided prejudice in his favour." "He is a person I never think of from one month's end to another," said Mr. Knightley, with a degree of vexation, which made Emma immediately talk of something else, though she could not comprehend why he should be angry.

and receiving no other answer than a very plaintive-"Mr. and Miss Bates loved to be called on. Volume Two Chapter One Emma and Harriet had been walking together one morning. Knightley and some from her own heart.--but it burst out again when she thought she had succeeded. had been talking enough of Mr. the visitors were most cordially and even gratefully welcomed. and her more active. and Miss Bates. talking daughter. Woodhouse's health. for with all the high opinion of himself. She could not think that Harriet's solace or her own sins required more.To take a dislike to a young man. She determined to call upon them and seek safety in numbers. and sweet-cake from the beaufet--"Mrs. There was always sufficient reason for such an attention. Mrs. and had been so good as to sit an . who were calling on them for ever. which was every thing to them. only because he appeared to be of a different disposition from himself. Elton for that day. the quiet neat old lady. was unworthy the real liberality of mind which she was always used to acknowledge in him. The house belonged to people in business. as she proposed it to Harriet. as to her deficiency--but none were equal to counteract the persuasion of its being very disagreeable. as rather negligent in that respect. solicitude for their shoes. anxious inquiries after Mr. But now she made the sudden resolution of not passing their door without going in--observing. thanks for their visit. Cole had just been there. in Emma's opinion. and she was therefore industriously getting rid of the subject as they returned. and she knew she was considered by the very few who presumed ever to see imperfection in her. almost ready to overpower them with care and kindness. and Miss Bates occupied the drawing-room floor. that. and. cheerful communications about her mother's. which she had often laid to his charge. She had had many a hint from Mr. who with her knitting was seated in the warmest corner. and there. just called in for ten minutes. Elton is so good to the poor!" she found something else must be done.--a waste of time--tiresome women-and all the horror of being in danger of falling in with the second-rate and third-rate of Highbury. They were just approaching the house where lived Mrs. she had never before for a moment supposed it could make him unjust to the merit of another. and therefore she seldom went near them. they were just now quite safe from any letter from Jane Fairfax. wanting even to give up her place to Miss Woodhouse. and after speaking some time of what the poor must suffer in winter. in the very moderate-sized apartment. Mrs. and as not contributing what she ought to the stock of their scanty comforts. as well as she could calculate.

they must have the letter over again. because it is not her time for writing. but meant. and she had taken a piece of cake and been so kind as to say she liked it very much. she jumped away from him at last abruptly to the Coles. She had not been prepared to have Jane Fairfax succeed Mr. I was sure it could not be far off. talking of Jane. Elton." The mention of the Coles was sure to be followed by that of Mr. "Oh! yes--Mr. There was intimacy between them. and their card-parties. therefore. Cole was so kind as to sit some time with us. I hope she is well?" "Thank you. and Mr. you see.'" Emma's politeness was at hand directly. with smiling interest-"Have you heard from Miss Fairfax so lately? I am extremely happy. and settle how long he had been gone. Cole had heard from Mr. Whenever she is with us. having once talked him handsomely over. Elton. Cole was telling me that dancing at the rooms at Bath was-Mrs. and how full the Master of the Ceremonies' ball had been. `Have you. `well. I understand--certainly as to dancing-Mrs.' I do not know that I ever saw any body more surprized. upon your honour?' said she. with all the interest and all the commendation that could be requisite. and I must say that Jane deserves it as much as any body can.--"Oh! here it is. without being aware. that is quite unexpected. Do let me hear what she says. You are so kind!" replied the happily deceived aunt. This she had been prepared for when she entered the house. for as soon as she came in. to usher in a letter from her niece.hour with them. saying. Mrs. but I had it in my hand . Elton. but I had put my huswife upon it. and how much he was engaged in company. Jane is so very great a favourite there. `But indeed we have. we had a letter this very morning. but he was actually hurried off by Miss Bates. and she went through it very well. Elton since his going away. she began inquiring after her. Cole does not know how to shew her kindness enough. and. Emma knew what was coming. and to wander at large amongst all the Mistresses and Misses of Highbury. to be no farther incommoded by any troublesome topic. she hoped Miss Woodhouse and Miss Smith would do them the favour to eat a piece too. And so she began inquiring after her directly. to say. and what a favourite he was wherever he went. and so it was quite hid. while eagerly hunting for the letter. `I know you cannot have heard from Jane lately.' and when I immediately said. and always putting forward to prevent Harriet's being obliged to say a word.

My mother does not hear. and since she went away. now I think you will be put to it to make out all that checker-work'-don't you. "My mother's deafness is very trifling you see--just nothing at all. Hetty. she can see amazingly well still. though my mother's eyes are not so good as they were. highly gratified. when the letter is first opened. and Emma said something very civil about the excellence of Miss Fairfax's handwriting. and here it is. I was reading it to Mrs. she is a little deaf you know. for it is such a pleasure to her-a letter from Jane--that she can never hear it often enough. And. My mother often wonders that I can make it out so well.'" All this spoken extremely fast obliged Miss Bates to stop for breath. when she is here. grandmama. and saying any thing two or three times over. Ma'am. ma'am?--And then I tell her. she is sure to hear. only just under my huswife--and since you are so kind as to wish to hear what she says. if she had nobody to do it for her-every word of it--I am sure she would pore over it till she had made out every word. and had almost resolved on hurrying away directly under some slight excuse. Cole. upon the possibility. I am sure she would contrive to make it out herself. Jane often says. first of all. and write so beautifully yourself." replied Miss Bates. of making her escape from Jane Fairfax's letter. she will not find her grandmama . in the meanwhile. "you who are such a judge. in justice to Jane. By only raising my voice. She often says. indeed. `I am sure. without seeming very rude. It is such a blessing! My mother's are really very good indeed. I really must. `Well. But it is very remarkable that she should always hear Jane better than she does me. I am sure there is nobody's praise that could give us so much pleasure as Miss Woodhouse's.so very lately that I was almost sure it must be on the table. "do you hear what Miss Woodhouse is so obliging to say about Jane's handwriting?" And Emma had the advantage of hearing her own silly compliment repeated twice over before the good old lady could comprehend it. "You are extremely kind. She was pondering. when Miss Bates turned to her again and seized her attention. you must have had very strong eyes to see as you do--and so much fine work as you have done too!--I only wish my eyes may last me as well. so I knew it could not be far off. I was reading it again to my mother. Jane speaks so distinct! However. thank God! with the help of spectacles. but then she is used to my voice. apologise for her writing so short a letter--only two pages you see-hardly two--and in general she fills the whole paper and crosses half." addressing her.--but.

You are very kind.at all deafer than she was two years ago. Dixon. They had not intended to go over till the summer. so I imagined. I was going to say. because Colonel Campbell will be wanting the carriage himself one of those days. I fancy. we shall hardly know how to make enough of her now. The case is. So very good of them to send her the whole way! But they always do. Yes. which is saying a great deal at my mother's time of life--and it really is full two years. we should not have heard. but however different countries. Mrs. you know. We never were so long without seeing her before. positively. you know. That is what she writes about. and so she wrote a very urgent letter to her mother--or her father. as they can be to see her. last October. My mother is so delighted!--for she is to be three months with us at least. but we shall see presently in Jane's letter--wrote in Mr. a beautiful place. Cole. and as I was telling Mrs. that the Campbells are going to Ireland. as we call it. you know. and take them back to their country seat. as I am going to have the pleasure of reading to you. next week. Dixon's name as well as her own. Jane has heard a great deal of its beauty. Oh yes. since she was here." "Indeed!--that must be a very great pleasure. Every body is so surprized. Three months. Friday or Saturday next. from Mr. she cannot say which." "Are you expecting Miss Fairfax here soon?" "Oh yes. Baly-craig. of her being to come here so soon. for." "So obliging of you! No. but it was very natural. in the common course." "Thank you. I was afraid there could be little chance of my hearing any thing of Miss Fairfax to-day. we should not have heard from her before next Tuesday or Wednesday. Dixon has persuaded her father and mother to come over and see her directly. Yes. if it had not been for this particular circumstance. I declare I do not know which it was. that he should like to speak . which must make it very strange to be in different kingdoms. to press their coming over directly. next week. Friday or Saturday. she was never away from them so much as a week. and they would give them the meeting in Dublin. I am sure she will be as happy to see her friends at Highbury. and every body says the same obliging things. you see. she says so. but she is so impatient to see them again--for till she married. I mean-I do not know that she ever heard about it from any body else. That is the reason of her writing out of rule." "Yes.

an ingenious and animating suspicion entering Emma's brain with regard to Jane Fairfax. Dixon. and she. But you see. Campbell." At this moment." . Campbell were very particular about their daughter's not walking out often with only Mr. very true. just what they should recommend. by the sudden whirling round of something or other among the sails. "You must feel it very fortunate that Miss Fairfax should be allowed to come to you at such a time. would have been dashed into the sea at once. Jane says. He is a most charming young man. Mr. charming young man. for we should not have liked to have her at such a distance from us. Considering the very particular friendship between her and Mrs. from his account of things. every thing turns out for the best. Dixon. Bates?" "Yes--entirely her own doing. and actually was all but gone.of his own place while he was paying his addresses--and as Jane used to be very often walking out with them--for Colonel and Mrs. They want her (Mr. Dixon) excessively to come over with Colonel and Mrs. views that he had taken himself." "Very true. indeed. I believe. this charming Mr. with the insidious design of farther discovery. with the greatest presence of mind. and the not going to Ireland. you could hardly have expected her to be excused from accompanying Colonel and Mrs. He is a most amiable. caught hold of her habit-(I can never think of it without trembling!)--But ever since we had the history of that day. for months together--not able to come if any thing was to happen. and I think she wrote us word that he had shewn them some drawings of the place. Dixon!" "But. as you will hear presently. if he had not. Dixon. of course she heard every thing he might be telling Miss Campbell about his own home in Ireland. quite depend upon it. and Mrs. Campbell think she does quite right. in spite of all her friends' urgency. and indeed they particularly wish her to try her native air. nothing can be more kind or pressing than their joint invitation. I have been so fond of Mr. Miss Fairfax prefers devoting the time to you and Mrs. and Colonel and Mrs. for which I do not at all blame them. and her own wish of seeing Ireland. Campbell. Ever since the service he rendered Jane at Weymouth. The very thing that we have always been rather afraid of. as she has not been quite so well as usual lately. Dixon does not seem in the least backward in any attention. Jane was quite longing to go to Ireland. entirely her own choice. she said. when they were out in that party on the water.

because she would not alarm us. and looking very poorly. and try an air that always agrees with her. I always make a point of reading Jane's letters through to myself first. quite frightened. Miss Campbell always was absolutely plain--but extremely elegant and amiable. with `Bless me! poor Jane is ill!'-which my mother." "It appears to me the most desirable arrangement in the world. you know. Perry. But Mrs. for a cold to hang upon her? She never mentioned it before. what a flurry it has thrown me in! If it was not for the drawback of her illness--but I am afraid we must expect to see her grown thin. as we should do. than go to Ireland. I understand. and they have no doubt that three or four months at Highbury will entirely cure her-and it is certainly a great deal better that she should come here. as to that. if she is unwell. poor thing! so long ago as the 7th of November. and though he is so liberal. before I read them aloud to my mother. The expense shall not be thought of. and so fond of Jane that I dare say he would not mean to charge any thing for attendance." "Yes. and the Campbells leave town in their way to Holyhead the Monday following-as you will find from Jane's letter. (as I am going to read to you. she is so far from well. A long time." "Oh! no. Jane desired me to do it. but no sooner did I come to the mention of her being unwell.) and has never been well since. when I read on. Nobody could nurse her. Just like her! so considerate!--But however. we could not . heard distinctly. I think they judge wisely. So sudden!--You may guess. is not it. so I always do: and so I began to-day with my usual caution. we will call in Mr."I am concerned to hear of it. that of course. Mrs. Dixon must be very much disappointed. being on the watch. Dixon. that her kind friends the Campbells think she had better come home. There is no comparison between them. However. and I make so light of it now to her." "Jane caught a bad cold. is not. I must tell you what an unlucky thing happened to me. If Jane does not get well soon. You are very obliging to say such things--but certainly not. by any means." "And so she is to come to us next Friday or Saturday. that she does not think much about it. than I burst out. has no remarkable degree of personal beauty. dear Miss Woodhouse. But I cannot imagine how I could be so off my guard. and was sadly alarmed at. for fear of there being any thing in them to distress her. to be compared with Miss Fairfax. I found it was not near so bad as I had fancied at first.

I merely called. as he believed had saved his life. He has a wife and family to maintain. and is not to be giving away his time. we will turn to her letter. hope and interest. on losing her mother. however. to be engrafted on what nature had given her in a pleasing person. though she had in fact heard the whole substance of Jane Fairfax's letter. I had no intention. she became the property." "I am afraid we must be running away. and Miss Jane Bates. that though much had been forced on her against her will." said Emma. This was Colonel Campbell. glancing at Harriet. and beginning to rise--"My father will be expecting us. . By birth she belonged to Highbury: and when at three years old. Bates's youngest daughter. and I am sure she tells her own story a great deal better than I can tell it for her. had had its day of fame and pleasure. But the compassionate feelings of a friend of her father gave a change to her destiny. she had been able to escape the letter itself. and growing up with no advantages of connexion or improvement. as an excellent officer and most deserving young man. the fondling of her grandmother and aunt. we must wish you and Mrs. there had seemed every probability of her being permanently fixed there. during a severe camp-fever. Volume Two Chapter Two Jane Fairfax was an orphan. who had very highly regarded Fairfax. well-meaning relations. Bates good morning. She regained the street--happy in this." And not all that could be urged to detain her succeeded. when I first entered the house. the consolation. had been indebted to him for such attentions. but nothing now remained of it. Bates. of her being taught only what very limited means could command. but I have been so pleasantly detained! Now. the only child of Mrs. good understanding. because I would not pass the door without inquiring after Mrs. though some years passed away from the death of poor Fairfax. These were claims which he did not learn to overlook. I thought I had no power of staying more than five minutes. and warm-hearted. save the melancholy remembrance of him dying in action abroad--of his widow sinking under consumption and grief soon afterwards--and this girl. you know.suffer it to be so. Fairfax of the _______ regiment of infantry. The marriage of Lieut. and farther. the charge. Well. now I have just given you a hint of what Jane writes about.

and his own wish of being a real friend. for though his income. as far as such an early age can be qualified for the care of children. She had fallen into good hands. about Jane's age: and Jane became their guest. and had lived with them entirely. They continued together with unabated . and the daughter could not endure it. the very few hundred pounds which she inherited from her father making independence impossible. his fortune was moderate and must be all his daughter's. sharing. known nothing but kindness from the Campbells. and from that period Jane had belonged to Colonel Campbell's family. in all the rational pleasures of an elegant society. paying them long visits and growing a favourite with all. the sobering suggestions of her own good understanding to remind her that all this might soon be over. only visiting her grandmother from time to time. the warm attachment of Miss Campbell in particular. Neither father nor mother could promote. nor could her higher powers of mind be unfelt by the parents. The plan was that she should be brought up for educating others. and at eighteen or nineteen she was. as another daughter. and Jane remained with them. It was easy to decide that she was still too young. he hoped to be supplying the means of respectable subsistence hereafter. by the attendance of first-rate masters. her heart and understanding had received every advantage of discipline and culture. The affection of the whole family. united to produce an offer from Colonel Campbell of undertaking the whole charge of her education. To provide for her otherwise was out of Colonel Campbell's power. Her disposition and abilities were equally worthy of all that friendship could do. he sought out the child and took notice of her. but she was too much beloved to be parted with. and Colonel Campbell's residence being in London. Such was Jane Fairfax's history. was handsome. The evil day was put off. by giving her an education. That nature had given it in feature could not be unseen by the young woman. fully competent to the office of instruction herself.before his own return to England put any thing in his power. When he did return. It was accepted. with only one living child. and been given an excellent education. and before she was nine years old. by pay and appointments. but. with only the drawback of the future. and a judicious mixture of home and amusement. Living constantly with right-minded and well-informed people. every lighter talent had been done full justice to. was the more honourable to each party from the circumstance of Jane's decided superiority both in beauty and acquirements. a girl. his daughter's great fondness for her. He was a married man.

or treble. though she had now reached the age which her own judgment had fixed on for beginning. and spared her from a taste of such enjoyments of ease and leisure as must now be relinquished. who by that chance. had better be soon. perhaps. that luck which so often defies anticipation in matrimonial affairs. As long as they lived. and retire from all the pleasures of life.regard however. and was eligibly and happily settled. seemed. With regard to her not accompanying them to Ireland. Dixon. affection was glad to catch at any reasonable excuse for not hurrying on the wretched moment. whatever might be their motive or motives. gave the arrangement their ready sanction. This event had very lately taken place. for the recovery of her health. under the most favourable circumstances. Frank Churchill--must put up for . while Jane Fairfax had yet her bread to earn. equal society. She had never been quite well since the time of their daughter's marriage. they must forbid her engaging in duties. to penance and mortification for ever. though there might be some truths not told. rich and agreeable. of rational intercourse. too lately for any thing to be yet attempted by her less fortunate friend towards entering on her path of duty. and that Highbury. It was her own choice to give the time of their absence to Highbury. to spend. Perhaps they began to feel it might have been kinder and wiser to have resisted the temptation of any delay. almost as soon as they were acquainted. peace and hope. their home might be hers for ever. her last months of perfect liberty with those kind relations to whom she was so very dear: and the Campbells. which. and for their own comfort they would have retained her wholly. till the marriage of Miss Campbell. or double. engaged the affections of Mr. whether single. She had long resolved that one-and-twenty should be the period. and said. Campbell could not oppose such a resolution. though their feelings did. she had resolved at one-and-twenty to complete the sacrifice. Certain it was that she was to come. and till she should have completely recovered her usual strength. With the fortitude of a devoted novitiate. than on any thing else. Still. her account to her aunt contained nothing but truth. to require something more than human perfection of body and mind to be discharged with tolerable comfort. instead of welcoming that perfect novelty which had been so long promised it--Mr. so far from being compatible with a weakened frame and varying spirits. no exertions would be necessary. a young man. The good sense of Colonel and Mrs. that they depended more on a few months spent in her native air. however. giving attraction to what is moderate rather than to what is superior. but this would be selfishness:--what must be at last.

looking at Jane Fairfax with twofold complacency. she was particularly struck with the very appearance and manners. it was not regular.--to have to pay civilities to a person she did not like through three long months!--to be always doing more than she wished. and nobody could think very tall. of which elegance was the reigning character. there were moments of self-examination in which her conscience could not quite acquit her. had a clearness and delicacy which really needed no fuller bloom. when the due visit was paid. after a two years' interval. admire it:--elegance. Emma was sorry. in honour. and though the accusation had been eagerly refuted at the time. her aunt was such an eternal talker!--and she was made such a fuss with by every body!--and it had been always imagined that they were to be so intimate--because their ages were the same. There. remarkably elegant. But "she could never get acquainted with her: she did not know how it was. who could bring only the freshness of a two years' absence. which she had been used to cavil at. on her arrival. by all her principles. and merit. had never been denied their praise. and she had herself the highest value for elegance.the present with Jane Fairfax. Emma could not but feel all this. she sat. Mr. Her height was pretty. her figure particularly graceful. every body had supposed they must be so fond of each other. her face--her features-there was more beauty in them altogether than she had remembered. but there was such coldness and reserve-such apparent indifference whether she pleased or not--and then. just such as almost every body would think tall. which. but it was very pleasing beauty. a deep grey. during the first visit. not to be vulgar." These were her reasons-she had no better. was distinction. but the skin. Knightley had once told her it was because she saw in her the really accomplished young woman. which she wanted to be thought herself. and less than she ought! Why she did not like Jane Fairfax might be a difficult question to answer. her size a most becoming medium. though a slight appearance of ill-health seemed to point out the likeliest evil of the two. and as such. between fat and thin. as wanting colour. without feeling that she had injured her. whether of person or of mind. Jane Fairfax was very elegant. she saw so little in Highbury. It was a style of beauty. the sense of pleasure and the sense . with dark eye-lashes and eyebrows. and then. It was a dislike so little just--every imputed fault was so magnified by fancy. Her eyes. which for those two whole years she had been depreciating. that she never saw Jane Fairfax the first time after any considerable absence. and now. In short. she must.

She was. as made her look around in walking home. what she was going to sink from. as well as to see exhibitions of new caps and new workbags for her mother and herself. indeed. Dixon. and from the best. so cautious! There was no getting at her real opinion. which she had so naturally started to herself. it might be simple. The aunt was as tiresome as ever. it seemed impossible to feel any thing but compassion and respect. and every thing was relapsing much into its usual state. Dixon's actions from his wife. or of any thing mischievous which her imagination had suggested at first. In that case. charitable feelings. Knightley. Before she had committed herself by any public profession of eternal friendship for Jane Fairfax. and lament that Highbury afforded no young man worthy of giving her independence. nobody that she could wish to scheme about for her. Emma was obliged to play. the purest of motives. which was the worst of all. especially. when she considered what all this elegance was destined to. and resolving to divide herself effectually from him and his connexions by soon beginning her career of laborious duty. if to every well-known particular entitling her to interest. than saying to Mr. or done more towards a recantation of past prejudices and errors. more tiresome. were added the highly probable circumstance of an attachment to Mr. and they had to listen to the description of exactly how little bread and butter she ate for breakfast. These were charming feelings--but not lasting. and how small a slice of mutton for dinner. she seemed determined to hazard nothing. so cold. she is better than handsome!" Jane had spent an evening at Hartfield with her grandmother and aunt. Emma was very willing now to acquit her of having seduced Mr. as well as her beauty. Wrapt up in a cloak of politeness. They had music. an air of greatness. nothing could be more pitiable or more honourable than the sacrifices she had resolved on. Upon the whole. If it were love. Former provocations reappeared. was suspiciously reserved. because anxiety for her health was now added to admiration of her powers. single. and was determining that she would dislike her no longer. When she took in her history. meaning only to shew off in higher style her own very superior performance. how she was going to live. "She certainly is handsome. besides. successless love on her side alone. and the thanks and praise which necessarily followed appeared to her an affectation of candour. her situation. while a sharer of his conversation with her friend. Emma left her with such softened. . She might have been unconsciously sucking in the sad poison. She was disgustingly. and Jane's offences rose again.of rendering justice. might now be denying herself this visit to Ireland.

Emma saw its artifice. but not a syllable of real information could Emma procure as to what he truly was. and returned to her first surmises. sometimes with music and sometimes with conversation. I am sure Miss Fairfax must have found the evening pleasant. Mr." "Did he appear a sensible young man. it must have been a real indulgence. or in a common London acquaintance. "A very pleasant evening.--but as neither provocation nor resentment were discerned by Mr. or opinion of the suitableness of the match. it was difficult to decide on such points. nothing delineated or distinguished. Churchill." he began. I was glad you made her play so much. or her own value for his company. You left nothing undone. told that he understood. It was known that they were a little acquainted. Woodhouse had been talked into what was necessary. The like reserve prevailed on other topics. who had been of the party. "Was he handsome?"--"She believed he was reckoned a very fine young man. It was all general approbation and smoothness. She believed every body found his manners pleasing. and had seen only proper attention and pleasing behaviour on each side. for the sake of the future twelve thousand pounds. Emma. under a much longer knowledge than they had yet had of Mr." "Was he agreeable?"-"He was generally thought so." . had been very near changing one friend for the other. sir. and had now great pleasure in marking an improvement. Manners were all that could be safely judged of. not so openly as he might have done had her father been out of the room. Dixon's character. Knightley. she was more reserved on the subject of Weymouth and the Dixons than any thing. being at Hartfield again on business with Mr. Her caution was thrown away. but speaking plain enough to be very intelligible to Emma. It did her no service however.If any thing could be more. Woodhouse. She and Mr." Emma could not forgive her. She seemed bent on giving no real insight into Mr. You and Miss Fairfax gave us some very good music. or been fixed only to Miss Campbell. Volume Two Chapter Three Emma could not forgive her. a young man of information?"--"At a watering-place. for having no instrument at her grandmother's. perhaps. There probably was something more to conceal than her own preference. his approbation of the whole. I do not know a more luxurious state. as soon as Mr. Dixon. where all was most. and the papers swept away. than sitting at one's ease to be entertained a whole evening by two such young women. Frank Churchill had been at Weymouth at the same time.--"particularly pleasant. He had been used to think her unjust to Jane. he was expressing the next morning.

If any thing. but you will soon overcome all that part of her reserve which ought to be overcome. smiling. at least for the present. Woodhouse. I felt the fire rather too much. and Miss Jane Fairfax is a very pretty sort of young lady." "No. nearly at the same time. because she had Miss Fairfax. she is very agreeable." was his only answer. However. I was pleased with my own perseverance in asking questions. She must have found the evening agreeable. "you are not going to tell me. Knightley." said Mr. There is nobody half so attentive and civil as you are. and amused to think how little information I obtained. I think you understand me. I think it would have been enough. "I had." "My dear Emma." Emma saw his anxiety. as she always is. I do not see it. sir. therefore. Knightley. "that I am sure you are not. a very little. and Mrs."I am happy you approved. in his quiet way. and wishing to appease it. all that has its foundation in diffidence. "but I hope I am not often deficient in what is due to guests at Hartfield." said he." "You think her diffident. I hope." "I always told you she was--a little. "I hope every body had a pleasant evening." but she said only. but then I moved back my chair a little." said Emma. The muffin last night--if it had been handed round once. Once." said Mr. Bates too. though she speaks rather too quick. "Miss Fairfax is reserved." "Oh! no." "True. not often deficient either in manner or comprehension. and with a sincerity which no one could question-- . a very pretty and a very well-behaved young lady indeed." "No. Miss Bates was very chatty and good-humoured. "you are not often deficient. that you had not a pleasant evening. you are too attentive. and it did not disturb me. my dear. said." said her father instantly." "I am disappointed. in a different way. Mr. I like old friends. because she had Emma. and Emma. moving from his chair into one close by her." An arch look expressed--"I understand you well enough. What arises from discretion must be honoured.

" said Mr. whose thoughts were on the Bates's. you know."She is a sort of elegant creature that one cannot keep one's eyes from. I am always watching her to admire. They must not over-salt the leg. Mr. I have not been near Randalls. and I do pity her from my heart. Knightley presently. unless one could be sure of their making it into steaks. very right. Woodhouse. my dear Emma. without the smallest grease. it is very small and delicate--Hartfield pork is not like any other pork--but still it is pork--and. and that not another syllable of communication could rest with him. I sent the whole hind-quarter." when the door was thrown open. You like news--and I heard an article in my way hither that I think will interest you. and Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax walked into the room. I knew you would wish it. Knightley looked as if he were more gratified than he cared to express. There will be the leg to be salted. how are you this morning? My dear Miss Woodhouse-I come quite over-powered. What is it?--why do you smile so?--where did you hear it?--at Randalls?" He had time only to say. and Emma thinks of sending them a loin or a leg. said-"It is a great pity that their circumstances should be so confined! a great pity indeed! and I have often wished--but it is so little one can venture to do--small." "News! Oh! yes. just as Serle boils ours. and a little carrot or parsnip. I always like news. Miss Bates knew not which to give quickest. which is so very nice. trifling presents. and before he could make any reply. Such a beautiful hind-quarter of pork! . I do not consider it unwholesome. "No. my dear. but that is the best way. and then. if it is not over-salted. "I have a piece of news for you. with a boiled turnip. my dear?" "My dear papa. Knightley soon saw that he had lost his moment." "That's right. and not roast it. "Oh! my dear sir." "Emma. and if it is very thoroughly boiled. as ours are fried. and eaten very moderately of. of any thing uncommon-Now we have killed a porker. Mr. Full of thanks. nicely fried. and full of news." Mr. not at Randalls. for no stomach can bear roast pork--I think we had better send the leg-do not you think so. I had not thought of it before. and the loin to be dressed directly in any manner they like.

A Miss Hawkins--" "I was with Mr. and handed it to me directly. well--" . Jane?-for my mother was so afraid that we had not any salting-pan large enough. that Emma and I cannot have a greater pleasure than---" "Oh! my dear sir. at the sound. My dear sir. Woodhouse--"indeed it certainly is. had every thing they could wish for. and just then came the note. Cole on business an hour and a half ago." "Well! that is quite--I suppose there never was a piece of news more generally interesting. Cole told Mrs. "But where could you hear it?" cried Miss Bates. My mother desires her very best compliments and regards." said Mr. Knightley. Elton is going to be married.' said I--well. and a thousand thanks.' Well. our friends are only too good to us. Cole of it. she sat down and wrote to me. Knightley. A Miss Hawkins-that's all I know. without having great wealth themselves. and Patty has been washing the kitchen. and so you actually saw the letter. Cole's note--no. If ever there were people who.You are too bountiful! Have you heard the news? Mr. I am sure it is us. and says you really quite oppress her." replied Mr. "Where could you possibly hear it. and she was so completely surprized that she could not avoid a little start. But. Knightley. "There is my news:--I thought it would interest you. Mr. and a little blush. so very superior to all other pork. Mr. and Jane said. just ready to come out--I was only gone down to speak to Patty again about the pork--Jane was standing in the passage--were not you. you really are too bountiful. A Miss Hawkins of Bath.'--`Oh! my dear. how could you possibly have heard it? for the very moment Mr. He had just read Elton's letter as I was shewn in. Mr. `Shall I go down instead? for I think you have a little cold. it cannot be more than five-or at least ten--for I had got my bonnet and spencer on. with a smile which implied a conviction of some part of what had passed between them. We may well say that `our lot is cast in a goodly heritage. as my mother says. Elton." "We consider our Hartfield pork." Emma had not had time even to think of Mr. So I said I would go down and see. Knightley? For it is not five minutes since I received Mrs.

such very good people. but she does not hear quite quick. Woodhouse's observation. He fancied bathing might be good for it--the warm bath-but she says it did him no lasting benefit. exulting. is quite our angel." Jane's curiosity did not appear of that absorbing nature as wholly to occupy her. as soon as she could speak. Knightley `no."It was short--merely to announce--but cheerful. "He had been so fortunate as to-I forget the precise words--one has no business to remember them.--I dare say. It is such a happiness when good people get together--and they always do. you know. "He had better not be in a hurry. Miss Woodhouse!" said Miss Bates." "He is very young to settle. He is the very best young man--But. as you state. and the Perrys--I suppose there never was a happier or a better couple than Mr. I say. Woodhouse. "He will have every body's wishes for his happiness. Elton!--no wonder that you have such a curiosity to see him. and there are the Coles. Perry. Miss Hawkins. indeed. for my mother is a little deaf. By his style.' and Miss Bates and I that he is just the happy medium. And Mr. "is he--is he a tall man?" "Who shall answer that question?" cried Emma. "My father would say `yes. He seemed to me very well off as he was. of course." turning to Mr. and Mrs. Jane says that Colonel Campbell is a little deaf. an excellent young woman. here will be Mr." "A new neighbour for us all. Elton going to be married!" said Emma. you will understand that Mr. Miss Woodhouse. you know--it is not much. "my mother is so pleased!--she says she cannot bear to have the poor old Vicarage without a mistress. . sir. Elton. The information was. Dixon seems a very charming young man. Elton is the standard of perfection in Highbury." "Very true. so she will." was Mr. both in person and mind. if you remember."-Here was a sly glance at Emma. I should imagine it just settled. When you have been here a little longer. His extreme attention to my mother-wanting her to sit in the vicarage pew. I told you yesterday he was precisely the height of Mr. This is great news. that she might hear the better. that he was going to be married to a Miss Hawkins. Now. "No--I have never seen Mr. starting on this appeal.' Mr. quite worthy of him. Colonel Campbell. you have never seen Mr. Perry. my dear Jane. joyfully." she replied. Jane. Elton and Miss Hawkins. Miss Fairfax." "Mr. We were always glad to see him at Hartfield.

John Knightley lately? Oh! those dear little children. Elton is a most worthy young man--but'--In short. I see. Mr. we are quite blessed in our neighbours. or what Miss Hawkins is. I always say. And as it is some months since Miss Campbell married. if there is one thing my mother loves better than another. How does Miss Smith do? She seems quite recovered now. Emma said. there is no likeness at all. he has been gone just four weeks." said Emma. do you know I always fancy Mr." "When I have seen Mr. it is pork-a roast loin of pork--" "As to who. Dixon. Elton. One feels that it cannot be a very long acquaintance. Have you heard from Mrs. you say. and runs away with it." "Very odd! but one never does form a just idea of any body beforehand. Elton and Miss Hawkins. "four weeks yesterday. He has been gone only four weeks. Miss Woodhouse. Cole once whispered to me--but I immediately said. I do not think I am particularly quick at those sort of discoveries. One takes up a notion. is not. and. What is before me. At the same time. I do not pretend to it. so good-humouredly.--A Miss Hawkins!--Well. after a few more wonderings." Nobody had any information to give. nobody could wonder if Mr. as you observe." replied Jane. strictly speaking. Mr. my dear aunt. not that I ever--Mrs. Miss Fairfax--but I hope you mean to take an interest in this news. "nothing I suppose can be known. Jane." "Yes.--My dear sir. or how long he has been acquainted with her. You. I had always rather fancied it would be some young lady hereabouts. who have been hearing and seeing so much of late on these subjects."I think there are few places with such society as Highbury. I mean in person--tall. "You are silent. " I dare say I shall be interested--but I believe it requires that with me. handsome?" ." said Miss Bates. `No. John Knightley. who must have been so deep in the business on Miss Campbell's account--we shall not excuse your being indifferent about Mr. and with that sort of look--and not very talkative. the impression may be a little worn off. Dixon like Mr. She knows I would not offend for the world." "Quite wrong. Elton should have aspired--Miss Woodhouse lets me chatter on.

Well. but short. I always think a person well-looking. agitated look which hurrying thither with a full heart was likely to give. and the "Oh! Miss Woodhouse. If she were to meet Miss Bates in her way!--and upon its beginning to rain. Jane. Where I have a regard. my dear Jane. alone with her father. you said that Miss Campbell would not allow him to be plain. my dear Miss Woodhouse. Goddard. Thank you. and Harriet. I shall just go round by Mrs. This has been a most agreeable piece of news indeed. The weather does not look well. my judgment is worth nothing. and it had not been over five minutes. by giving the first information herself. I shall not attempt calling on Mrs. we do indeed. You are too obliging." "Well. Elton. what do you think has happened!" which instantly burst forth. had all the evidence of corresponding perturbation. Cole's." Emma." "My dear. It was to herself an amusing and a very welcome piece of news. Emma felt that she could not now shew greater kindness than in listening. but we really must take leave. you will be so kind as to give her your arm. I believe we must be running away. but I shall not stop three minutes: and. Oh! Mr. As the blow was given. you had better go home directly--I would not have you out in a shower!--We think she is the better for Highbury already. my dear sir. It was now about the time that she was likely to call. Emma was obliged to expect that the weather would be detaining her at Mrs.--Mr. for I really do not think she cares for any thing but boiled pork: when we dress the leg it will be another thing. when I called him plain. as proving that Mr. Knightley is coming too. The shower was heavy. Good morning to you. and that the intelligence would undoubtedly rush upon her without preparation. and grandmama will be uneasy. and that you yourself--" "Oh! as for me."Handsome! Oh! no--far from it--certainly plain. unchecked. to save her from hearing it abruptly from others. that is so very!--I am sure if Jane is tired. with just the heated. Goddard's. Elton could not have suffered long. I told you he was plain. and Miss Hawkins!--Good morning to you. when in came Harriet. but she was sorry for Harriet: Harriet must feel it--and all that she could hope was. ran eagerly . But I gave what I believed the general opinion. had half her attention wanted by him while he lamented that young people would be in such a hurry to marry-and to marry strangers too--and the other half she could give to her own view of the subject.

and so off I set. I am sure she saw me. and I must go. soon after she came out it began to rain. however."--Ford's was the principal woollen-draper. who should come in-to be sure it was so very odd!--but they always dealt at Ford's-who should come in.through what she had to tell. for instead of going on with her buyings. he looked round and saw me. and though she did not seem to stay half a moment there. she seemed to try to be very friendly. as fast as she could. if I would. linen-draper. when he came after me. I am sure they were talking of me. you know. Miss Woodhouse. Goddard's half an hour ago--she had been afraid it would rain--she had been afraid it would pour down every moment--but she thought she might get to Hartfield first--she had hurried on as fast as possible. and I could not help thinking that he was persuading her to speak to me--(do you think he was. I was absolutely miserable! By that time. I could see she was altered. and so he came and spoke. as she was passing by the house where a young woman was making up a gown for her. Miss Woodhouse?)--for presently she came forward--came quite up to me. I fancy.--"And so. it was beginning to hold up. but then. and said it did not rain. one can't tell how. I could not go away you know. only to say. and she did not know what to do. and as if he did not quite know what to do. but I did so wish myself anywhere in the world but there. I was sitting near the door--Elizabeth saw me directly. full ten minutes. and took shelter at Ford's. they began whispering to one another. and they both went to quite the farther end of the shop. and haberdasher's shop united. "She had set out from Mrs. and took no notice. Miss Woodhouse--well.--Oh! dear. she thought she would just step in and see how it went on. but Elizabeth Martin and her brother!-Dear Miss Woodhouse! only think. because of the rain. feeling dreadfully. and I had not got three yards from the door. at last. and I answered--and I stood for a minute. but. but I know no more what I said--I was in such a tremble!--I remember she said she was sorry we never met now. and I kept sitting near the door!--Oh! dear. if I was going to Hartfield. and stood talking some time. there she had set. and then I took courage. She did not do any of it in the same way that she used. without an idea of any thing in the world. I did not know what to do. and seemed ready to shake hands. perhaps--when. the shop first in size and fashion in the place. he was busy with the umbrella. I thought I should have fainted. and we shook hands. which I thought almost too kind! Dear. and I was determined that nothing should stop me from getting away--and then--only think!-I found he was coming up towards me too--slowly you know. but she looked away directly. all of a sudden. so she ran on directly. but he did not. he thought I had much better go round . and asked me how I did. I was so miserable! I am sure I must have been as white as my gown.

and I came round by the stables--I believe I did--but I hardly knew where I was. gradually revived. however. as a first meeting. but it was not immediately in her power. But she had believed them to be well-meaning. and quite unworthy of being dwelt on. Elton's rights. and she could not but pity them. which she had meant to give with so much tender caution. Oh! Miss Woodhouse. for I should find the near way quite floated by this rain. and what difference did this make in the evils of the connexion? It was folly to be disturbed by it. and Emma. as well as love. and then he went back to Elizabeth. I thought it would have been the death of me! So I said. what was the value of Harriet's description?--So easily pleased--so little discerning. Cole's stables." Very sincerely did Emma wish to do so. "but you seem to have behaved extremely well. "very true. I was very much obliged to him: you know I could not do less." said she. She was not thoroughly comfortable herself. "It might be distressing. She was obliged to stop and think. Elton's importance with her! Mr. had probably been mortified. As Harriet described it. . Oh! dear. and it is over--and may never-can never. ashamed or only amused. Oh! Miss Woodhouse. occur again. do talk to me and make me comfortable again. was obliged to hurry on the news. hardly knowing herself whether to rejoice or be angry. there had been an interesting mixture of wounded affection and genuine delicacy in their behaviour. at last. he must be sorry to lose her--they must be all sorry." and she "would not think about it.by Mr.-what signified her praise? She exerted herself. I would rather done any thing than have it happen: and yet. and therefore you need not think about it. Of course. And Elizabeth. you know. seemed the result of real feeling. at such a state of mind in poor Harriet--such a conclusion of Mr. there was a sort of satisfaction in seeing him behave so pleasantly and so kindly. and did try to make her comfortable." Harriet said. Ambition." but still she talked of it--still she could talk of nothing else. and his sister's. too. or any thing about it. in order to put the Martins out of her head. by considering all that had passed as a mere trifle. They might all have hoped to rise by Harriet's acquaintance: and besides. worthy people before. The young man's conduct. for the moment. Though she did not feel the first intelligence as she might have done the day before.

and circulate the fame of her merits. or even any power of speech. of course. he had not thrown himself away--he had gained a woman of 10. without seeking her. and perfectly amiable: and when Mr. which could conduce to place the Martins under proper subordination in her fancy. was in possession of an independent fortune.or an hour before. pain and pleasure. as to this fortunate Miss Hawkins. discovered to have every recommendation of person and mind. to the first. but finding himself debased to the level of a very wrong one. by some means or other. Emma learned to be rather glad that there had been such a meeting. in addition to all the usual advantages of perfect beauty and merit. where hitherto they had wanted either the courage or the condescension to seek her. Goddard's. The charming Augusta Hawkins. than to tell her Christian name. after a series of what appeared to him strong encouragement. eager and busy. is sure of being kindly spoken of. Volume Two Chapter Four Human nature is so well disposed towards those who are in interesting situations. A week had not passed since Miss Hawkins's name was first mentioned in Highbury. as under such circumstances what is gained always is to what is lost. she had talked herself into all the sensations of curiosity. elegant. He had gone away deeply offended--he came back engaged to another--and to another as superior. the Martins could not get at her.000 l. It had been serviceable in deadening the first shock. as well as some convenience: the story told well. and say whose music she principally played. As Harriet now lived. a very happy man. caring nothing for Miss Woodhouse. or thereabouts. there was very little more for him to do. and not only losing the right lady. and before their first conversation was over. and defying Miss Smith. before she was. for since her refusal of the brother. with any necessity. its interest soon increased. without retaining any influence to alarm. the sisters never had been at Mrs. He had gone away rejected and mortified--disappointed in a very sanguine hope. wonder and regret. who either marries or dies. and he had gained her with such delightful rapidity-the first hour of introduction had been so very soon followed by . and a twelvemonth might pass without their being thrown together again. He came back gay and self-satisfied. highly accomplished. a point of some dignity. that a young person. Mr. of so many thousands as would always be called ten. Elton returned. Elton himself arrived to triumph in his happy prospects. to be handsome.

and his welfare twenty miles off would administer most satisfaction. she would have been thankful to be assured of never seeing him again. no doubt. in fact. that when he next entered Highbury he would bring his bride. Many vain solicitudes would be prevented-many awkwardnesses smoothed by it. Emma thought very little. as a penance. to the dinner at Mr. Emma had barely seen him. A Mrs. the history which he had to give Mrs. he had done nothing. She was. however. with cordial. probably. beginning very much to wonder that she had ever thought him pleasing at all. to whom. there Emma was perfectly easy.distinguishing notice. As to connexion. and his sight was so inseparably connected with some very disagreeable feelings. that after all his own vaunted claims and disdain of Harriet. that. fearless smiles. The pain of his continued residence in Highbury. as the parties had only themselves to please. and nothing but the necessary preparations to wait for. Of the lady. Elton. from the accidental rencontre. On that article. and was just the happy man he ought to be. Cole's did not seem to contradict. During his present short stay. talking only of himself and his own concerns--expecting to be congratulated--ready to be laughed at--and. which a certain glance of Mrs. former intimacy might sink without remark. that vanity and prudence were equally contented. to use a most intelligible phrase. a few weeks ago. He had caught both substance and shadow--both fortune and affection. a lesson. accomplished enough for Highbury-handsome enough--to look plain. but he gave her pain. Green's. he would have been more cautiously gallant. and when he set out for Bath again. Brown's--smiles and blushes rising in importance-with consciousness and agitation richly scattered--the lady had been so easily impressed--so sweetly disposed--had in short. a source of profitable humiliation to her own mind. now addressing all the young ladies of the place. except in a moral light. been so very ready to have him. by Harriet's side. persuaded. now spread over his air. The wedding was no distant event. She wished him very well. . individually. She was good enough for Mr. Cole of the rise and progress of the affair was so glorious--the steps so quick. there was a general expectation. Elton would be an excuse for any change of intercourse. It would be almost beginning their life of civility again. and the party at Mrs. truth seemed attainable. and to give her the impression of his not being improved by the mixture of pique and pretension. but just enough to feel that the first meeting was over. must certainly be lessened by his marriage.

being all in proof of how much he was in love! . who. but Bristol was her home. and every report. would cure her. every guess--all that had already occurred. how much he seemed attached!-his air as he walked by the house--the very sitting of his hat. but. who was very well married. alas! she was not so easily to be talked out of it. and setting aside the 10. She brought no name. and too stupid to rise. having once begun. Part of every winter she had been used to spend in Bath. therefore. must be uncertain. and furniture. than that he was in the law line. and found nothing so interesting as the discussion of his concerns. in all the favouring warmth of surprize and conjecture. he certainly would indeed.000 l. but nothing else. moreover. for though the father and mother had died some years ago. And now. or just to miss him. comprehending income. Elton. that was the glory of Miss Hawkins. an uncle remained-in the law line--nothing more distinctly honourable was hazarded of him. might be found out. who kept two carriages! That was the wind-up of the history. She was always having a glimpse of him somewhere or other. but. to a gentleman in a great way. He might be superseded by another. for. it did not appear that she was at all Harriet's superior. all that might occur in the arrangement of his affairs.What she was. she feared. excepting when at Hartfield. and feelings irritated by ceaseless repetitions of Miss Hawkins's happiness. just to hear his voice. he must be called. no blood. or see his shoulder. Her regard was receiving strength by invariable praise of him. was continually in agitation around her. it was not unfair to guess the dignity of his line of trade had been very moderate also. Emma guessed him to be the drudge of some attorney. perpetually hearing about him. Miss Hawkins was the youngest of the two daughters of a Bristol-merchant. no alliance. She was.. poor girl! she was considerably worse from this reappearance of Mr. Elton. would be always in love. servants. and her regrets kept alive. even a Robert Martin would have been sufficient. as the whole of the profits of his mercantile life appeared so very moderate. nothing could be clearer. The charm of an object to occupy the many vacancies of Harriet's mind was not to be talked away. she was always among those who saw no fault in Mr. the very heart of Bristol. Emma saw him only once. and continual observation of. And all the grandeur of the connexion seemed dependent on the elder sister. but who she was. and with him the daughter had lived. Harriet was one of those. just to have something occur to preserve him in her fancy. Could she but have given Harriet her feelings about it all! She had talked her into love. of course. near Bristol. but two or three times every day Harriet was sure just to meet with him.

. when invited to come. and give the most decided proof of what degree of intimacy was chosen for the future. should convince them that it was to be only a formal acquaintance. and each was occasionally useful as a check to the other. than Harriet's returning the visit. Bath. was consequently a blank. directed to The Rev. continually pondering over what could be done in return. while she drove a little farther. to dissipate some of the distress it occasioned. or reproach to herself. she could determine on nothing better. The unhappiness produced by the knowledge of that engagement had been a little put aside by Elizabeth Martin's calling at Mrs. It must not be: and yet the danger of a renewal of the acquaintance!-After much thinking. at that moment. had driven away all such cares. Goddard's. Philip Elton. and on the very morning of his setting off for Bath again. Elton. Mr. with a great deal of kindness. She meant to take her in the carriage. Absolute neglect of the mother and sisters. as to allow no time for insidious applications or dangerous recurrences to the past. Goddard's a few days afterwards. and call for her again so soon. had been a point of some doubtful consideration. and every thing in this world. and till Mr. While he staid. Harriet had not been at home. but in a way that. if they had understanding.Had it been allowable entertainment. was to be seen under the operation of being lifted into the butcher's cart. a trunk. would be ingratitude. Elton himself appeared. Elton's engagement had been the cure of the agitation of meeting Mr. judged it best for her to return Elizabeth Martin's visit. leave her at the Abbey Mill. How that visit was to be acknowledged--what would be necessary-and what might be safest. had there been no pain to her friend. But Mr. which was to convey it to where the coaches past. in the waverings of Harriet's mind. Emma would have been amused by its variations. merely glossed over--it must be done. but a note had been prepared and left for her. or what would become of Harriet? Volume Two Chapter Five Small heart had Harriet for visiting. written in the very style to touch. Martin. in person. her evil stars had led her to the very spot where. She could think of nothing better: and though there was something in it which her own heart could not approve--something of ingratitude. Emma. a small mixture of reproach. and wishing to do more than she dared to confess. Sometimes Mr. excepting that trunk and the direction. Only half an hour before her friend called for her at Mrs. sometimes the Martins. the Martins were forgotten. she had been much occupied by it. Elton predominated. White-Hart.

was beginning to revive a little local agitation. Harriet could not very soon give an intelligible account. which led between espalier apple-trees to the front door. and the sort of pain it was creating. the party. and when they reached the farm. Emma observed her to be looking around with a sort of fearful curiosity. The style of the visit. There were the pencilled marks and memorandums on the wainscot by the window. to give that portion of time to an old servant who was married. She had seen only Mrs. and resolved on going home by way of Randalls . (Harriet. however. They had received her doubtingly. They all seemed to remember the day. and unattended by any alarming young man. It was a bad business. how naturally Harriet must suffer. if not coolly. He had done it. and a warmer manner. but there was a great deal of pain in the process-so much to herself at this time. that a little higher should have been enough: but as it was. Fourteen minutes to be given to those with whom she had thankfully passed six weeks not six months ago!--Emma could not but picture it all. and feel how justly they might resent. the hour. Martin's saying.She went. and they were just growing again like themselves. to have had the Martins in a higher rank of life. the same regrets--to be ready to return to the same good understanding. or endured a great deal. the sight of every thing which had given her so much pleasure the autumn before. was with her without delay. the occasion--to feel the same consciousness. as ready as the best of them to be cordial and happy. and all was over. She would have given a great deal. The quarter of an hour brought her punctually to the white gate again. Martin and the two girls. that she soon felt the necessity of a little consolation.) when the carriage reappeared. how could she have done otherwise?--Impossible!--She could not repent. but at last Emma collected from her enough to understand the sort of meeting. She was feeling too much. and parting with her seemingly with ceremonious civility. with her two friends. at the end of the broad. They must be separated. She went on herself. were then felt to be decisive. and the shortness of it. and Miss Smith receiving her summons. and nothing beyond the merest commonplace had been talked almost all the time-till just at last. when Mrs. She came solitarily down the gravel walk--a Miss Martin just appearing at the door. that she thought Miss Smith was grown. all of a sudden. and settled in Donwell. In that very room she had been measured last September. and when they parted. which determined her not to allow the visit to exceed the proposed quarter of an hour. as Emma must suspect. had brought on a more interesting subject. They were so deserving. neat gravel walk. and she was to be put down.

she hoped Mr. "And now we shall just miss them. and he comes for a whole fortnight. it was stopt by Mr. If he had come at Christmas he could not have staid three days." they had both been out some time. and in the rapidity of half a moment's thought. and sincerely did she rejoice in their joy. but on driving to the door they heard that neither "master nor mistress was at home. confirmed as it all was by the words and the countenance of his wife. "I shall soon bring him over to Hartfield. It was a most delightful reanimation of exhausted spirits. Weston's. "This is too bad. settled weather. Presently the carriage stopt. It was a good scheme. The worn-out past was sunk in the freshness of what was coming. Her mind was quite sick of Mr. Frank comes to-morrow--I had a letter this morning--we see him to-morrow by dinner-time to a certainty-he is at Oxford to-day. who were standing to speak to her. Weston gave her the history of the engagements at Enscombe. or to reason them away. the man believed they were gone to Hartfield. Elton would now be talked of no more. she looked up. There was instant pleasure in the sight of them. too provoking!--I do not know when I have been so disappointed. Mr. I knew it would be so. and she listened. fine. "How d'ye do?--how d'ye do?--We have been sitting with your father-glad to see him so well. Elton and the Martins. and smiled. and congratulated. and Mrs. probably a little of both-such being the commonest process of a not ill-disposed mind." And she leaned back in the corner. dry. and still greater pleasure was conveyed in sound--for Mr. Weston. To know that she thought his coming certain was enough to make Emma consider it so. Weston immediately accosted her with. as well as the route and the method of his journey. The refreshment of Randalls was absolutely necessary. every thing has turned out exactly as we could wish. which allowed his son to answer for having an entire fortnight at his command.to procure it. We shall enjoy him completely. I was always glad he did not come at Christmas. no possibility of avoiding the influence of such a happy face as Mr." said he. now we are going to have just the right weather for him. but not less to the purpose. as they turned away. fewer and quieter. at the conclusion." cried Emma. to indulge her murmurs. ." There was no resisting such news.

"'Tis twelve. and answer in a manner that appropriated nothing. "we are detaining the girls. or eleven. Frank Churchill pass through Bath as well as Oxford?"-was a question. I see you now in all your little fidgets. in mental soliloquy. to be sure that all is right. I dare say he is really nothing extraordinary:"-though his own sparkling eyes at the moment were speaking a very different conviction. a tender smile even there. perhaps. about four o'clock. however. which did not augur much. Weston's quick amendment. and when she turned round to Harriet. Weston's parting injunction. The morning of the interesting day arrived. from his wife. But neither geography nor tranquillity could come all at once. "but you must not be expecting such a very fine young man. that she was to think of her at four." The clock struck twelve as she passed through the hall. my dear Emma. going again and again into his room. well. while walking downstairs from her own room." said she. "We had better move on. "always overcareful for every body's comfort but your own. "My dear. every thing wore a different air. When she looked at the hedges. spoken with some anxiety. Emma could look perfectly unconscious and innocent." "Well." was Mrs. or a little later. she saw something like a look of spring. I shall not forget to think of you four hours hence. she thought the elder at least must soon be coming out.Emma could imagine she saw a touch of the arm at this speech. "Four o'clock!--depend upon it he will be here by three."--said she. Weston. James and his horses seemed not half so sluggish as before. dear anxious friend. "Think of me to-morrow. Weston's faithful pupil did not forget either at ten."--and turning again to Emma. or twelve o'clock. and Emma was now in a humour to resolve that they should both come in time. I am ready." was Mr. and meant only for her. Mr. "Will Mr. and by this time to-morrow. you have only had my account you know. Emma's spirits were mounted quite up to happiness. . and so ended a most satisfactory meeting. and Mrs.

Weston with exultation. later. I am sure they will bring him soon. so high in interest. he was a very good looking young man. and quicker. Weston and his son." cried Mr. Emma was directly sure that he knew how to make himself agreeable. "I told you all that he would be here before the time named. and his countenance had a great deal of the spirit and liveliness of his father's. introduction. and professed himself to have always felt the sort of interest in the country which none but one's own country gives. that he might gain half a day. The Frank Churchill so long talked of. and there was a well-bred ease of manner. and Mr. all were unexceptionable. Hartfield still more. and the pleasure of coming in upon one's friends before the look-out begins. the conviction was strengthened by what followed. They had been arrived only a few minutes. Highbury itself. air." She opened the parlour door. and saw two gentlemen sitting with her father--Mr. passed suspiciously . One cannot creep upon a journey. She felt immediately that she should like him." said the young man. he looked quick and sensible. but in coming home I felt I might do any thing. and a readiness to talk. which convinced her that he came intending to be acquainted with her. She was pleased with the eagerness to arrive which had made him alter his plan.I may be thinking of the possibility of their all calling here." "It is a great pleasure where one can indulge in it. and pleasure. He was very much pleased with Randalls. That he should never have been able to indulge so amiable a feeling before. was actually before her--he was presented to her. when she appeared. He had reached Randalls the evening before. would hardly allow it even to be very small. and the greatest curiosity to visit it. and her father was yet in the midst of his very civil welcome and congratulations. "I told you yesterday. the walk to Highbury. and that acquainted they soon must be. I remembered what I used to do myself. to have her share of surprize. one cannot help getting on faster than one has planned. and travel earlier. and she did not think too much had been said in his praise. is worth a great deal more than any little exertion it needs." The word home made his father look on him with fresh complacency. Weston had scarcely finished his explanation of Frank's being a day before his time. thought it a most admirably arranged house. admired the situation. address. height. "though there are not many houses that I should presume on so far.

Weston. he could be sure of little else." . and pleasantly handled. afforded society enough?--There were several very pretty houses in and about it. He did not advance a word of praise beyond what she knew to be thoroughly deserved by Mrs. On his side were the inquiries. if it were a falsehood.--Balls--had they balls?--Was it a musical society?" But when satisfied on all these points. Their subjects in general were such as belong to an opening acquaintance. considering every thing. "had been the wisest measure. His manner had no air of study or exaggeration. Weston for my feelings. "but I confess that. but she would be ready to quarrel with you for using such words. and their acquaintance proportionably advanced. I had not expected more than a very tolerably well-looking woman of a certain age. "were you to guess her to be eighteen. he wound it all up with astonishment at the youth and beauty of her person. I was prepared for.through Emma's brain. agreeable manners. "Elegant." "You cannot see too much perfection in Mrs." he said. than Miss Woodhouse Miss Taylor's." He got as near as he could to thanking her for Miss Taylor's merits. and her very kind reception of himself. every friend must rejoice in it. while their two fathers were engaged with each other. He did really look and speak as if in a state of no common enjoyment. as if resolved to qualify his opinion completely for travelling round to its object. and the family from whom he had received such a blessing must be ever considered as having conferred the highest obligation on him. but still. I should listen with pleasure. And at last. He understood what would be welcome. "His father's marriage. as was an additional proof of his knowing how to please-and of his certainly thinking it worth while to try to please her. Don't let her imagine that you have spoken of her as a pretty young woman. Weston. so much gratitude for the happiness she secured to his father. perhaps. so much warm admiration. I did not know that I was to find a pretty young woman in Mrs. of introducing his mother-in-law.--"Was she a horsewoman?--Pleasant rides?-Pleasant walks?--Had they a large neighbourhood?--Highbury. he contrived to find an opportunity." said he. and speaking of her with so much handsome praise. undoubtedly he could know very little of the matter. but." said Emma. it was a pleasant one. without seeming quite to forget that in the common course of things it was to be rather supposed that Miss Taylor had formed Miss Woodhouse's character.

Happily he was not farther from approving matrimony than from foreseeing it. Her own father's perfect exemption from any thought of the kind. He had business at the Crown about his hay. the entire deficiency in him of all such sort of penetration or suspicion. and whether his compliments were to be considered as marks of acquiescence. rose immediately also. or proofs of defiance. (with a gallant bow. without the drawback of a single unpleasant surmise."I hope I should know better.) a lady residing in or near Highbury. sir.--"He must be going. and even. and a great many errands for Mrs. and express very genuine unmixed anxiety to know that he had certainly escaped catching cold--which. which had taken strong possession of her mind. was a most comfortable circumstance. .-Though always objecting to every marriage that was arranged. Weston was often thinking about. had ever crossed his. "As you are going farther on business. Mr. Weston began to move. She must see more of him to understand his ways. through the sad evils of sleeping two nights on the road. which must be paid some day or other. however. She had no doubt of what Mr." His son." Emma wondered whether the same suspicion of what might be expected from their knowing each other. She blessed the favouring blindness. she was confident that he was often listening. he never suffered beforehand from the apprehension of any. and therefore may as well be paid now. it seemed as if he could not think so ill of any two persons' understanding as to suppose they meant to marry till it were proved against them. without a glance forward at any possible treachery in his guest. "no." he replied. but he need not hurry any body else. Weston at Ford's. He could now. A reasonable visit paid. give way to all his natural kind-hearted civility in solicitous inquiries after Mr. a family of the name of Fairfax. Weston I should understand whom I might praise without any danger of being thought extravagant in my terms. (turning to Emma. saying. he could not allow him to feel quite assured of himself till after another night. His quick eye she detected again and again glancing towards them with a happy expression. I have the honour of being acquainted with a neighbour of yours. at present she only felt they were agreeable. I will take the opportunity of paying a visit. Frank Churchill's accommodation on his journey. too well bred to hear the hint.) that in addressing Mrs. depend upon it. when he might have determined not to look.

is not the proper name--I should rather say Barnes. I believe. I must give you a hint. upon no account in the world. you are acquainted with Miss Fairfax. sir. I have known them all my life. And. Do not defer it. "I have heard her speak of the acquaintance. I am afraid you will not hear her at all. Call upon her. in finding the house. If you do not call early it will be a slight. but there was that degree of acquaintance at Weymouth which--" "Oh! go to-day. Do you know any family of that name?" "To be sure we do.I shall have no difficulty. who has barely enough to live on. Bates--we passed her house-I saw Miss Bates at the window. "I think you will to-day. Frank. see her and hear her--no. go to-day." as inclined her almost to doubt his real concurrence. "another day would do as well. and a fine girl she is." cried his father." . very worthy people." "There is no necessity for my calling this morning. They will be extremely glad to see you. any want of attention to her here should be carefully avoided. You saw her with the Campbells. She is staying here on a visit to her grandmama and aunt. if Jane Fairfax could be thought only ordinarily gifted with it. and yet there must be a very distinct sort of elegance for the fashionable world. besides. You will see her to advantage. True. "Mrs." He agreed to it. but here she is with a poor old grandmother. Woodhouse. my father can direct me." said the young man." "My dear sir. "then give me leave to assure you that you will find her a very agreeable young lady. I suppose." "You are acquainted with Miss Jane Fairfax. I am sure. "she is a very elegant young woman." The son looked convinced. are you?" said Mr. when she was the equal of every body she mixed with. always the last to make his way in conversation. by all means. though Fairfax. What is right to be done cannot be done too soon." said she. but with so quiet a "Yes." said Emma. and one of my servants shall go with you to shew you the way. or Bates. "If you were never particularly struck by her manners before. I remember you knew her at Weymouth. true. for she has an aunt who never holds her tongue.

to whom and to Highbury he seemed to take very cordially. he should always chuse the same. this is quite unnecessary. Frank Churchill still declined it. therefore. . He came with Mrs. and his father gave his hearty support by calling out. with Mrs. and there are a great many houses. would be his constant attraction." Mr. most companionably at home. she became perfectly satisfied. to perceive them walking up to the house together. Emma had hardly expected them: for Mr. with full confidence in their comfort. Frank Churchill again. and jump. you might be very much at a loss." They were permitted to go alone. "My good friend. And there was time enough for Emma to form a reasonable judgment. nothing should make amends for it. cheerful. Volume Two Chapter Six The next morning brought Mr. and a graceful bow from the other. But on seeing them together. but if left to him. He had been sitting with her. but my coachman can tell you where you had best cross the street. and as to Mrs. Weston. and with a cordial nod from one. and could now engage to think of them all at Randalls any hour of the day. Weston. and it was an agreeable surprize to her."But your father is not going so far. looking as serious as he could. stood for Hartfield. nothing could be more proper or pleasing than his whole manner to her--nothing could more agreeably denote his wish of considering her as a friend and securing her affection. Emma remained very well pleased with this beginning of the acquaintance. he may get there from the Crown in a hop. that airy. They walked thither directly. unless you keep on the footpath. knew nothing of their plans. till her usual hour of exercise.--"He did not doubt there being very pleasant walks in every direction. They were all three walking about together for an hour or two-first round the shrubberies of Hartfield. step. Weston. who had called in for half a minute. and on being desired to chuse their walk. and it is a very dirty walk. quite on the other side of the street. and especially to see him in company with Mrs. as their visit included all the rest of the morning. If he were deficient there. in order to hear that his son was very handsome. It was not merely in fine words or hyperbolical compliment that he paid his duty. immediately fixed on Highbury."-Highbury. happy-looking Highbury. arm in arm. Frank knows a puddle of water when he sees it. Weston. and afterwards in Highbury. Bates's. and she trusted to its bearing the same construction with him. She was wanting to see him again. it appeared. Highbury. upon his behaviour to whom her opinion of him was to depend. the two gentlemen took leave. he is only going to the Crown.

walked in quest of her cottage from one end of the street to the other.He was delighted with every thing. He saw no fault in the room. and lament that its original purpose should have ceased. Some of the objects of his curiosity spoke very amiable feelings. and instead of passing on. but he was not satisfied. a good-will towards Highbury in general. to look in and contemplate its capabilities. that with such feelings as were now shewn. No. he stopt for several minutes at the two superior sashed windows which were open. Its character as a ball-room caught him. Woodhouse's ear. where a couple of pair of post-horses were kept. handsome enough. Emma watched and decided. it could not be fairly supposed that he had been ever voluntarily absenting himself. and his companions had not expected to be detained by any interest excited there. he would acknowledge none which they suggested. and that Mr. they shewed. it had been built many years ago for a ball-room. and when their going farther was resolved on. that he had not been acting a part. and while the neighbourhood had been in a particularly populous. and the conviction that none beyond the place and its immediate environs could be tempted to attend.--but such brilliant days had long passed away. though the principal one of the sort. Their first pause was at the Crown Inn. which must be very like a merit to those he was with. and now the highest purpose for which it was ever wanted was to accommodate a whist club established among the gentlemen and half-gentlemen of the place. It would hold the very number for comfort. He could not be persuaded that so many good-looking houses as he saw . Why had not Miss Woodhouse revived the former good old days of the room?--She who could do any thing in Highbury! The want of proper families in the place. an inconsiderable house. They ought to have balls there at least every fortnight through the winter. and found matter of commendation and interest much oftener than Emma could have supposed. were mentioned. more for the convenience of the neighbourhood than from any run on the road. broad enough. Knightley certainly had not done him justice. and which had been the home of his father's father. or making a parade of insincere professions. and on recollecting that an old woman who had nursed him was still living. He begged to be shewn the house which his father had lived in so long. but in passing it they gave the history of the large room visibly added. admired Hartfield sufficiently for Mr. dancing state. had been occasionally used as such. He was immediately interested. and though in some points of pursuit or observation there was no positive merit. altogether. confessed his wish to be made acquainted with the whole village. it was long enough.

or that there would be the smallest difficulty in every body's returning into their proper place the next morning. but she would not allow it to have a sickly hue in general. indeed. and Emma was rather surprized to see the constitution of the Weston prevail so decidedly against the habits of the Churchills. as almost always to give the appearance of ill health. and felt very much obliged to you for your preparatory hint. his indifference to a confusion of rank. If the talking aunt had taken me quite by surprize. seriously. and asked him if he had paid it. And. and social inclinations of his father. He could be no judge." "And how did you think Miss Fairfax looking?" "Ill." Emma would not agree to this. if a young lady can ever be allowed to look ill. scarcely enough. As it was. At last he was persuaded to move on from the front of the Crown. perhaps. no pause. .-A most deplorable want of complexion.around him. however. He seemed to have all the life and spirit. perhaps all that was proper. it must have been the death of me. there was. and nothing of the pride or reserve of Enscombe. oh! yes"--he replied. and being now almost facing the house where the Bateses lodged. could not furnish numbers enough for such a meeting. Emma recollected his intended visit the day before. It was but an effusion of lively spirits. is it? Ladies can never look ill. I was only betrayed into paying a most unreasonable visit." He listened with all due deference. and I had told my father I should certainly be at home before him--but there was no getting away. "I was just going to mention it. He argued like a young man very much bent on dancing. and there was a softness and delicacy in her skin which gave peculiar elegance to the character of her face. Miss Fairfax is naturally so pale. Of pride. to my utter astonishment. bordered too much on inelegance of mind. of the evil he was holding cheap. Mrs. The good lady had not given me the possibility of escape before. when he (finding me nowhere else) joined me there at last. Ten minutes would have been all that was necessary. cheerful feelings. I found. he was still unwilling to admit that the inconvenience of such a mixture would be any thing. Weston. But the expression is hardly admissible. and began a warm defence of Miss Fairfax's complexion. "Yes. that I had been actually sitting with them very nearly three-quarters of an hour. A very successful visit:--I saw all the three ladies. "It was certainly never brilliant. and even when particulars were given and families described. and. very ill--that is.

He comes to Highbury himself. gloves and every thing. If it be not inconvenient to you. pray let us go in. whether you had known much of Miss Fairfax and her party at Weymouth. Miss Fairfax must already have given her account. "there is no disputing about taste. Miss Woodhouse. and has always business at Ford's. Weston's son--but lay out half a guinea at Ford's. "Ha! this must be the very shop that every body attends every day of their lives. to be a true citizen of Highbury. You were very popular before you came. and he hastily exclaimed. the effect was--fortunately he need not attempt to describe what the effect was. It will be taking out my freedom. you were speaking to me. because you were Mr. I do admire your patriotism." They went in. six days out of the seven.--"I cannot separate Miss Fairfax and her complexion. he said--"But I beg your pardon. You will be adored in Highbury." "I merely asked. that I may prove myself to belong to the place. as my father informs me. Where features were indifferent. It is always the lady's right to decide on the degree of acquaintance. I assure you the utmost stretch of public fame would not make me amends for the loss of any happiness in private life. that to him nothing could make amends for the want of the fine glow of health. he says.-I shall not commit myself by claiming more than she may chuse to allow. and your popularity will stand upon your own virtues. and while the sleek. Do not let me lose it.-I dare say they sell gloves. you were saying something at the very moment of this burst of my amor patriae. well-tied parcels of "Men's Beavers" and "York Tan" were bringing down and displaying on the counter." ." "Did you see her often at Weymouth? Were you often in the same society?" At this moment they were approaching Ford's. I must buy something at Ford's.acknowledged that he had heard many people say the same--but yet he must confess." "And now that I understand your question. and where they were good. "Well. a fine complexion gave beauty to them all. I must pronounce it to be a very unfair one.--At least you admire her except her complexion." said Emma." He shook his head and laughed." "Oh! yes.

"Ever hear her!" repeated Emma. She plays charmingly." "I certainly do forget to think of her. Frank Churchill hardly knows what to say when you speak of Miss Fairfax's situation in life. so very unwilling to give the least information about any body. and Mrs. I like them all. that is. that I really think you may say what you like of your acquaintance with her. what she is destined to be?" "Yes--(rather hesitatingly)--I believe I do. indeed?--Then I will speak the truth. "You forget how much she belongs to Highbury." "May I. I met her frequently at Weymouth.-I am excessively fond of music. Campbell a friendly. do you?--I wanted the opinion of some one who could really judge. Colonel Campbell is a very agreeable man.--I have been used to hear her's admired. But her account of every thing leaves so much to be guessed. Weston smiling." "You think so." "You know Miss Fairfax's situation in life." He looked as if he fully understood and honoured such a sentiment. I have heard her every year of our lives since we both began. and I remember one proof of her being thought to play well:--a man. I conclude." "You get upon delicate subjects."Upon my word! you answer as discreetly as she could do herself. She appeared to me to play well. a very musical man. and at Weymouth we were very much in the same set. I will move a little farther off. she is so very reserved. if the lady in question could sit down instead--never seemed ." said Mrs. I had known the Campbells a little in town. "as having ever been any thing but my friend and my dearest friend. but without the smallest skill or right of judging of any body's performance. and in love with another woman--engaged to her--on the point of marriage-would yet never ask that other woman to sit down to the instrument. with considerable taste. When the gloves were bought." said Emma. warm-hearted woman. and they had quitted the shop again. "Did you ever hear the young lady we were speaking of. play?" said Frank Churchill. Emma. "remember that I am here.--Mr. and nothing suits me so well. but I know nothing of the matter myself.

That. Mr." "You are right. and I thought it a very strong proof.to like to hear one if he could hear the other. She must have felt the improper and dangerous distinction. I think. How did Miss Campbell appear to like it?" "It was her very particular friend. Dixon. if I had been Miss Campbell. in half an hour. would have been at all agreeable to me. I could not excuse a man's having more music than love--more ear than eye--a more acute sensibility to fine sounds than to my feelings. I am glad she is gone to settle in Ireland." "Yes. But if she continued to play whenever she was asked by Mr. but herself. than Miss Fairfax would have vouchsafed in half a year. But you. I thought." "So much the better--or so much the worse:--I do not know which. highly amused. It was not very flattering to Miss Campbell. Dixon and Miss Campbell were the persons. or dulness of feeling--there was one person. But be it sweetness or be it stupidity in her--quickness of friendship. to own the truth. it is impossible for me to say on what terms they really were-how it might all be behind the scenes." "Certainly--very strong it was." "There appeared such a perfectly good understanding among them all--" he began rather quickly. laughing. in a man of known musical talent. you know. Dixon is very musical. who have known Miss Fairfax from . was some proof. to do every thing better than one does oneself!-Poor Mrs. "One would rather have a stranger preferred than one's very particular friend--with a stranger it might not recur again--but the misery of having a very particular friend always at hand. I can only say that there was smoothness outwardly." "Poor comfort!" said Emma. or from any body else.--"Mr. who must have felt it: Miss Fairfax herself. is he? We shall know more about them all. added. from you. but checking himself. but she really did not seem to feel it. They are known to no human being. a great deal stronger than." "As to that--I do not--" "Oh! do not imagine that I expect an account of Miss Fairfax's sensations from you. one may guess what one chuses." "Proof indeed!" said Emma. I guess. "however. Dixon! Well.

therefore better than she had expected." "Not till the reserve ceases towards oneself. I hardly know how it has happened. His ideas seemed more moderate-his feelings warmer. and thinking so much alike. than I can be. and would not join them in finding much fault with. He was not exactly what she had expected. or an agreeable companion. Intimacy between Miss Fairfax and me is quite out of the question.a child. and said he did not know what he was talking about. from that wickedness on my side which was prone to take disgust towards a girl so idolized and so cried up as she always was. and it is natural to suppose that we should be intimate." said he. her reserve--I never could attach myself to any one so completely reserved." "It is a most repulsive quality. that she could hardly believe it to be only their second meeting. Weston laughed. must be a better judge of her character. is apt to suggest suspicions of there being something to conceal. Elton's house. "Oftentimes very convenient. as well as the church. less of the man of the world in some of his notions. But we never did. The man must be a blockhead who wanted more. a little. not such a house as a man was to be pitied for having. than I have yet been. and then the attraction may be the greater." "I have known her from a child. Emma felt herself so well acquainted with him. No. There must be ample room in it for every real comfort. which. he could not believe it a bad house. One cannot love a reserved person. less of the spoiled child of fortune. he could not think any man to be pitied for having that house. . There is safety in reserve. to take the trouble of conquering any body's reserve to procure one.--that we should have taken to each other whenever she visited her friends. If it were to be shared with the woman he loved. But I must be more in want of a friend. such a dread of giving a distinct idea about any body. indeed. Used only to a large house himself. undoubtedly. but no attraction." He perfectly agreed with her: and after walking together so long. and all their set. by her aunt and grandmother. And then. I have no reason to think ill of her--not the least--except that such extreme and perpetual cautiousness of word and manner. perhaps. Mrs. he could be no judge of the privations inevitably belonging to a small one. and of how she is likely to conduct herself in critical situations. we have been children and women together. She was particularly struck by his manner of considering Mr. no doubt. but never pleasing. and without ever thinking how many advantages and accommodations were attached to its size. he would go and look at.

the moderation in expense. intending to return to dinner. extravagance. This was all very promising. It did not accord with the rationality of plan. and making no other comment than that "all young people would have their little whims. He might not be aware of the inroads on domestic peace to be occasioned by no housekeeper's room. there was nothing to denote him unworthy of the distinguished honour which her imagination had given him. a great deal decidedly right. the honour. she could observe nothing wrong in his notions. Vanity. if not of being really in love with her. and seemed to mean always to speak of her with respect. but for such an unfortunate fancy for having his hair cut. from worthy motives. Mrs. he would willingly give up much of wealth to be allowed an early establishment. He appeared to have a very open temper--certainly a very cheerful and lively one. which she had believed herself to discern in him yesterday. His father only called him a coxcomb. or even the unselfish warmth of heart. was clear enough. and that he shewed a very amiable inclination to settle early in life. which must be doing something. he spoke of his uncle with warm regard." With the exception of this little blot. or a bad butler's pantry. restlessness of temper. he became liable to all these charges. by her passing it over as quickly as possible. Emma found that his visit hitherto had given her friend only good ideas of him. merely to have his hair cut. Weston did not like it. and saved only by her own indifference-- .But Emma. There was certainly no harm in his travelling sixteen miles twice over on such an errand. by hearing that he was gone off to London. but that Mrs. but there was an air of foppery and nonsense in it which she could not approve. in her own mind. and that whenever he were attached. determined that he did know what he was talking about. and thought it a very good story. of being at least very near it. and though there was no being attached to the aunt. and he had sent for a chaise and set off. good or bad. A sudden freak seemed to have seized him at breakfast. love of change. and. indifferent as to how his conduct might appear in general. Weston was very ready to say how attentive and pleasant a companion he made himself--how much she saw to like in his disposition altogether. was fond of talking of him--said he would be the best man in the world if he were left to himself. Volume Two Chapter Seven Emma's very good opinion of Frank Churchill was a little shaken the following day. Weston. he acknowledged her kindness with gratitude. and to marry. heedlessness as to the pleasure of his father and Mrs. but with no more important view that appeared than having his hair cut. but no doubt he did perfectly feel that Enscombe could not make him happy.

Something occurred while they were at Hartfield. and only moderately genteel. with great candour. from its power of censure. keeping little company. their views increased. they had lived in proportion to their income. and by this time were. to their number of servants. liberal. He gave her to understand that Frank admired her extremely--thought her very beautiful and very charming. in trade." There was one person among his new acquaintance in Surry. in short. They added to their house. he was silent. and unpretending. throughout the parishes of Donwell and Highbury.(for still her resolution held of never marrying)--the honour. In general he was judged. she found she must not judge him harshly. they were of low origin. but there was one spirit among them not to be softened. and a few parties. Their love of society. on his side. in fortune and style of living. added a virtue to the account which must have some weight. and their new dining-room. Weston. Although in one instance the bearers of not good tidings. but the last year or two had brought them a considerable increase of means-the house in town had yielded greater profits. to make Emma want their advice. liberal allowances were made for the little excesses of such a handsome young man-one who smiled so often and bowed so well. Mr. to their expenses of every sort. and Mrs. and. but Emma heard him almost immediately afterwards say to himself. Knightley. and that little unexpensively. As Mrs. and were very good sort of people--friendly. but an instant's observation convinced her that it was really said only to relieve his own feelings. on the other hand. On their first coming into the country. "all young people would have their little whims. and fortune in general had smiled on them. had already taken place. their inclination for more company. and with so much to be said for him altogether. over a newspaper he held in his hand. silly fellow I took him for." She had half a mind to resent. quietly. of being marked out for her by all their joint acquaintance. prepared every body for their keeping dinner-company. chiefly among the single men. The circumstance was told him at Hartfield. Weston observed. "Hum! just the trifling. but. not so leniently disposed. This was the occurrence:--The Coles had been settled some years in Highbury. Mr. The regular and best . for the moment. second only to the family at Hartfield. With their wealth. and not meant to provoke. by bows or smiles--Mr. their want of a larger house. she wanted exactly the advice they gave. Weston's visit this morning was in another respect particularly opportune. and therefore she let it pass. which was still more lucky.

but they ought to be taught that it was not for them to arrange the terms on which the superior families would visit them. Donwell and Randalls had received their invitation. "They would have solicited the honour earlier. and it being briefly settled among themselves how it might be done without neglecting his comfort--how certainly Mrs. Nothing should tempt her to go. which they hoped might keep Mr. and Mrs. they would receive only from herself. she did not know that she might not have been tempted to accept. was but poor comfort. they know you do not dine out. "Upon the whole. even supposing the omission to be intended as a compliment. The bare possibility of it acted as a farther irritation on her spirits.families Emma could hardly suppose they would presume to invite-neither Donwell. and she regretted that her father's known habits would be giving her refusal less meaning than she could wish." she so very soon proceeded to ask them what they advised her to do. Weston's accounting for it with "I suppose they will not take the liberty with you. it found her very differently affected. Woodhouse from any draught of air. considering every thing. consisting precisely of those whose society was dearest to her. for though her first remark. and her being left in solitary grandeur. none of Mr. But she had made up her mind how to meet this presumption so many weeks before it appeared. and therefore induce him the more readily to give them the honour of his company. if not Mrs. The Coles were very respectable in their way. she was very persuadable. on reading it. she was not absolutely without inclination for the party. The Coles expressed themselves so properly--there was so much real attention in the manner of it-so much consideration for her father. and afterwards. that their advice for her going was most prompt and successful. She felt that she should like to have had the power of refusal. It was the arrival of this very invitation while the Westons were at Hartfield. They had been speaking of it as they walked about Highbury the day before. nor Randalls. Harriet was to be there in the evening. but had been waiting the arrival of a folding-screen from London." was not quite sufficient. She owned that. nor Hartfield. as the idea of the party to be assembled there. occurred again and again. and the Bateses. and none had come for her father and herself. Weston. she had little hope of Mr. she very much feared. if they did. This lesson. Bates. and Frank Churchill had most earnestly lamented her absence. Knightley. Might not the evening end in a dance? had been a question of his. Goddard. was that "of course it must be declined. that when the insult came at last. might be depended on for bearing him company-- . which made their presence so acceptable.

The ladies knew better how to allay it. there must be an answer written to Mrs." "You will make my excuses. Mr. if you had not married. of course. Cole should have done it. The dews of a summer evening are what I would not expose any body to. Goddard in a moment. We must remember to let James know that the carriage will be wanted on Tuesday." But the idea of any thing to be done in a moment. Emma did not wish him to think it possible. and the party too numerous. Mr. provided the weather be what it ought. and Mrs. and every thing deliberately arranged. He was soon pretty well resigned. the hours would be too late. if you wish it. and go no where. "He should be happy to see Mrs. and take their tea with us--take us in their afternoon walk." said he--"I never was. and as you will both be there. but still I have no doubt that James will take you very safely." "Well. James could take the note." Then turning to Mrs. beginning with my compliments. my dear. which they might do. However. Weston. You will say that I am quite an invalid.Mr. Mr. And when you get there. No more is Emma. But first of all. and Mr. I think it would be much better if they would come in one afternoon next summer. Cole. you would have staid at home with me. and you had better name an early hour. with a look of gentle reproach--"Ah! Miss Taylor. We have never been there above once since the new approach was made. sir. Woodhouse's agitation. I shall have no fears for you with him. I am sorry Mr. nor windy. and spending the whole evening away from him. Late hours do not agree with us. As for his going. Weston must be quiet. Woodhouse was soon composed enough for talking as usual. and I will step to Mrs. not lessening. and therefore must decline their obliging invitation. as our hours are so reasonable. But you will do every thing right. Goddard. I cannot wish to prevent it. and invite her. "as I took Miss Taylor away. "I am not fond of dinner-visiting. as they are so very desirous to have dear Emma dine with them. it is incumbent on me to supply her place. Weston. I need not tell you what is to be done. With this treatment. Knightley too. and yet get home without being out in the damp of the evening. nor cold. He had a great regard for Mrs. you must tell him at what time you would have him come for you again. and Emma should write a line. neither damp. was increasing." cried Mr. if I can. to take care of her. Goddard. . as civilly as possible. Woodhouse was to be talked into an acquiescence of his daughter's going out to dinner on a day now near at hand.

No. papa. and think little of their own claims. sir. Goddard. You will not like the noise. "The sooner every party breaks up. Emma's going away directly after tea might be giving offence. upon no account in the world." "And no great harm if it does. if she came home cold. I should be extremely sorry to be giving them any pain." "But. I am sure. Cole is very bilious. you would stay a little longer than you might wish. but when she is gone home. They are good-natured people. good sort of people as ever lived." "But you do not consider how it may appear to the Coles. that her own maid . but still they must feel that any body's hurrying away is no great compliment. Mr. I am only afraid of your sitting up for me. but he is bilious--Mr." He did. that she would take something to eat. if hungry. My dear Emma. the better. Perry tells me that Mr. I am not afraid of your not being exceedingly comfortable with Mrs. You would not wish to disappoint and mortify the Coles. Weston. I have no fears at all for myself. we must consider this. but you will soon be tired. my dear sir. rather than run the risk of hurting Mr. instead of going to bed at your usual time--and the idea of that would entirely destroy my comfort.You will not like staying late. papa?" "Oh! no. my love." "Oh yes. friendly. you know." said Mr. I would not be the means of giving them any pain. "if Emma comes away early. she would be sure to warm herself thoroughly. Cole. Weston. but on your account. You must promise me not to sit up. I know what worthy people they are. on the condition of some promises on her side: such as that. you know. among your friends. I am sure. You will not regard being tired." cried Mr. Weston. and Mrs. There will be a great many people talking at once. I am much obliged to you for reminding me. it will be breaking up the party. and who have been your neighbours these ten years. You will be perfectly safe. and Miss Woodhouse's doing it would be more thought of than any other person's in the room. She loves piquet. Cole never touches malt liquor. I am afraid you will be sitting up by yourself. Woodhouse. and I should have no scruples of staying as late as Mrs." "But you would not wish me to come away before I am tired. You would not think it to look at him." "No. You will get very tired when tea is over.

" With Tuesday came the agreeable prospect of seeing him again. but folly is not always folly. I am perfectly sure that he is not trifling or silly. Bates as well as Mrs.should sit up for her. in spite of the scene being laid at Mr. Emma thus moralised to herself:-"I do not know whether it ought to be so. or been ashamed of it. after seeing him. Her father's comfort was amply secured. He was quite as undaunted and as lively as ever. He had no reason to wish his hair longer. and if he kept his father's dinner waiting. to betray any imperfection which could be concealed. Mrs. Mr. even in the days of his favour. Cole.--It depends upon the character of those who handle it. and laughed at himself with a very good grace. and her last pleasing duty. it was not known at Hartfield. Goddard being able to come. none had disturbed her more than his propensity to dine with Mr. Wickedness is always wickedness. or the evasions of a mind too weak to defend its own vanities. Knightley. but without seeming really at all ashamed of what he had done. and for a longer time than hitherto. and while her father was fondly noticing the beauty of her dress. Volume Two Chapter Eight Frank Churchill came back again. by helping them to large slices of cake and full glasses of wine. Woodhouse. to improve his spirits. and without being able to forget that among the failings of Mr. to make the two ladies all the amends in her power. and. He would either have gloried in the achievement. was to pay her respects to them as they sat together after dinner. had had his hair cut. There would have been either the ostentation of a coxcomb. Cole's. for whatever unwilling self-denial his . and of fancying what the observations of all those might be. he is not a trifling. but certainly silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way. and by inference. She meant to be very happy. silly young man. of the meaning of his manners towards herself. Weston was too anxious for his being a favourite with Mr. Elton.--No. If he were. of guessing how soon it might be necessary for her to throw coldness into her air. who were now seeing them together for the first time. of judging of his general manners. to conceal any confusion of face. before she left the house. and that Serle and the butler should see that every thing were safe in the house. for Mrs. He came back. no reason to wish the money unspent. he would have done this differently. as usual.

an air of affected unconcern. was too apt. You are not afraid of being supposed ashamed. She had an opportunity now of speaking her approbation while warm from her heart. from both husband and wife. The party was rather large. When the Westons arrived. and was pleased to see that it was Mr. and independence." He thanked her. She was received with a cordial respect which could not but please. activity.-You might not have distinguished how I came. and the male part of Mr. Knightley. and at dinner she found him seated by her--and. by my look or manner. for Mr. the kindest looks of love." said she. I doubt whether you would have discerned me to be more of a gentleman than usual. Knightley keeping no horses.care of their constitution might have obliged them to practise during the meal. She followed another carriage to Mr." "Nonsensical girl!" was his reply.-I am quite glad to see you. the lawyer of Highbury. as it included one other family. not without some dexterity on his side. but not at all in anger.--She had provided a plentiful dinner for them. I always observe it whenever I meet you under those circumstances. if we had met first in the drawing-room. Cox's family. "This is coming as you should do. and not use his carriage so often as became the owner of Donwell Abbey. for he stopped to hand her out. she wished she could know that they had been allowed to eat it. but with you it is a sort of bravado. whom the Coles had the advantage of naming among their acquaintance. having little spare money and a great deal of health. to get about as he could. I dare say. the son approached her with a cheerful eagerness which marked her as his peculiar object. There is always a look of consciousness or bustle when people come in a way which they know to be beneath them. as she firmly believed. observing. Emma had as much reason to be satisfied with the rest of the party as with Mr. You think you carry it off very well." "Yes I should. You are not striving to look taller than any body else. Now I shall really be very happy to walk into the same room with you. and given all the consequence she could wish for. "How lucky that we should arrive at the same moment! for. Cole's door. the strongest of admiration were for her. The less worthy females were to come . in Emma's opinion. "like a gentleman. I am sure I should. Now you have nothing to try for. Knightley's. a proper unobjectionable country family.

by Miss Bates's account. Mrs. and our little girls. with Miss Bates. was. the end of all the dialogue which ensued of surprize. was the name of Jane Fairfax. has not . and equally rejoiced that such a present had been made. especially considering how many houses there are where fine instruments are absolutely thrown away. who are but just beginning. Cole was telling that she had been calling on Miss Bates. She knows their ways best. I really was ashamed to look at our new grand pianoforte in the drawing-room.in the evening. But Jane. They might chuse to surprize her. That very dear part of Emma. and not a word was said about it." Mrs. and still listen to Mrs. The first remote sound to which she felt herself obliged to attend. Cole. to the great astonishment of both aunt and niece--entirely unexpected. Cole had many to agree with her. every body who spoke on the subject was equally convinced that it must come from Colonel Campbell. "I declare. and congratulations on her side. who is mistress of music. they were both perfectly satisfied that it could be from only one quarter. perhaps may never make any thing of it. "One can suppose nothing else. but a large-sized square pianoforte. Cole. Cole. who plays so delightfully. I do not know when I have heard any thing that has given me more satisfaction!--It always has quite hurt me that Jane Fairfax. It seemed quite a shame. and as soon as she entered the room had been struck by the sight of a pianoforte--a very elegant looking instrument--not a grand. Miss Fairfax." added Mrs. and. Elton were talked over. while I do not know one note from another. and there is poor Jane Fairfax. This is like giving ourselves a slap. Mrs. that this pianoforte had arrived from Broadwood's the day before. quite bewildered to think who could possibly have ordered it-but now. Jane herself was quite at a loss. and explanations on Miss Bates's. but already. at dinner. while politics and Mr. but I should not consider their silence as any reason for their not meaning to make the present.--of course it must be from Colonel Campbell. they were too numerous for any subject of conversation to be general. it seems. received an amusing supply. that at first. had a letter from them very lately. to be sure! and it was but yesterday I was telling Mr. should not have an instrument. her fancy. and Miss Smith. "and I was only surprized that there could ever have been a doubt. and there were enough ready to speak to allow Emma to think her own way. Cole seemed to be relating something of her that was expected to be very interesting. and the substance of the story. She listened. and found it well worth listening to. and inquiry. Emma could fairly surrender all her attention to the pleasantness of her neighbour.

how acceptable an instrument would be. I rather believe you are giving me more credit for acuteness than I deserve." "That is a grand pianoforte." "Or that he did not give her the use of their own instrument-which must now be shut up in London. and finding that nothing more was to be entrapped from any communication of Mrs.--It is a handsome present." "I rather wonder that it was never made before. untouched by any body." "I do not know.any thing of the nature of an instrument. and he might think it too large for Mrs.--I was saying this to Mr. Dixon." "You may say what you chuse--but your countenance testifies that your thoughts on this subject are very much like mine. not even the pitifullest old spinet in the world. and that really is the reason why the instrument was bought-or else I am sure we ought to be ashamed of it. and he quite agreed with me. I smile because you smile. only he is so particularly fond of music that he could not help indulging himself in the purchase. but at present I do not see what there is to question. Dixon?" "Mrs. She must know as well as her father." "Very. Cole's. If Colonel Campbell is not the person. why do you?" "Me!--I suppose I smile for pleasure at Colonel Campbell's being so rich and so liberal." Miss Woodhouse made the proper acquiescence. and perhaps the mode of it. to amuse herself with. hoping that some of our good neighbours might be so obliging occasionally to put it to a better use than we can. . Dixon! very true indeed. and shall probably suspect whatever I find you suspect. "Nay.--We are in great hopes that Miss Woodhouse may be prevailed with to try it this evening. the surprize. "Why do you smile?" said she. Cole but yesterday. who can be?" "What do you say to Mrs. turned to Frank Churchill." "Perhaps Miss Fairfax has never been staying here so long before. Bates's house. I had not thought of Mrs. the mystery.

I think I should have made some discoveries. for it seems to be a new idea to you. but what can any body's native air do for them in the months of January. he saved her life. Mr. As to the pretence of trying her native air. I dare say. there it would have been all enjoyment. and what you told me on that head. and by some accident she was falling overboard. and March? Good fires and carriages would be much more to the purpose in most cases of delicate health." "He did. she must be leading a life of privation and penance. though you make so noble a profession of doing it. I look upon that as a mere excuse. you know.--In the summer it might have passed. Dixon.--I do not mean to reflect upon the good intentions of either Mr. of his being so warm an admirer of her performance." "Were you really?--Well!--But you observed nothing of course. or that he became conscious of a little attachment on her side. Dixon in them." "I dare say you would. He caught her. Dixon. saw nothing but the fact. Dixon's preference of her music to her friend's. I told you that your suspicions would guide mine.is more like a young woman's scheme than an elderly man's. and I dare say in her's. but I honestly tell you what they are. but I cannot help suspecting either that. upon my word. Yes. you must extend your suspicions and comprehend Mr. they have an air of great probability. Dixon or Miss Fairfax. One might guess twenty things without guessing exactly the right. It is Mrs. and Mrs. Dixon . confirmed an idea which I had entertained before.--If I had been there. Here." "And." "Mr. We were speaking the other day." "If so. after making his proposals to her friend. but I am sure there must be a particular cause for her chusing to come to Highbury instead of going with the Campbells to Ireland. he had the misfortune to fall in love with her. I immediately perceive that it must be the joint present of Mr." "And then. but I. February." "Yes.--Very well. I can answer for being very decided. I do not require you to adopt all my suspicions. Did you ever hear of that?-A water party. that Miss Fairfax was nearly dashed from the vessel and that Mr. simple I. Dixon. I was there--one of the party.

and were talked to and admired amid the usual rate of conversation. arrived. old news. I may not have convinced you perhaps. and thought it the most natural thing in the world. I saw it only as paternal kindness." "No. Dixon. Your reasonings carry my judgment along with them entirely. The conviction seemed real." The conversation was here interrupted.caught her. At first. And now I can see it in no other light than as an offering of love. while I supposed you satisfied that Colonel Campbell was the giver. Emma said." "Indeed you injure me if you suppose me unconvinced. and occupation and ease were generally restored. but when the table was again safely covered. She would not have been puzzled. had she dared fix on them. but I am perfectly convinced myself that Mr. or they would have been guessed at first. but by much the larger proportion neither the one nor the other--nothing worse than everyday remarks. that you might not have made discoveries. however. They were called on to share in the awkwardness of a rather long interval between the courses. I do not mean to say. and Mrs. I felt how much more probable that it should be the tribute of warm female friendship. and heavy jokes. in their different divisions. he looked as if he felt it. The ladies had not been long in the drawing-room. I wanted to know a little more. and this tells me quite enough. a few clever things said. a few downright silly. dull repetitions. when every corner dish was placed exactly right. Dixon. I am sure it is not from the Campbells. And though the consequent shock and alarm was very great and much more durable--indeed I believe it was half an hour before any of us were comfortable again-yet that was too general a sensation for any thing of peculiar anxiety to be observable. before the other ladies. and obliged to be as formal and as orderly as the others. we shall soon hear that it is a present from Mr. Dixon is a principal in the business. Emma watched the entree of her . other subjects took their turn. and the rest of the dinner passed away. She said no more." There was no occasion to press the matter farther. Miss Fairfax knows it is not from the Campbells. "The arrival of this pianoforte is decisive with me.--It was the work of a moment. the dessert succeeded. Depend upon it." "And if the Dixons should absolutely deny all knowledge of it we must conclude it to come from the Campbells. the children came in. But when you mentioned Mrs.

and she saw the blush of consciousness with which congratulations were received. and having so much to ask and to say as to tone. totally unsuspicious of that wish of saying as little about it as possible. which she plainly read in the fair heroine's countenance. and every body must perceive it. in the midst of the pangs of disappointed affection. Miss Smith. but Emma suspected she might have been glad to change feelings with Harriet. Weston. very glad to have purchased the mortification of having loved--yes. she felt too much in the secret herself. kind-hearted and musical. but she did think there were some looks a little like Mr. was enough for the happiness of the present hour. but by the others. and if she could not exult in her dignity and grace. and therefore purposely kept at a distance. . and was delighted with her naivete. Emma divined what every body present must be thinking. and. at convenient moments afterwards. where sat Miss Woodhouse. and Emma could not help being amused at her perseverance in dwelling on the subject. They were soon joined by some of the gentlemen. In he walked. but could most heartily rejoice in that light. Elton in vain--by the surrender of all the dangerous pleasure of knowing herself beloved by the husband of her friend. and say nothing. Jane Fairfax did look and move superior. "He had never seen so lovely a face. In so large a party it was not necessary that Emma should approach her. and after paying his compliments en passant to Miss Bates and her niece. to think the appearance of curiosity or interest fair. nicely dressed herself and seeing others nicely dressed. made his way directly to the opposite side of the circle. would not sit at all. and the very first of the early was Frank Churchill. the subject was almost immediately introduced.own particular little friend. and till he could find a seat by her. She was his object." Mrs. cheerful. the first and the handsomest. of having loved even Mr. unsentimental disposition which allowed her so many alleviations of pleasure. she could not only love the blooming sweetness and the artless manner. was particularly interested by the circumstance. and pedal. She introduced him to her friend. heard what each thought of the other. Elton. and only turned from her in silence. the blush of guilt which accompanied the name of "my excellent friend Colonel Campbell." And she. to sit and smile and look pretty." Emma restrained her indignation. "Only to be sure it was paying him too great a compliment. touch. There she sat--and who would have guessed how many tears she had been lately shedding? To be in company. She did not wish to speak of the pianoforte.

none very near. though he had his separate engagements. and others!-I hate the recollection. The unpersuadable point. or introduce an acquaintance for a night. Emma guessed to be good behaviour to his father. that he had persuaded his aunt where his uncle could do nothing. without considerable address at times. but it naturally betrayed itself. that he could get away. Mr. Churchill were not in health and spirits for going. he then mentioned. "I have made a most wretched discovery. which he did not mention. Cox." . But just got acquainted with Mrs. He did not boast. Weston.-"I have been here a week to-morrow--half my time. taken at its best. as he had found them in general a set of gentlemanlike. She saw that Enscombe could not satisfy. and on her laughing and noticing it. he was beginning to have no longer the same wish. sensible men." "Perhaps you may now begin to regret that you spent one whole day. it had been pleasant enough. A week to-morrow!--And I have hardly begun to enjoy myself. She questioned him as to the society in Yorkshire-the extent of the neighbourhood about Enscombe. He had wanted very much to go abroad--had been very eager indeed to be allowed to travel--but she would not hear of it. Now. and invitations accepted. out of so few. Knightley. and that even when days were fixed. and that Highbury. and that. he owned that he believed (excepting one or two points) he could with time persuade her to any thing. there was very little going on. I never knew days fly so fast. His importance at Enscombe was very evident. and Mr. He told her that he had been impatient to leave the dining-room-hated sitting long--was always the first to move when he could-that his father. but it was most prudent to avoid speech. he said. and could make out from his answers that. that they made a point of visiting no fresh person. were left very busy over parish business--that as long as he had staid. as far as Enscombe was concerned. and the sort. after a short pause. in having your hair cut.Smiles of intelligence passed between her and the gentleman on first glancing towards Miss Fairfax. Cole." said he. that their visitings were among a range of great families. Mr. One of those points on which his influence failed. however. it was an even chance that Mrs. might reasonably please a young man who had more retirement at home than he liked. This had happened the year before. it was not without difficulty. and spoke so handsomely of Highbury altogether--thought it so abundant in agreeable families-that Emma began to feel she had been used to despise the place rather too much.

"No," said he, smiling, "that is no subject of regret at all. I have no pleasure in seeing my friends, unless I can believe myself fit to be seen." The rest of the gentlemen being now in the room, Emma found herself obliged to turn from him for a few minutes, and listen to Mr. Cole. When Mr. Cole had moved away, and her attention could be restored as before, she saw Frank Churchill looking intently across the room at Miss Fairfax, who was sitting exactly opposite. "What is the matter?" said she. He started. "Thank you for rousing me," he replied. "I believe I have been very rude; but really Miss Fairfax has done her hair in so odd a way--so very odd a way--that I cannot keep my eyes from her. I never saw any thing so outree!--Those curls!--This must be a fancy of her own. I see nobody else looking like her!-I must go and ask her whether it is an Irish fashion. Shall I?-Yes, I will--I declare I will--and you shall see how she takes it;-whether she colours." He was gone immediately; and Emma soon saw him standing before Miss Fairfax, and talking to her; but as to its effect on the young lady, as he had improvidently placed himself exactly between them, exactly in front of Miss Fairfax, she could absolutely distinguish nothing. Before he could return to his chair, it was taken by Mrs. Weston. "This is the luxury of a large party," said she:--"one can get near every body, and say every thing. My dear Emma, I am longing to talk to you. I have been making discoveries and forming plans, just like yourself, and I must tell them while the idea is fresh. Do you know how Miss Bates and her niece came here?" "How?--They were invited, were not they?" "Oh! yes--but how they were conveyed hither?--the manner of their coming?" "They walked, I conclude. How else could they come?" "Very true.--Well, a little while ago it occurred to me how very sad it would be to have Jane Fairfax walking home again, late at night, and cold as the nights are now. And as I looked at her, though I never saw her appear to more advantage, it struck me that she was heated, and would therefore be particularly liable to take cold. Poor girl! I could not bear the idea of it; so, as soon as Mr. Weston

came into the room, and I could get at him, I spoke to him about the carriage. You may guess how readily he came into my wishes; and having his approbation, I made my way directly to Miss Bates, to assure her that the carriage would be at her service before it took us home; for I thought it would be making her comfortable at once. Good soul! she was as grateful as possible, you may be sure. `Nobody was ever so fortunate as herself!'--but with many, many thanks--`there was no occasion to trouble us, for Mr. Knightley's carriage had brought, and was to take them home again.' I was quite surprized;--very glad, I am sure; but really quite surprized. Such a very kind attention--and so thoughtful an attention!-the sort of thing that so few men would think of. And, in short, from knowing his usual ways, I am very much inclined to think that it was for their accommodation the carriage was used at all. I do suspect he would not have had a pair of horses for himself, and that it was only as an excuse for assisting them." "Very likely," said Emma--"nothing more likely. I know no man more likely than Mr. Knightley to do the sort of thing--to do any thing really good-natured, useful, considerate, or benevolent. He is not a gallant man, but he is a very humane one; and this, considering Jane Fairfax's ill-health, would appear a case of humanity to him;--and for an act of unostentatious kindness, there is nobody whom I would fix on more than on Mr. Knightley. I know he had horses to-day--for we arrived together; and I laughed at him about it, but he said not a word that could betray." "Well," said Mrs. Weston, smiling, "you give him credit for more simple, disinterested benevolence in this instance than I do; for while Miss Bates was speaking, a suspicion darted into my head, and I have never been able to get it out again. The more I think of it, the more probable it appears. In short, I have made a match between Mr. Knightley and Jane Fairfax. See the consequence of keeping you company!--What do you say to it?" "Mr. Knightley and Jane Fairfax!" exclaimed Emma. "Dear Mrs. Weston, how could you think of such a thing?--Mr. Knightley!--Mr. Knightley must not marry!--You would not have little Henry cut out from Donwell?-Oh! no, no, Henry must have Donwell. I cannot at all consent to Mr. Knightley's marrying; and I am sure it is not at all likely. I am amazed that you should think of such a thing." "My dear Emma, I have told you what led me to think of it. I do not want the match--I do not want to injure dear little Henry-but the idea has been given me by circumstances; and if Mr. Knightley

really wished to marry, you would not have him refrain on Henry's account, a boy of six years old, who knows nothing of the matter?" "Yes, I would. I could not bear to have Henry supplanted.-Mr. Knightley marry!--No, I have never had such an idea, and I cannot adopt it now. And Jane Fairfax, too, of all women!" "Nay, she has always been a first favourite with him, as you very well know." "But the imprudence of such a match!" "I am not speaking of its prudence; merely its probability." "I see no probability in it, unless you have any better foundation than what you mention. His good-nature, his humanity, as I tell you, would be quite enough to account for the horses. He has a great regard for the Bateses, you know, independent of Jane Fairfax-and is always glad to shew them attention. My dear Mrs. Weston, do not take to match-making. You do it very ill. Jane Fairfax mistress of the Abbey!--Oh! no, no;--every feeling revolts. For his own sake, I would not have him do so mad a thing." "Imprudent, if you please--but not mad. Excepting inequality of fortune, and perhaps a little disparity of age, I can see nothing unsuitable." "But Mr. Knightley does not want to marry. I am sure he has not the least idea of it. Do not put it into his head. Why should he marry?-He is as happy as possible by himself; with his farm, and his sheep, and his library, and all the parish to manage; and he is extremely fond of his brother's children. He has no occasion to marry, either to fill up his time or his heart." "My dear Emma, as long as he thinks so, it is so; but if he really loves Jane Fairfax--" "Nonsense! He does not care about Jane Fairfax. In the way of love, I am sure he does not. He would do any good to her, or her family; but--" "Well," said Mrs. Weston, laughing, "perhaps the greatest good he could do them, would be to give Jane such a respectable home." "If it would be good to her, I am sure it would be evil to himself; a very shameful and degrading connexion. How would he bear to have Miss Bates belonging to him?--To have her haunting the Abbey,

and thanking him all day long for his great kindness in marrying Jane?-`So very kind and obliging!--But he always had been such a very kind neighbour!' And then fly off, through half a sentence, to her mother's old petticoat. `Not that it was such a very old petticoat either--for still it would last a great while--and, indeed, she must thankfully say that their petticoats were all very strong.'" "For shame, Emma! Do not mimic her. You divert me against my conscience. And, upon my word, I do not think Mr. Knightley would be much disturbed by Miss Bates. Little things do not irritate him. She might talk on; and if he wanted to say any thing himself, he would only talk louder, and drown her voice. But the question is not, whether it would be a bad connexion for him, but whether he wishes it; and I think he does. I have heard him speak, and so must you, so very highly of Jane Fairfax! The interest he takes in her-his anxiety about her health--his concern that she should have no happier prospect! I have heard him express himself so warmly on those points!--Such an admirer of her performance on the pianoforte, and of her voice! I have heard him say that he could listen to her for ever. Oh! and I had almost forgotten one idea that occurred to me--this pianoforte that has been sent here by somebody-though we have all been so well satisfied to consider it a present from the Campbells, may it not be from Mr. Knightley? I cannot help suspecting him. I think he is just the person to do it, even without being in love." "Then it can be no argument to prove that he is in love. But I do not think it is at all a likely thing for him to do. Mr. Knightley does nothing mysteriously." "I have heard him lamenting her having no instrument repeatedly; oftener than I should suppose such a circumstance would, in the common course of things, occur to him." "Very well; and if he had intended to give her one, he would have told her so." "There might be scruples of delicacy, my dear Emma. I have a very strong notion that it comes from him. I am sure he was particularly silent when Mrs. Cole told us of it at dinner." "You take up an idea, Mrs. Weston, and run away with it; as you have many a time reproached me with doing. I see no sign of attachment-I believe nothing of the pianoforte--and proof only shall convince me that Mr. Knightley has any thought of marrying Jane Fairfax."

They combated the point some time longer in the same way; Emma rather gaining ground over the mind of her friend; for Mrs. Weston was the most used of the two to yield; till a little bustle in the room shewed them that tea was over, and the instrument in preparation;-and at the same moment Mr. Cole approaching to entreat Miss Woodhouse would do them the honour of trying it. Frank Churchill, of whom, in the eagerness of her conversation with Mrs. Weston, she had been seeing nothing, except that he had found a seat by Miss Fairfax, followed Mr. Cole, to add his very pressing entreaties; and as, in every respect, it suited Emma best to lead, she gave a very proper compliance. She knew the limitations of her own powers too well to attempt more than she could perform with credit; she wanted neither taste nor spirit in the little things which are generally acceptable, and could accompany her own voice well. One accompaniment to her song took her agreeably by surprize--a second, slightly but correctly taken by Frank Churchill. Her pardon was duly begged at the close of the song, and every thing usual followed. He was accused of having a delightful voice, and a perfect knowledge of music; which was properly denied; and that he knew nothing of the matter, and had no voice at all, roundly asserted. They sang together once more; and Emma would then resign her place to Miss Fairfax, whose performance, both vocal and instrumental, she never could attempt to conceal from herself, was infinitely superior to her own. With mixed feelings, she seated herself at a little distance from the numbers round the instrument, to listen. Frank Churchill sang again. They had sung together once or twice, it appeared, at Weymouth. But the sight of Mr. Knightley among the most attentive, soon drew away half Emma's mind; and she fell into a train of thinking on the subject of Mrs. Weston's suspicions, to which the sweet sounds of the united voices gave only momentary interruptions. Her objections to Mr. Knightley's marrying did not in the least subside. She could see nothing but evil in it. It would be a great disappointment to Mr. John Knightley; consequently to Isabella. A real injury to the children--a most mortifying change, and material loss to them all;--a very great deduction from her father's daily comfort--and, as to herself, she could not at all endure the idea of Jane Fairfax at Donwell Abbey. A Mrs. Knightley for them all to give way to!--No--Mr. Knightley must never marry. Little Henry must remain the heir of Donwell. Presently Mr. Knightley looked back, and came and sat down by her. They talked at first only of the performance. His admiration was certainly very warm; yet she thought, but for Mrs. Weston,

it would not have struck her. As a sort of touchstone, however, she began to speak of his kindness in conveying the aunt and niece; and though his answer was in the spirit of cutting the matter short, she believed it to indicate only his disinclination to dwell on any kindness of his own. "I often feel concern," said she, "that I dare not make our carriage more useful on such occasions. It is not that I am without the wish; but you know how impossible my father would deem it that James should put-to for such a purpose." "Quite out of the question, quite out of the question," he replied;-"but you must often wish it, I am sure." And he smiled with such seeming pleasure at the conviction, that she must proceed another step. "This present from the Campbells," said she--"this pianoforte is very kindly given." "Yes," he replied, and without the smallest apparent embarrassment.-"But they would have done better had they given her notice of it. Surprizes are foolish things. The pleasure is not enhanced, and the inconvenience is often considerable. I should have expected better judgment in Colonel Campbell." From that moment, Emma could have taken her oath that Mr. Knightley had had no concern in giving the instrument. But whether he were entirely free from peculiar attachment--whether there were no actual preference--remained a little longer doubtful. Towards the end of Jane's second song, her voice grew thick. "That will do," said he, when it was finished, thinking aloud-"you have sung quite enough for one evening--now be quiet." Another song, however, was soon begged for. "One more;--they would not fatigue Miss Fairfax on any account, and would only ask for one more." And Frank Churchill was heard to say, "I think you could manage this without effort; the first part is so very trifling. The strength of the song falls on the second." Mr. Knightley grew angry. "That fellow," said he, indignantly, "thinks of nothing but shewing off his own voice. This must not be." And touching Miss Bates, who at that moment passed near--"Miss Bates, are you mad, to let your niece sing herself hoarse in this manner? Go, and interfere. They have no mercy on her."

Miss Bates, in her real anxiety for Jane, could hardly stay even to be grateful, before she stept forward and put an end to all farther singing. Here ceased the concert part of the evening, for Miss Woodhouse and Miss Fairfax were the only young lady performers; but soon (within five minutes) the proposal of dancing-originating nobody exactly knew where--was so effectually promoted by Mr. and Mrs. Cole, that every thing was rapidly clearing away, to give proper space. Mrs. Weston, capital in her country-dances, was seated, and beginning an irresistible waltz; and Frank Churchill, coming up with most becoming gallantry to Emma, had secured her hand, and led her up to the top. While waiting till the other young people could pair themselves off, Emma found time, in spite of the compliments she was receiving on her voice and her taste, to look about, and see what became of Mr. Knightley. This would be a trial. He was no dancer in general. If he were to be very alert in engaging Jane Fairfax now, it might augur something. There was no immediate appearance. No; he was talking to Mrs. Cole-he was looking on unconcerned; Jane was asked by somebody else, and he was still talking to Mrs. Cole. Emma had no longer an alarm for Henry; his interest was yet safe; and she led off the dance with genuine spirit and enjoyment. Not more than five couple could be mustered; but the rarity and the suddenness of it made it very delightful, and she found herself well matched in a partner. They were a couple worth looking at. Two dances, unfortunately, were all that could be allowed. It was growing late, and Miss Bates became anxious to get home, on her mother's account. After some attempts, therefore, to be permitted to begin again, they were obliged to thank Mrs. Weston, look sorrowful, and have done. "Perhaps it is as well," said Frank Churchill, as he attended Emma to her carriage. "I must have asked Miss Fairfax, and her languid dancing would not have agreed with me, after your's."
Volume Two Chapter Nine

Emma did not repent her condescension in going to the Coles. The visit afforded her many pleasant recollections the next day; and all that she might be supposed to have lost on the side of dignified seclusion, must be amply repaid in the splendour of popularity. She must have delighted the Coles--worthy people, who deserved to be made happy!--And left a name behind her that would not soon die away.

My playing is no more like her's. Nobody talked about it. I think you play quite as well as she does. She doubted whether she had not transgressed the duty of woman by woman. was a compliment to her penetration. must have felt the difference. The truth is. and Mr. She was then interrupted by Harriet's coming in. but Jane Fairfax's is much beyond it. that my playing is just good enough to be praised. even in memory. in betraying her suspicions of Jane Fairfax's feelings to Frank Churchill. I always shall think that you play quite as well as she does. Harriet. And I hate Italian singing. because she will have to teach. she might soon have been comforted. I am sure I had much rather hear you." "Those who knew any thing about it. and there she had no doubt. and if Harriet's praise could have satisfied her. The other circumstance of regret related also to Jane Fairfax. Besides. How did you think the Coxes looked?" . and there were two points on which she was not quite easy. and that he valued taste much more than execution. it is no more than she is obliged to do. but I did not know she had any taste. that it would escape her.Perfect happiness. Mr. She did most heartily grieve over the idleness of her childhood--and sat down and practised vigorously an hour and a half.-There is no understanding a word of it. which made it difficult for her to be quite certain that she ought to have held her tongue. Cole said how much taste you had. It was hardly right. than a lamp is like sunshine. but it had been so strong an idea. "Oh! if I could but play as well as you and Miss Fairfax!" "Don't class us together. Harriet." "Well. Harriet. or that if there is any difference nobody would ever find it out. She did unfeignedly and unequivocally regret the inferiority of her own playing and singing. and his submission to all that she told. Frank Churchill talked a great deal about your taste. if she does play so very well. The Coxes were wondering last night whether she would get into any great family." "Ah! but Jane Fairfax has them both." "Are you sure? I saw she had execution. is not common." "Oh! dear--I think you play the best of the two. Every body last night said how well you played. you know.

" "She meant to be impertinently curious. William Cox letting himself in at the office-door. "They told me---that Mr. would be dangerous." "Oh!" "He came to their father upon some business." "Oh!" "They talked a great deal about him. a tidy old woman travelling homewards from shop with her full basket. He sat by her at dinner. Another accidental meeting with the Martins was possible. though fearful of its producing Mr.--I think they are. and a string of dawdling children round the baker's little bow-window . was always very long at a purchase. Elton. without exception." Harriet had business at Ford's. tempted by every thing and swayed by half a word. Miss Nash thinks either of the Coxes would be very glad to marry him." "They told me something. especially Anne Cox." but it is nothing of any consequence. Perry walking hastily by." "Very likely. but she asked me if I thought I should go and stay there again next summer." said Harriet rather hesitatingly. two curs quarrelling over a dirty bone. just as such an Anne Cox should be. Martin dined with them last Saturday. Emma went to the door for amusement. Mr."Just as they always do--very vulgar. I do not know what she meant. Harriet.--Much could not be hoped from the traffic of even the busiest part of Highbury. and in her present state." "She said he was very agreeable the day he dined there. Mr. were the liveliest objects she could presume to expect. and when her eyes fell only on the butcher with his tray. Cole's carriage-horses returning from exercise.--Emma thought it most prudent to go with her. or a stray letter-boy on an obstinate mule." Emma was obliged to ask what they had told her. and he asked him to stay to dinner. and while she was still hanging over muslins and changing her mind.-Mr. the most vulgar girls in Highbury.

They would be very much pleased. She will probably have soon done. They were stopping. two persons appeared. quite enough still to stand at the door. I am going now. I did not know that I had fixed a day. that I would come this morning. Bates's.--Immediately they crossed the road and came forward to her. The scene enlarged." said Emma. She looked down the Randalls road. and can see nothing that does not answer.--to Hartfield of course." Mrs. I was not aware of it myself. and if it should prove to have an indifferent tone--what shall I say? I shall be no support to Mrs. when Emma caught their eye. But." said Frank Churchill. and the agreeableness of yesterday's engagement seemed to give fresh pleasure to the present meeting. I may be allowed." said she. but as he says I did. A disagreeable truth would be palatable through her lips." . Weston informed her that she was going to call on the Bateses. Mrs. in order to hear the new instrument. they were walking into Highbury. My aunt always sends me off when she is shopping. I hope. Weston. But you had better go with Mrs. and then we shall go home. "I thought you meant to go with me. What am I to do?" "I am here on no business of my own. however." "And while Mrs. A mind lively and at ease. can do with seeing nothing. and Miss Woodhouse looks as if she could almost say the same. Weston and hear the instrument. Miss Woodhouse looks as if she did not want me. and was amused enough. "I am only waiting for my friend.--But (with a smile) if Colonel Campbell should have employed a careless friend. Weston was disappointed. She says I fidget her to death. in the first place at Mrs." "Well--if you advise it. "to join your party and wait for her at Hartfield-if you are going home. she knew she had no reason to complain. Weston and her son-in-law. She might do very well by herself. whose house was a little nearer Randalls than Ford's. perhaps--I may be equally in the way here. but I am the wretchedest being in the world at a civil falsehood. "For my companion tells me." "Me! I should be quite in the way. and had all but knocked. "that I absolutely promised Miss Bates last night. Mrs. Weston pays her visit.eyeing the gingerbread.

I think. We will go to Hartfield afterwards. Emma watched them in. quite satisfied. It need not detain us long. Weston. It will be felt so great an attention! and I always thought you meant it. Quite otherwise indeed." "Aye.--And I could take the pattern gown home any day." replied Emma. could not you?" "It is not worth while. Then. with all the force of her own mind. and that a blue ribbon. Goddard's-I do not know--No. What do you advise?" "That you do not give another half-second to the subject. if you please. Goddard's. if you please. to convince her that if she wanted plain muslin it was of no use to look at figured. Goddard's. and take it home with me at night. if you please." . Miss Woodhouse. I may just as well have it sent to Hartfield. returned with Mrs. would still never match her yellow pattern. Ford.--"I am persuaded that you can be as insincere as your neighbours. be it ever so beautiful." said Harriet. Goddard will want to see it. ma'am. No. ma'am?" asked Mrs. you shall send it to Hartfield. Ford the trouble of two parcels. Bates's door. you shall send it all to Mrs.-"Yes--no--yes." said the obliging Mrs. Weston to Mrs. and with the hope of Hartfield to reward him. Only my pattern gown is at Hartfield. Ford. if I understood Miss Fairfax's opinion last night. "I should not at all like to have it sent to Mrs. To Hartfield. I really wish you to call with me."I do not believe any such thing. Goddard's. to give Mrs. Harriet. You could make it into two parcels. "Oh! but indeed I would much rather have it only in one. that will be much best. even to the destination of the parcel." said Mrs. "Should I send it to Mrs. Ford. when it is necessary. to Mrs. Mrs." "Do come with me. and then joined Harriet at the interesting counter. But I shall want the ribbon directly-so it had better go to Hartfield--at least the ribbon. Mrs." "No more it is. But then. We will follow them to Hartfield. At last it was all settled. but there is no reason to suppose the instrument is indifferent. Mrs." "No trouble in the world. "if it be not very disagreeable to you. Ford.--trying." He could say no more.

and Jane caught no cold last night. you know. till I have finished my job. I am sure Miss Woodhouse will allow me just to run across and entreat her to come in. you would be quite frightened if you saw it. I meant to take them over to John Saunders the first thing I did. How is Mr. fastening in the rivet of my mother's spectacles. you know? Only three of us. Weston to come with me. Patty do not come with your bad news to me. I dare not let my mother know how little she eats--so I say one thing and then I say another. Here is the rivet of your mistress's spectacles out.Voices approached the shop--or rather one voice and two ladies: Mrs. and they are extremely wholesome. `wait half a minute. Woodhouse?--I am so glad to hear such a good account. I must run across. How do you do. Wallis can be uncivil and give a very rude answer. But about the middle of the day she gets hungry.'-But. I am much obliged to you." said the latter. Miss Woodhouse. And. you know. Mrs. that I might be sure of succeeding. Wallis sent them by her boy. Jane said so. they are extremely civil and obliging to us. and give us your opinion of our new instrument. Weston and Miss Bates met them at the door. Then the baked apples came home. I shall be more sure of succeeding if one of you will go with me. but we have never known any thing but the greatest attention from them. Perry. she cannot refuse. said I. they should indeed.--The rivet came out. Bates and Miss Fairfax are--" "Very well. And it cannot be for the value of our custom now. Weston told me you were here. there is no saying what. and it passes off. for I took the opportunity the other day of asking Mr.' said he. `Miss Woodhouse's opinion of the instrument will be worth having. every body ought to have two pair of spectacles. you and Miss Smith.'--For.--`Aye. . for what is our consumption of bread. would you believe it. my mother will be so very happy to see her--and now we are such a nice party.-Oh! then." "I hope Mrs. by the bye. At one time Patty came to say she thought the kitchen chimney wanted sweeping. Miss Smith?--Very well I thank you. pray do. "My dear Miss Woodhouse.-besides dear Jane at present--and she really eats nothing--makes such a shocking breakfast. this morning. but something or other hindered me all the morning.' said Mr.--And I begged Mrs. Mrs. said I. there he is. My mother is delightfully well. Frank Churchill. Oh. said I. the Wallises. and there is nothing she likes so well as these baked apples. always--I have heard some people say that Mrs.-So very obliging!--For my mother had no use of her spectacles-could not put them on. in the most obliging manner in the world. "I am just run across to entreat the favour of you to come and sit down with us a little while. first one thing. then another.--`Oh.

Mrs. . . . So very obliging of Mr. `I do think I can fasten the rivet. . . Indeed I must say that. . I did not see you before.' I never shall forget his manner. I hear you have a charming collection of new ribbons from town. Indeed they are very delightful apples. Emma wondered on what. it was no compliment. Ford? I beg your pardon." "What was I talking of?" said she. was so very.I happened to meet him in the street. Mrs. . Weston. you have prevailed. Bates. Woodhouse made us promise to have them done three times-but Miss Woodhouse will be so good as not to mention it. . beyond a doubt. I hope. . and certainly there never was such a keeping apple anywhere as one of his trees--I believe there . Well. `Oh!' said he. And when I brought out the baked apples from the closet. The apples themselves are the very finest sort for baking. Thank ye. And I am sure. beginning again when they were all in the street. . "I declare I cannot recollect what I was talking of. Wallis does them full justice--only we do not have them baked more than twice.--Oh! my mother's spectacles. by his manner. He sends us a sack every year. most warmly. Woodhouse recommend a baked apple. . `Oh!' said he directly. I like a job of this kind excessively. however. Not that I had any doubt before-I have so often heard Mr. the gloves do very well--only a little too large about the wrist.. much as I had heard of him before and much as I had expected. and Mrs. I believe it is the only way that Mr. Weston. she would fix. but Jane is taking them in. Patty makes an excellent apple-dumpling. all from Donwell--some of Mr. . very often. Mrs. and these ladies will oblige us. I do congratulate you.' That. I like a job of that sort excessively. Frank Churchill! `Oh!' said he." and they did at last move out of the shop. with no farther delay from Miss Bates than. Jane came back delighted yesterday. He seems every thing the fondest parent could. and Mr. Woodhouse thinks the fruit thoroughly wholesome.'--Which you know shewed him to be so very. `there is nothing in the way of fruit half so good. and hoped our friends would be so very obliging as to take some. &c. `I can fasten the rivet. We have apple-dumplings. you know. "How do you do. of all the medley." Emma would be "very happy to wait on Mrs. he very far exceeds any thing. and these are the finest-looking home-baked apples I ever saw in my life. Knightley's most liberal supply.

she almost quarrelled with me--No.' So I begged he would not--for really as to ours being gone. William Larkins is such an old acquaintance! I am always glad to see him. and Jane was eating these apples. I could not absolutely say that we had a great many left--it was but half a dozen indeed. `and I will send you another supply. pursued only by the sounds of her desultory good-will." Miss Bates had just done as Patty opened the door. I had mentioned it before I was aware. and I could not at all bear that he should be sending us more. Knightley called one morning. . the very same evening William Larkins came over with a large basket of apples. And so Patty told me. and her visitors walked upstairs without having any regular narration to attend to. Knightley know any thing about it for the world! He would be so very. But I was really quite shocked the other day-for Mr. my dear. William did not seem to mind it himself. I should not say quarrelled. and we talked about them and said how much she enjoyed them. Hodges would be cross sometimes. he had brought them all--and now his master had not one left to bake or boil. And when he was gone. and I was excessively shocked indeed! I would not have Mr. and be sure not to say any thing to us about it. he said. and he asked whether we were not got to the end of our stock. . and as long as so many sacks were sold. . for I have a great many more than I can ever use. said I. but bid her not mind it. it did not signify who ate the remainder. He told Patty this. that William said it was all the apples of that sort his master had. I did say as much as I could. But. she wished I had made him believe we had a great many left. but. you know. William Larkins let me keep a larger quantity than usual this year. a bushel at least. before they get good for nothing. . I wanted to keep it from Jane's knowledge.' said he. he was so pleased to think his master had sold so many.is two of them. however. Hodges. and went down and spoke to William Larkins and said every thing. as you may suppose. for William. for we never had a quarrel in our lives. She could not bear that her master should not be able to have another apple-tart this spring. However. thinks more of his master's profit than any thing. so liberal as he had been already. and Jane said the same. the same sort of apples. `I am sure you must be. I found afterwards from Patty. and I was very much obliged. My mother says the orchard was always famous in her younger days. but she was quite distressed that I had owned the apples were so nearly gone. I will send you some more. was quite displeased at their being all sent away. unluckily. Oh. but they should be all kept for Jane. for Mrs. but Mrs.

in rather a low voice. . Weston. an unevenness in the floor. was tranquillity itself. "coming at least ten minutes earlier than I had calculated." Volume Two Chapter Ten The appearance of the little sitting-room as they entered. and was delighted again. "I have been assisting Miss Fairfax in trying to make her instrument stand steadily. Mrs. You find me trying to be useful. the step at the turning. intent on her pianoforte. tell me if you think I shall succeed. That she was not immediately ready. Emma joined her in all her praise. at a table near her. Pray take care. Frank Churchill. ours is rather a dark staircase-rather darker and narrower than one could wish. and trying to make her help or advise him in his work. "have not you finished it yet? you would not earn a very good livelihood as a working silversmith at this rate. most deedily occupied about her spectacles." "What!" said Mrs. she must reason herself into the power of performance. and Jane Fairfax." said he. till Jane Fairfax was quite ready to sit down to the pianoforte again. and could not but resolve never to expose them to her neighbour again. Emma did suspect to arise from the state of her nerves. I believe. was pronounced to be altogether of the highest promise. she had not yet possessed the instrument long enough to touch it without emotion. deprived of her usual employment. Bates." he replied. Weston. This was very kind of you to be persuaded to come. At last Jane began." "I have not been working uninterruptedly. "This is a pleasure. Mrs. Miss Woodhouse." He contrived that she should be seated by him. the powers of the instrument were gradually done full justice to. there is a step at the turning. You see we have been wedging one leg with paper. whatever their origin. the young man was yet able to shew a most happy countenance on seeing Emma again. Miss Smith. I am quite concerned. it was not quite firm. I was almost afraid you would be hurrying home. Busy as he was. with every proper discrimination. however. pray take care. Miss Woodhouse. and the pianoforte."Pray take care. Weston had been delighted before. standing with her back to them. Miss Smith. and Emma could not but pity such feelings. slumbering on one side of the fire. Mrs. and though the first bars were feebly given. I am sure you hit your foot. and was sufficiently employed in looking out the best baked apple for her.

I dare say. Miss Fairfax. "the person has not chosen ill. or wrote to Broadwood himself. in a voice of forced calmness. I wish I could conjecture how soon I shall make this rivet quite firm. with a smile at Emma. he went to the pianoforte. It must be all conjecture. Do not you think so?" Jane did not look round. I have the pleasure. and sometimes one conjectures wrong. and looked as if he had very little doubt and very little mercy. "I can imagine nothing with any confidence. to play something more. I suppose. She could not but hear." He shook his head with a smile. to escape a little from the latter. Bates. she could not avoid answering. to depend upon contingencies and conveniences?" He paused. hold their tongues. "How much your friends in Ireland must be enjoying your pleasure on this occasion. when hard at work." said she. if one talks at all. Soon afterwards he began again." said Frank Churchill.) of restoring your spectacles. I heard a good deal of Colonel Campbell's taste at Weymouth. sometimes one conjectures right. and begged Miss Fairfax. and wonder which will be the day."Whoever Colonel Campbell might employ. and the softness of the upper notes I am sure is exactly what he and all that party would particularly prize. What nonsense one talks. an order indefinite as to time. "mine was a random guess. but we gentlemen labourers if we get hold of a word--Miss Fairfax said something about conjecturing.--your real workmen." said Emma. that he either gave his friend very minute directions. it is done. . in a whisper. I dare say they often think of you. (to Mrs. Weston had been speaking to her at the same moment. There. "Till I have a letter from Colonel Campbell. Miss Fairfax. She was not obliged to hear. Do you imagine Colonel Campbell knows the business to be going forward just at this time?--Do you imagine it to be the consequence of an immediate commission from him." "Conjecture--aye. healed for the present. who was still sitting at it. Miss Woodhouse. the precise day of the instrument's coming to hand. "It is not fair. Mrs. Do not distress her. or that he may have sent only a general direction." He was very warmly thanked both by mother and daughter. madam.

" "I hope she does. she ought to feel it. This was all sent with the instrument." "But really. Leave shame to her. "What felicity it is to hear a tune again which has made one happy!-If I mistake not that was danced at Weymouth. yet could not help being amused. upright. If she does wrong. was not it?--He knew Miss Fairfax could have no music here." . I am not in the least ashamed of my meaning." Emma wished he would be less pointed. and much less compunction with respect to her. from such a quarter. she had less scruple in the amusement." She looked up at him for a moment. I am half ashamed. perfect Jane Fairfax was apparently cherishing very reprehensible feelings. Do you know it?--Cramer.--This amiable. but I would have given worlds-all the worlds one ever has to give--for another half-hour. "Here is something quite new to me.-Emma took the opportunity of whispering. You did not enjoy them as I did. and played something else.--let me live them over again. He took some music from a chair near the pianoforte. I honour that part of the attention particularly. you appeared tired the whole time. it shews it to have been so thoroughly from the heart. True affection only could have prompted it. one might expect. "You speak too plain. and turning to Emma.-And here are a new set of Irish melodies. nothing incomplete. That. I believe you were glad we danced no longer. and that you communicated it to me. there had been a smile of secret delight. Nothing hastily done. and when on glancing her eye towards Jane Fairfax she caught the remains of a smile. and wish I had never taken up the idea. "it will be one of the waltzes we danced last night. coloured deeply. I would have her understand me. Very thoughtful of Colonel Campbell." said he."If you are very kind. I have now a key to all her odd looks and ways. said." She played. He brought all the music to her. when she saw that with all the deep blush of consciousness. She must understand you. and they looked it over together." "I am very glad you did.

descried Mr. Knightley seemed determined to be heard in his turn. and opening the casement there. passing near the window. Quite delightful to have you all meet so!--Our little room so honoured!" She was in the adjoining chamber while she still spoke. Weston gave Emma a look of particular meaning. Knightley's attention. I think. The listeners were amused. and Mrs. How is she to-day? Tell me how Miss Fairfax is. immediately called Mr. and every syllable of their conversation was as distinctly heard by the others. But Emma still shook her head in steady scepticism." resumed Miss Bates. for most resolutely and commandingly did he say. He cut her short with. "Mr." "I do not see much sign of it. and Mr. We were just in time. do come in." And Miss Bates was obliged to give a direct answer before he would hear her in any thing else. I thank you. it would give you all cold. but particularly your niece." So began Miss Bates. "So obliged to you!--so very much obliged to you for the carriage. Cole was saying the other day she wanted something from Kingston."She is not entirely without it. I dare say he will come in when he knows who is here. How is Miss Fairfax?--I hope she caught no cold last night. I will not open the window here. Kingston--are you?--Mrs." Shortly afterwards Miss Bates. Can I do anything for you?" "Oh! dear. Miss Bates?--I want to inquire after you all. So obliged to you for the carriage last night. Pray come in. just to thank him. She is playing Robin Adair at this moment--his favourite. Knightley I declare!--I must speak to him if possible. You will find some friends here. my mother just ready for us. Knightley on horse-back not far off." . "How d' ye do?--how d'ye do?--Very well. as if it had passed within the same apartment. but I can go into my mother's room you know. "I am going to Kingston. "How is your niece.

But do come in. and it would have been a pity not to have mentioned. But I thought he would have staid now. You said you had a great many. if your friends have any gratitude. no." "No."Mrs. Frank Churchill." "Oh! do come in. they will say something pretty loud about you and me in return. I thank you. Frank Churchill are hearing every thing that passes. your room is full enough. so kind as to call to hear the new pianoforte." "Oh! very delightful indeed. And (raising his voice still more) I do not see why Miss Fairfax should not be mentioned too. and Mrs. . I am so sorry!--Oh! Mr. (returning to the room. I must get on to Kingston as fast as I can. I thank you. He never can bear to be thanked. how extremely pleasant." "Well." said he. You should not have done it. not now. "for five minutes. and come in. something of consequence-so shocked!--Jane and I are both so shocked about the apples!" "What is the matter now?" "To think of your sending us all your store apples. Frank Churchill too!--Quite delightful. for I suppose Miss Woodhouse and Mr." "And here is Mrs. I can say nothing less. William Larkins mentioned it here. indeed you should not. perhaps. . and now you have not one left. Knightley. They will be so very happy to see you. in England. Ah! he is off. Hodges may well be angry. . in a deliberating manner. one moment more. Do put up your horse at the Crown. so many friends!" "No. Cole has servants to send. without exception. I think Miss Fairfax dances very well. Weston and Mr. Now. Who do you think is here?-Miss Woodhouse and Miss Smith. and hear the pianoforte. Weston is the very best country-dance player." "Oh! Mr. I could not stay two minutes." "Well. Knightley. . We really are so shocked! Mrs.) I have not been able to succeed. Can I do any thing for you?" "No. I will call another day. but I cannot stay to hear it. Well. I never saw any thing equal to it.--Did you ever see such dancing?-Was not it delightful?--Miss Woodhouse and Mr. what a delightful party last night.

felt--it must be a very heavy set that does not ask for more. without being at any ball of any description. `Can I do any thing for you at Kingston?' said he. His first proposition and request. and Mr. Cole's should be finished there--that the same party should be collected. before they set off for Randalls. many months successively. that Mrs. the door was open. Weston and her companion taking leave also. because you know. Frank Churchill had danced once at Highbury. But still she had inclination enough for shewing people again how delightfully Mr. that it was a little the largest. ." "Yes. "we heard his kind offers. . must you be going?--You seem but just come--so very obliging of you. so much of the morning was perceived to be gone. Frank's was the first idea." "Oh! yes. without any of the wicked aids of vanity--to assist him first in pacing out the room they were in to see what it could be made to hold--and then in taking the dimensions of the other parlour. Instances have been known of young people passing many. was passed by the two young people in schemes on the subject. He is going to Kingston. Frank Churchill and Miss Woodhouse danced--for doing that in which she need not blush to compare herself with Jane Fairfax--and even for simple dancing itself. and no material injury accrue either to body or mind. and longed to dance again. and the most solicitous for accommodation and appearance. Weston could say of their exactly equal size. though slightly. Volume Two Chapter Eleven It may be possible to do without dancing entirely. the visit had already lasted long. I dare say you might. Woodhouse was persuaded to spend with his daughter at Randalls.--but when a beginning is made-when the felicities of rapid motion have once been. could allow themselves only to walk with the two young ladies to Hartfield gates. so I just mentioned. . in the hope of discovering. Knightley cannot stop." Emma found it really time to be at home. my dear. Oh! Miss Woodhouse. . Weston entered into the idea with thorough enjoyment. and on examining watches. He asked me if he could do any thing. in spite of all that Mr.Mr. and his the greatest zeal in pursuing it. Mr. we heard every thing. and the last half-hour of an evening which Mr." said Jane. . met with the readiest acquiescence. Knightley spoke loud. that the dance begun at Mr. for the lady was the best judge of the difficulties. . You must have heard every thing to be sure. and the window was open. . and the same musician engaged.

. that will be quite enough for pleasure. and dance across the passage?" It seemed the best scheme. "Oh! no. Mrs. young Cox." But soon it came to be on one side." had been repeated many times over. "it would be the extreme of imprudence. and the two Miss Coxes five. and another of very old acquaintance who could not be left out. and the interesting employment had followed." said he. Five couple are nothing. Mr. It will not do to invite five couple. indeed. Weston most willingly undertook to play as long as they could wish to dance. Weston. "Might not they use both rooms. "But will there be good room for five couple?--I really do not think there will. So would poor little Harriet. It can be allowable only as the thought of the moment. and Miss Fairfax. you would be quite laid up. "And after all. Mrs. It made him so very unhappy. "You and Miss Smith. Weston naming one family of cousins who must be included. "And there will be the two Gilberts. on the score of health. and must be invited with the rest. Knightley. A word was put in for a second young Cox. and for five couple there will be plenty of room. and yet it was not so good but that many of them wanted a better. Somebody else believed Mrs. will be three. I could not bear it for Emma!--Emma is not strong. Yes. and portioning out the indispensable division of space to every couple.and Mrs. She would catch a dreadful cold. my father. that it could not be persevered in." On another. and Miss Fairfax. if she had been asked. besides Mr. will be three. The doors of the two rooms were just opposite each other. Emma said it would be awkward. it became a certainty that the five couple would be at least ten. You and Miss Smith. Woodhouse opposed it earnestly. Gilbert would have danced the other evening. and the two Miss Coxes five. So you would all. of reckoning up exactly who there would be. and Mr. and at last. and a very interesting speculation in what possible manner they could be disposed of. when one thinks seriously about it. five couple are not enough to make it worth while to stand up." Somebody said that Miss Gilbert was expected at her brother's. and myself. Weston was in distress about the supper.

" Emma demurred. you have the art of giving pictures in a few words.do not let them talk of such a wild thing. Ten couple may stand here very well. It would be a disappointment to my father--and altogether--I do not know that--I am rather of opinion that ten couple might stand here very well." Emma perceived that the nature of his gallantry was a little self-willed. "I agree with you exactly. and still he ended with. Do not tell his father. and that he would rather oppose than lose the pleasure of dancing with her. but that young man is not quite the thing." said he. and with such good-will on Frank Churchill's part. but she took the compliment. and the first scheme of dancing only in the room they were in resorted to again. was now endeavoured to be made out quite enough for ten. He has been opening the doors very often this evening. however." "No. but indeed he is not quite the thing!" Mrs. no. the passage plan given up. Every door was now closed. and keeping them open very inconsiderately. "We allowed unnecessary room. Exquisite. "We were too magnificent. He does not think of the draught." said she. Pray do not let them talk of it." he gravely replied. and said every thing in her power to do it away. having proceeded so far. one is unwilling to give the matter up. "It would be a crowd--a sad crowd. It would be dreadful to be standing so close! Nothing can be farther from pleasure than to be dancing in a crowd--and a crowd in a little room!" "There is no denying it. and forgave the rest. Weston was sorry for such a charge. and try to understand the value . that the space which a quarter of an hour before had been deemed barely sufficient for five couple." But still he went on measuring. "it was very bad. She knew the importance of it. I do not mean to set you against him. it might have been worth while to pause and consider. "you are quite unreasonable. That young man (speaking lower) is very thoughtless. quite exquisite!--Still. Had she intended ever to marry him. and what could be worse than dancing without space to turn in?" "Very true." he replied. A crowd in a little room--Miss Woodhouse. "I think there will be very tolerable room for ten couple.

in either of the Randalls rooms. shall be most happy--It seems the only improvement that could be. he was quite amiable enough. and not a less grateful welcome than at Randalls. I think it admirable. May I hope for the honour of your hand for the two first dances of this little projected ball. never properly aired. Papa. he can promise them. They would catch worse colds at the Crown than anywhere. if Mr." he almost immediately began. Weston do not. A room at an inn was always damp and dangerous. Is not it a good exchange?--You consent-I hope you consent?" "It appears to me a plan that nobody can object to. I hope. and Mrs. If they must dance. Better accommodations. they had better dance at Randalls. and the character of his temper. and I trust you cannot. Before the middle of the next day. Woodhouse see no objection. farther representations were necessary to make it acceptable. being quite new. Oh! you were perfectly right! Ten couple. This is what we all feel." . as far as I can answer for myself. or fit to be inhabited.of his preference. "Well. which waits only your approbation to be acted upon. my father hopes his friends will be so kind as to visit him there. "No. Miss Woodhouse. he thought it very far from an improvement--a very bad plan-much worse than the other. and he entered the room with such an agreeable smile as certified the continuance of the scheme. he was at Hartfield. Weston sees no objection to it. and. "your inclination for dancing has not been quite frightened away. provided you are satisfied. but for all the purposes of their acquaintance. It is his own idea. It soon appeared that he came to announce an improvement. before it was fully comprehended. by the terrors of my father's little rooms. and then. He had never been in the room at the Crown in his life--did not know the people who kept it by sight. if you and Mr. not at Randalls. do you not think it an excellent improvement?" She was obliged to repeat and explain it. but was too anxious for securing any thing to like to yield. would have been insufferable!--Dreadful!--I felt how right you were the whole time. Mrs. but at the Crown Inn?" "The Crown!" "Yes.--Oh! no--a very bad plan. to be given. I bring a new proposal on the subject:--a thought of my father's.

That is a great thing. which (as you well know. However. and see what can be done. Perry is extremely concerned when any of us are ill." "Open the windows!--but surely." "But. If I could be sure of the rooms being thoroughly aired--but is . Churchill. We shall have no occasion to open the windows at all--not once the whole evening. my dear. sir?--Bless me! I never could have supposed it. sir) does the mischief. "you are very much mistaken if you suppose Mr. rather warmly. Perry to be that sort of character. we may talk it over." said Frank Churchill." "From the very circumstance of its being larger. Perry might have reason to regret the alteration. sir. Mr. Not that James ever complains. and throw up a sash. There is no hurry at all."I was going to observe. neither your father nor Mrs. If Mr. Mr. They will be so near their own stable. but nobody else could." "Have you indeed. papa. Weston (poor Miss Taylor that was) would suffer it. But I do not understand how the room at the Crown can be safer for you than your father's house. Dancing with open windows!--I am sure. I have often known it done myself." "Sir. without its being suspected. But I live out of the world. but it is right to spare our horses when we can. and am often astonished at what I hear. my time is so limited--" "Oh!" interrupted Emma. If it can be contrived to be at the Crown. nobody would think of opening the windows at Randalls." "So they will. letting in cold air upon heated bodies. and. Weston will be so obliging as to call here one morning. and it is that dreadful habit of opening the windows." "Ah! sir--but a thoughtless young person will sometimes step behind a window-curtain. it will be very convenient for the horses. One cannot resolve upon them in a hurry." said Mr. Nobody could be so imprudent! I never heard of such a thing. sir. "that one of the great recommendations of this change would be the very little danger of any body's catching cold-so much less danger at the Crown than at Randalls! Mr. and Mrs. "there will be plenty of time for talking every thing over. when we come to talk it over--but these sort of things require a good deal of consideration. this does make a difference. unfortunately. perhaps. sir. Woodhouse.

"examining the capabilities of the house. There were Mr. I left them there and came on to Hartfield. but the measles are a dreadful complaint. Weston." "My father and Mrs. the two young people set off together without delay for the Crown. Do not you remember what Mr." "I can answer for every thing of that nature. sir. papa!--Now you must be satisfied--Our own dear Mrs. Weston's care. so many years ago. and hoping you might be persuaded to join them and give your advice on the spot. Stokes to be trusted? I doubt it. He came four times a day for a week. Weston undertakes to direct the whole. Perry did say so. Mr. you are too particular. it was a very good sort--which was our great comfort. and her father. "Emma.Mrs. Mrs. because it will be under Mrs. you need not have any fears. who is carefulness itself. and he. she. We never see any thing of it on our club-nights. in some little distress. "this paper is worse than I expected. that is." said Frank Churchill. impatient for your opinion. He said. "What does all that signify? You will see nothing of it by candlelight. she will send for Perry. very true. I was desired to say so from both. even by sight. engaging to think it all over while she was gone. very busy and very happy in their different way. Poor little Emma! You were very bad with the measles. and Mrs. Weston are at the Crown at this moment. I shall never forget it." . you would have been very bad." Emma was most happy to be called to such a council. It would be the greatest pleasure to them. Look! in places you see it is dreadfully dirty. I do not know her.' How often have I heard you speak of it as such a compliment to her!" "Aye. They can do nothing satisfactorily without you. I hope whenever poor Isabella's little ones have the measles. It will be as clean as Randalls by candlelight." said her husband. Weston." said she. if you could allow me to attend you there. Perry said." "There. sir. when I had the measles? `If Miss Taylor undertakes to wrap Miss Emma up." "My dear. and the wainscot is more yellow and forlorn than any thing I could have imagined. finding every thing perfect. but for Perry's great attention. from the first. delighted to see her and receive her approbation.

set out in the little room. if cards were conveniently voted unnecessary by their four selves. was calling out. and a long awkward passage must be gone through to get at it." One perplexity. suppers had not been in question. for instance. "Men never know when things are dirty or not. and not the least draught from the stairs. She then took another line of expediency. I do not wonder at you.The ladies here probably exchanged looks which meant. A private dance.. and neither Emma nor the gentlemen could tolerate the prospect of being miserably crowded at supper. It regarded a supper-room. was the only addition. If one could ascertain what the chief of them--the Coles. without sitting down to supper. which the gentlemen did not disdain. and a small card-room adjoining. Mrs. very true. walking briskly with long steps through the passage. Weston was afraid of draughts for the young people in that passage." And Mr." and the gentlemen perhaps thought each to himself. "I do not think it is so very small. arose. but it was at the other end of the house. observed. Shall I call upon them? Or Miss Bates? She is still nearer. "Women will have their little nonsenses and needless cares. They are not far off." "Yes. Weston. Weston proposed having no regular supper. I think . This made a difficulty. was pronounced an infamous fraud upon the rights of men and women. you know. "very true. Weston at the same time. "one could know which arrangement our guests in general would like best. Mrs. or. my dear. Weston must not speak of it again." said Mrs. and Mrs. and looking into the doubtful room. What was to be done? This card-room would be wanted as a card-room now. At the time of the ballroom's being built. still was it not too small for any comfortable supper? Another room of much better size might be secured for the purpose." "I wish. merely sandwiches. however. To do what would be most generally pleasing must be our object--if one could but tell what that would be. but that was scouted as a wretched suggestion. It is a mere nothing after all. "You talk a great deal of the length of this passage. We shall not be many.-And I do not know whether Miss Bates is not as likely to understand the inclinations of the rest of the people as any body. You want your neighbours' opinions. &c." cried Frank.

Fetch Miss Bates." Here Mr. and let us end the matter at once. gave it his decided approbation.--Go and fetch Miss Bates. you know. tea and supper. and her elegant niece. "The old lady! No. so extremely amusing! I am very fond of hearing Miss Bates talk." said Mrs. sir. Weston." "But she is so amusing. Stokes." "Both sir! Can the old lady?" . "She will be all delight and gratitude. and on hearing what was proposed. had examined the passage again. Weston joined them. I see no advantage in consulting Miss Bates." said Emma. in speculation at least. made themselves. I will endeavour to persuade them both. Frank. But fetch them both. Weston rather hesitating. but she will tell you nothing. was perfectly smooth. and here ended the difficulties of decision." "Oh! I beg your pardon. to be sure. lights and music. attending the short.-Every body invited. and I do not know a properer person for shewing us how to do away difficulties.we do want a larger council. All the minor arrangements of table and chair. She will not even listen to your questions. And I need not bring the whole family. the young lady. neat. Weston and Mrs. Suppose I go and invite Miss Bates to join us?" "Well--if you please. if you bring the aunt without the niece. Frank. and found the evils of it much less than she had supposed before-indeed very trifling. "if you think she will be of any use. Invite them both. Frank had already written to Enscombe to propose staying a few days beyond his fortnight. .--Mrs. was certainly to come. All the rest. like a sweet-tempered woman and a good wife. . ." "You will get nothing to the purpose from Miss Bates. Long before he reappeared. I shall think you a great blockhead. We are growing a little too nice. I did not immediately recollect. I am sure. She will enjoy the scheme. do." And away he ran. She is a standing lesson of how to be happy. Undoubtedly if you wish it. "Aye. brisk-moving aunt. or were left as mere trifles to be settled at any time between Mrs.

of its being all in vain. Enscombe however was gracious. To her voluntary communications Emma could get no more approving reply. could not but please. and for another half-hour they were all walking to and fro. and all in happy enjoyment of the future. between the different rooms. but that they shall not chuse pleasures for me. if not in word. And a delightful dance it was to be. As a counsellor she was not wanted. Either because he did not dance himself. and I will keep as much awake as I can. indeed--I never look at it-- . the great risk.-Oh! yes. or affording him any future amusement. in spite of Mr. warm and incessant. than. All was safe and prosperous. or because the plan had been formed without his being consulted. proceeding and hoping in uncertainty--at the risk-in her opinion.which could not possibly be refused. I confess. for. "He has asked her. he seemed resolved that it should not interest him. nor without her overhearing Mr. Weston's confidence. and for a few days they must be planning. determined against its exciting any present curiosity. I knew he would!" Volume Two Chapter Twelve One thing only was wanting to make the prospect of the ball completely satisfactory to Emma--its being fixed for a day within the granted term of Frank Churchill's stay in Surry. nothing could be properly ready till the third week were entered on. but as an approver. That's right.-Pleasure in seeing dancing!--not I. Emma. But this was not judged feasible. Most cordially. some suggesting. "Very well. when Miss Bates arrived. I could not refuse. she could not think it so very impossible that the Churchills might not allow their nephew to remain a day beyond his fortnight. Knightley's provoking indifference about it. but it was not opposed. If the Westons think it worth while to be at all this trouble for a few hours of noisy entertainment. began to adopt as the next vexation Mr. my dear. looking over William Larkins's week's account. much rather. did she agree that it must. being now certain of her ball. The party did not break up without Emma's being positively secured for the two first dances by the hero of the evening. I have nothing to say against it. I must be there. and as the removal of one solicitude generally makes way for another. The preparations must take their time.) she was truly welcome. Weston whisper to his wife. but I would rather be at home. gracious in fact. His wish of staying longer evidently did not please. Her approbation. at once general and minute. (a much safer character. some attending.

it was inevitable. Knightley." This wretched note was the finale of Emma's breakfast.-"Oh! Miss Woodhouse. Weston was quite mistaken in that surmise. to lessen his repugnance. but now she was too ill to trifle. after breakfast. though from her usual unwillingness to give pain. It made her animated--open hearted-she voluntarily said. they never occurred but for her own convenience. but lament and exclaim. Weston. "that he could only allow himself time to hurry to Highbury. and that he might be expected at Hartfield very soon. and must entreat him to set off for Enscombe without delay. there was no doing any thing. When once it had been read. What a disappointment it would be! I do look forward to it. I believe. with very great pleasure. though without feeling any real alarm for his aunt. There was a great deal of friendly and of compassionate attachment on his side--but no love. He knew her illnesses. No!--she was more and more convinced that Mrs. Alas! there was soon no leisure for quarrelling with Mr. I hope nothing may happen to prevent the ball. The loss of the ball--the loss of the young man-- . A letter arrived from Mr. she had not mentioned it. she had been in a very suffering state (so said her husband) when writing to her nephew two days before. he was not guided by her feelings in reprobating the ball. Mrs. He must be gone within a few hours. and constant habit of never thinking of herself. It was not in compliment to Jane Fairfax however that he was so indifferent. and it made her quite angry. As to his going. instantly. in a note from Mrs. Churchill to urge his nephew's instant return. I own. or so indignant." It was not to oblige Jane Fairfax therefore that he would have preferred the society of William Larkins.--Fine dancing.I do not know who does." This Emma felt was aimed at her. Churchill was unwell-far too unwell to do without him. Those who are standing by are usually thinking of something very different. and take leave of the few friends there whom he could suppose to feel any interest in him. like virtue. must be its own reward. for she enjoyed the thought of it to an extraordinary degree. Weston added. Mrs. Two days of joyful security were immediately followed by the over-throw of every thing. The substance of this letter was forwarded to Emma.

and when rousing himself.and all that the young man might be feeling!--It was too wretched!-Such a delightful evening as it would have been!--Every body so happy! and she and her partner the happiest!--"I said it would be so. and wanted to know how she was treated." "Ah!--(shaking his head)--the uncertainty of when I may be able to return!--I shall try for it with a zeal!--It will be the object of all my thoughts and cares!--and if my uncle and aunt go to town this spring--but I am afraid--they did not stir last spring-I am afraid it is a custom gone for ever. leave-taking is the worst." "If I can come again. it was shocking to have dear Emma disappointed." Emma looked graciously." was the only consolation. His dejection was most evident. I would much rather have been merry than wise. "This will not be your only visit to Randalls." "Our poor ball must be quite given up. I am very sorry to be right in this instance. but if this reflected at all upon his impatience. "Of all horrid things." "Ah! that ball!--why did we wait for any thing?--why not seize the pleasure at once?--How often is happiness destroyed by preparation." "But you will come again. Churchill's illness. He sat really lost in thought for the first few minutes. but they would all be safer at home. why are you always so right?" "Indeed. Her father's feelings were quite distinct.--Oh! Miss Woodhouse. we are still to have our ball." said Emma. his sorrowful look and total want of spirits when he did come might redeem him. and as for the ball. He thought principally of Mrs. He felt the going away almost too much to speak of it. Do not forget your engagement. foolish preparation!--You told us it would be so. it was only to say. "Such a fortnight as it has been!" he continued. "every day more precious and more delightful than the day before!--every day making . My father depends on it. Emma was ready for her visitor some time before he appeared.

"In short. "And you must be off this very morning?" "Yes. and trying to understand the manner. walked to a window. Emma was convinced that it had been so. "I will venture to ask. It seemed like the forerunner of something absolutely serious. She heard him sigh. probably reflecting on what she had said. It was natural for him to feel that he had cause to sigh. passing the door. Miss Woodhouse--I think you can hardly be quite without suspicion"-He looked at her. I thought it better. my father is to join me here: we shall walk back together. She hardly knew what to say. She believed he was looking at her. whether you did not come a little doubtfully at first? Do not we rather surpass your expectations? I am sure we do.me less fit to bear any other place. then"-He was silent. that one must laugh at. in the hope of putting it by. He could not believe her to be encouraging him. therefore. You would not have been so long in coming. . argumentative mind might have strengthened yours. She was out. and though denying the sentiment. "You are quite in the right. "perhaps. then"-He hesitated." said Emma." said he. as if wanting to read her thoughts. and I must be off immediately. I am almost afraid that every moment will bring him." "Not five minutes to spare even for your friends Miss Fairfax and Miss Bates? How unlucky! Miss Bates's powerful. and was detained by Miss Bates's being absent. laughing. Happy those." He laughed rather consciously. She is a woman that one may. if you had had a pleasant idea of Highbury. Forcing herself to speak. It was a right thing to do. but that one would not wish to slight. it was most natural to pay your visit. I am sure you did not much expect to like us. who can remain at Highbury!" "As you do us such ample justice now." "Yes--I have called there. and I felt it impossible not to wait till she came in. got up. which she did not wish. she calmly said. I went in for three minutes. It was better to pay my visit.

and he sat down again. or what constancy of affection he might be subject to. "It was time to go. a conscious preference of herself. and as incapable of procrastinating any evil that was inevitable.A few awkward moments passed. joined to all the rest. My regard for Hartfield is most warm"-He stopt again. and the door had soon shut out Frank Churchill. but at present she could not doubt his having a decidedly warm admiration. if his father had not made his appearance? Mr. and the necessity of exertion made him composed. could not but agree. Mr. Oh! the blessing of a female correspondent. made her think that . and feeling it too much. and this persuasion. She has been so kind as to promise it. "It was something to feel that all the rest of my time might be given to Hartfield." and the young man. and forlorn must be the sinking from it into the common course of Hartfield days. and who can say how it might have ended. though he might and did sigh. rose again. They had been meeting almost every day since his arrival. It was a sad change. his manners! It had been a very happy fortnight." said he. always alert when business was to be done. To complete every other recommendation. and Emma felt so sorry to part. Short had been the notice--short their meeting. Weston. Certainly his being at Randalls had given great spirit to the last two weeks--indescribable spirit. the expectation of seeing him which every morning had brought. I shall hear of every thing that is going on among you.-He was more in love with her than Emma had supposed. said. A very few minutes more. when one is really interested in the absent!--she will tell me every thing. and seemed quite embarrassed. completed the present trial. Woodhouse soon followed. Weston to correspond with me. however. the assurance of his attentions. he had almost told her that he loved her. "that is my chief consolation. and foresaw so great a loss to their little society from his absence as to begin to be afraid of being too sorry. his liveliness. "I shall hear about you all. I have engaged Mrs. and in a more determined manner said. In her letters I shall be at dear Highbury again. he was gone. a very earnest "Good-bye." closed the speech. as of foreseeing any that was doubtful. was another point. What strength." A very friendly shake of the hand. the idea. to take leave.

and. forming a thousand amusing schemes for the progress and close of their attachment. she could yet imagine him to have faults. and with considerable kindness added. she was very often thinking of him." Mr. stupidity. that she might know how he was. Knightley will be happy. and quite impatient for a letter. however. that had the ball taken place. in spite of every previous determination against it. and it was charity to impute some of her unbecoming indifference to the languor of ill-health. and Mrs. "I certainly must. she could not admit herself to be unhappy. and afterwards. to be less disposed for employment than usual. greater pleasure than ever in seeing Mr. She had great pleasure in hearing Frank Churchill talked of. He could not say that he was sorry on his own account. if not for Frank Churchill. I should be the oddest creature in the world if I were not--for a few weeks at least. At first. but Mr. Emma. and very steadily. and. But. Volume Two Chapter Thirteen Emma continued to entertain no doubt of her being in love. for his sake. she was still busy and cheerful. as she sat drawing or working. but little. this feeling of every thing's being dull and insipid about the house!-I must be in love.she must be a little in love with him. fancying interesting dialogues. who have so few opportunities of dancing. you are really out of luck. but when they did meet. She had been particularly unwell. Knightley. suffering from headache to a degree. Well! evil to some is always good to others. after the first morning. though thinking of him so much. which made her aunt declare." said she. on the other hand. how were his spirits. and inventing elegant letters. I shall have many fellow-mourners for the ball. and farther. that he was sorry for the disappointment of the others. you are very much out of luck!" It was some days before she saw Jane Fairfax. however. but he said. the conclusion of every imaginary declaration on his side was that she . Her ideas only varied as to the how much. she thought it was a good deal. how was his aunt. "You. He may spend the evening with his dear William Larkins now if he likes. and what was the chance of his coming to Randalls again this spring. weariness. and. she did not think Jane could have attended it. this disinclination to sit down and employ myself. pleasing as he was. "This sensation of listlessness. his very cheerful look would have contradicted him if he had. Weston. nor. to judge of her honest regret in this woeful change. shewed no triumphant happiness. her composure was odious.

giving the particulars of his journey and of his feelings. in short.--It would be most inexcusable to do otherwise. and think she had undervalued their strength. When she became sensible of this. as my own mind is quite made up. and respect which was natural and honourable. So much the better." said she. is there any allusion to making a sacrifice. but I do not know that I expect it will. makes me thankful that my happiness is not more deeply involved.-"In not one of all my clever replies. "He is undoubtedly very much in love--every thing denotes it--very much in love indeed!--and when he comes again. if he had believed me at all to share his feelings. for in spite of her previous and fixed determination never to quit her father. It was a long. I am quite enough in love. my delicate negatives. and I shall have been let off easily. she was equally contented with her view of his feelings. never to marry. Not that I imagine he can think I have been encouraging him hitherto.-Every consideration of the subject. it struck her that she could not be very much in love. Emma had the perusal of it. Every thing tender and charming was to mark their parting." When his letter to Mrs. however. it was the language of real feeling towards Mrs. No. and the transition . with spirit and precision. Could he have thought himself encouraged. This is in the supposition of his attachment continuing what it now is. and describing every thing exterior and local that could be supposed attractive. for they say every body is in love once in their lives.refused him. I do not look upon him to be quite the sort of man-I do not altogether build upon his steadiness or constancy. but I can imagine them rather changeable. it will be a good thing over. well-written letter.-His feelings are warm.-Still. Weston arrived. but still they were to part. I do suspect that he is not really necessary to my happiness. and she read it with a degree of pleasure and admiration which made her at first shake her head over her own sensations. I must be on my guard not to encourage it. "I do not find myself making any use of the word sacrifice. he would not have been so wretched. I certainly will not persuade myself to feel more than I do. if his affection continue.--I shall do very well again after a little while--and then. I must be on my guard. Weston. his looks and language at parting would have been different. Their affection was always to subside into friendship. No suspicious flourishes now of apology or concern." Upon the whole. a strong attachment certainly must produce more of a struggle than she could foresee in her own feelings. gratitude. expressing all the affection. I should be sorry to be more.

Churchill was recovering. it would be advantageous and delightful indeed. though it might be wise to let the fancy touch it seldom. His recollection of Harriet.--Harriet undoubtedly was greatly his inferior in understanding." This. Her intentions were unchanged. for Miss Woodhouse's beautiful little friend. fix a time for coming to Randalls again. As Frank Churchill's arrival had succeeded Mr. "I must not dwell upon it. Gratifying. the contrast between the places in some of the first blessings of social life was just enough touched on to shew how keenly it was felt." suggested to her the idea of Harriet's succeeding her in his affections." said she. and the words which clothed it. or a remembrance of what she had said. and never without a something of pleasing connexion. . she yet could discern the effect of her influence and acknowledge the greatest compliment perhaps of all conveyed. and in the very last time of its meeting her eye. Pray make my excuses and adieus to her. for evil in that quarter was at hand. and he dared not yet. she yet found. Was it impossible?--No. that she could still do without the writer. Harriet was remembered only from being her friend. But stranger things have happened. but he had been very much struck with the loveliness of her face and the warm simplicity of her manner. that it had not added any lasting warmth.--"I must not think of it. Her resolution of refusal only grew more interesting by the addition of a scheme for his subsequent consolation and happiness. and that he must learn to do without her. as you know. however. Miss Woodhouse appeared more than once. when it was folded up and returned to Mrs. was all for herself.--For Harriet. Emma could not doubt. either a compliment to her taste. and stimulative as was the letter in the material part. Mrs. Elton's engagement in the conversation of Highbury. I know the danger of indulging such speculations." It was well to have a comfort in store on Harriet's behalf. and all the probabilities of circumstance and connexion were in her favour.from Highbury to Enscombe. even in his own imagination. His information and prospects as to Enscombe were neither worse nor better than had been anticipated. and when we cease to care for each other as we do now.--The charm of her own name was not wanting. its sentiments. and how much more might have been said but for the restraints of propriety. Compressed into the very lowest vacant corner were these words--"I had not a spare moment on Tuesday. the "beautiful little friend. unadorned as it was by any such broad wreath of gallantry. Weston. it will be the means of confirming us in that sort of true disinterested friendship which I can already look forward to with pleasure.

a habit of self-command in you. an attention to propriety. because for your own sake rather. I know. Elton's concerns were assuming the most irresistible form. and Frank Churchill was forgotten. she had been willing to hope. Harriet listened submissively. I would wish it to be done. Elton's marrying. that Harriet had a right to all her ingenuity and all her patience. Emma grew sick at the sound. At last Emma attacked her on another ground. Elton. Mr. These are the motives which I . an endeavour to avoid the suspicions of others.--His wedding-day was named. It was all my doing. and Harriet's mind. is the strongest reproach you can make me. Weston's ball in view at least. exert yourself Harriet for my sake. for the sake of what is more important than my comfort. so now upon Frank Churchill's disappearance. and said "it was very true-it was just as Miss Woodhouse described--it was not worth while to think about them--and she would not think about them any longer" but no change of subject could avail. a consideration of what is your duty. I assure you. You could not give me a greater reproof for the mistake I fell into. Emma continued. She had had three weeks of happy exemption from Mr. Do not imagine me in danger of forgetting it. With Mr. and all. bell-ringing. "Your allowing yourself to be so occupied and so unhappy about Mr. Elton and his bride. I have not forgotten it. but it was heavy work to be for ever convincing without producing any effect. and restore your tranquillity. Harriet.as the latest interest had entirely borne down the first. Elton for my sake.--Deceived myself. for ever agreed to. Mr. there had been a great deal of insensibility to other things. There was hardly time to talk over the first letter from Enscombe before "Mr. Poor Harriet was in a flutter of spirits which required all the reasonings and soothings and attentions of every kind that Emma could give." Harriet felt this too much to utter more than a few words of eager exclamation. "I have not said. talk less of Mr. I did very miserably deceive you-and it will be a painful reflection to me for ever. had been lately gaining strength. Elton and his bride" was in every body's mouth. without being able to make their opinions the same. He would soon be among them again. but it was now too evident that she had not attained such a state of composure as could stand against the actual approach--new carriage. and the next half-hour saw her as anxious and restless about the Eltons as before. Emma felt that she could not do too much for her. to save your health and credit. think less.

nor valued her affection so highly before. to settle whether she were very pretty indeed. Emma had feelings.--Harriet is my superior in all the charm and all the felicity it gives. open manner.have been pressing on you. Elton was first seen at church: but though devotion might be interrupted." said she afterwards to herself. curiosity could not be satisfied by a bride in a pew. Oh! the coldness of a Jane Fairfax!--Harriet is worth a hundred such--And for a wife-a sensible man's wife--it is invaluable. "There is nothing to be compared to it. for attraction. still remained powerful enough to prompt to what was right and support her in it very tolerably. whom she really loved extremely. and it must be left for the visits in form which were then to be paid. They are very important--and sorry I am that you cannot feel them sufficiently to act upon them. or not pretty at all. longest-sighted. "There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart. who have been the best friend I ever had in my life-Want gratitude to you!--Nobody is equal to you!--I care for nobody as I do for you!--Oh! Miss Woodhouse. but happy the man who changes Emma for Harriet!" Volume Two Chapter Fourteen Mrs. made her wretched for a while. less of curiosity than of pride or propriety." This appeal to her affections did more than all the rest. with an affectionate. made Emma feel that she had never loved Harriet so well. I want you to save yourself from greater pain. My being saved from pain is a very secondary consideration. Dear Harriet!--I would not change you for the clearest-headed. I mention no names. The idea of wanting gratitude and consideration for Miss Woodhouse. . Warmth and tenderness of heart. will beat all the clearness of head in the world. It is tenderness of heart which makes my dear father so generally beloved--which gives Isabella all her popularity. how ungrateful I have been!" Such expressions. or only rather pretty. Perhaps I may sometimes have felt that Harriet would not forget what was due--or rather what would be kind by me. to make her resolve on not being the last to pay her respects. "You. best-judging female breathing. I am sure it will.-I have it not--but I know how to prize and respect it. and when the violence of grief was comforted away. assisted as they were by every thing that look and manner could do.

but she suspected that there was no elegance. The woman was better off. and to be as much affectedly. without recollecting. Elton was in being in the same room at once with the woman he had just married. and the privilege of bashfulness. but the man had only his own good sense to depend on. charades. beyond the nothing-meaning terms of being "elegantly dressed. "Well.--ease. his manners did not appear--but no. Miss Woodhouse. Elton. and horrible blunders. nor voice. and the woman whom he had been expected to marry. She would not be in a hurry to find fault. a stranger. and it was not to be supposed that poor Harriet should not be recollecting too.and she made a point of Harriet's going with her. to lace up her boot. her face not unpretty. a bride. Compliments. that Emma would not allow herself entirely to form an opinion of the lady.-She was almost sure that for a young woman. A thousand vexatious thoughts would recur." said Harriet." .) what do you think of her?-Is not she very charming?" There was a little hesitation in Emma's answer. She could not enter the house again. but she behaved very well. and was only rather pale and silent. were elegant. and there was so much embarrassment and occupation of mind to shorten it. Her person was rather good. nor air. could not be in the same room to which she had with such vain artifice retreated three months ago. and on no account to give one. quite beautiful. but neither feature. and very pleasing. and when she considered how peculiarly unlucky poor Mr. nor manner. and a man had need be all grace to acquit himself well through it. she must allow him to have the right to look as little wise. As for Mr. It was an awkward ceremony at any time to be receiving wedding visits. she might have the assistance of fine clothes. Emma thought at least it would turn out so. "Oh! yes--very--a very pleasing young woman." "I think her beautiful. there was too much ease. and after waiting in vain for her friend to begin." She did not really like her. she would not permit a hasty or a witty word from herself about his manners. the woman he had wanted to marry. (with a gentle sigh. Miss Woodhouse. "Well. when they had quitted the house. The visit was of course short. that the worst of the business might be gone through as soon as possible. and as little really easy as could be. but not elegance.

Elton. If not wise or refined herself. "and well she might." "Yes. it might be fairly supposed from her easy conceit. The rich brother-in-law near Bristol was the pride of the alliance. and thinking much of her own importance. pert and familiar." "I am not at all surprized that he should have fallen in love." "Perhaps she might. sighing again. . From Harriet's happening not to be at Hartfield. she would have connected him with those who were. Elton was a vain woman.--but being married. and could composedly attend to her. but Miss Hawkins. nobody could ever have a better. and thought this the best offer she was likely to have. is such a comfort!-She does seem a charming young woman. Well. indeed. and her father's being present to engage Mr. Happy creature! He called her `Augusta. it is quite a different thing. Harriet would have been a better match. that if not foolish she was ignorant."--a comparison of Hartfield to Maple Grove.' How delightful!" When the visit was returned. that all her notions were drawn from one set of people." said Harriet earnestly. I can sit and admire him now without any great misery. I do not think I shall mind seeing them again. Miss Hawkins perhaps wanted a home. "I dare say she was very much attached to him. and that her society would certainly do Mr. I wish them happy with all my heart. "My brother Mr. but it is not every man's fate to marry the woman who loves him best. To know that he has not thrown himself away. He is just as superior as ever." "Oh! no--there is nothing to surprize one at all. Emma made up her mind. and one style of living.--A pretty fortune. you need not be afraid. you know." returned Harriet. The very first subject after being seated was Maple Grove. just what he deserves. a remarkably elegant gown."Very nicely dressed. Elton no good. She could then see more and judge better. Suckling's seat. Miss Woodhouse. that she meant to shine and be very superior. extremely well satisfied with herself. And now. Miss Woodhouse. and she came in his way. she had a quarter of an hour of the lady's conversation to herself. No. but with manners which had been formed in a bad school. indeed. had been the best of her own set." "I dare say. and the quarter of an hour quite convinced her that Mrs. and his place and his carriages were the pride of him.

" Emma made as slight a reply as she could. to be reminded of a place I am so extremely partial to as Maple Grove. I really could not help exclaiming! I assure you. I always say this is quite one of the evils of matrimony. with a bench round it. It is the garden of England. as I came in. who only wanted to be talking herself. She had a great idea that people who had extensive grounds themselves cared very little for the extensive grounds of any body else. and the house was modern and well-built. but it was not worth while to attack an error so double-dyed. People who have extensive grounds themselves are always pleased with any thing in the same style. A charming place. Mrs. placed exactly in the same part of the house. I am quite aware of that." Emma doubted the truth of this sentiment. Elton was appealed to. her sister's favourite room. "Very like Maple Grove indeed!--She was quite struck by the likeness!--That room was the very shape and size of the morning-room at Maple Grove. and stand very much in the same way--just across the lawn. it has been quite a home. you will understand how very delightful it is to meet with any thing at all like what one has left behind. I observed how very like the staircase was. Surry is full of beauties. Elton. and I had a glimpse of a fine large tree. undoubtedly.--"Was not it astonishingly like?-She could really almost fancy herself at Maple Grove."-Mr. Surry is the garden of England. I assure you." "And the staircase--You know. but to me." ." "Oh! yes. I have spent so many happy months there! (with a little sigh of sentiment). but it was fully sufficient for Mrs. you know. which put me so exactly in mind! My brother and sister will be enchanted with this place. like me. are strikingly like. "When you have seen more of this country.The grounds of Hartfield were small. the entrance. Every body who sees it is struck by its beauty. and all that she could see or imagine. Miss Woodhouse. Whenever you are transplanted. I am afraid you will think you have overrated Hartfield. Elton seemed most favourably impressed by the size of the room. "So extremely like Maple Grove! And it is not merely the house-the grounds. as far as I could observe. it is very delightful to me. Miss Woodhouse. but neat and pretty. The laurels at Maple Grove are in the same profusion as here. and therefore only said in reply.

and therefore. . one naturally wishes them to see as much as possible. when people shut themselves up entirely from society. Miss Woodhouse. Nobody can be more devoted to home than I am. We explored to King's-Weston twice last summer. without living in it either too much or too little. They will have their barouche-landau. I think. Elton. They would hardly come in their chaise. I believe. with a most satisfied smile. I shall decidedly recommend their bringing the barouche-landau. of course. with her own good-will. just after their first having the barouche-landau. I believe. we should be able to explore the different beauties extremely well. We are rather out of distance of the very striking beauties which attract the sort of parties you speak of. however. it will be so very much preferable. and we are a very quiet set of people. on the contrary. I believe." replied Mrs. `I really cannot get this girl to move from the house. Elton. or summer at farthest. and that it is much more advisable to mix in the world in a proper degree. not immediately here. most delightfully.' Many a time has she said so. when she has been going to Bristol. I was quite a proverb for it at Maple Grove. but Augusta." Emma was silenced. I perfectly understand your situation. Many counties. but we must not rest our claims on that distinction. more disposed to stay at home than engage in schemes of pleasure. Miss Woodhouse. I fancy not. I suppose."Yes. Many a time has Selina said." I never heard any county but Surry called so. in that way." continued Mrs. every summer?" "No. we shall explore a great deal. at that season of the year. I absolutely must go in by myself. and Mr. You have many parties of that kind here. Indeed." "Ah! there is nothing like staying at home for real comfort. When people come into a beautiful country of this sort. without saying any thing of our carriage. and yet I am no advocate for entire seclusion. Miss Woodhouse-(looking towards Mr. While they are with us. are called the garden of England. Why does not he try Bath?--Indeed he should. Suckling is extremely fond of exploring. it is a very bad thing. as well as Surry. I think. I dare say. though I hate being stuck up in the barouche-landau without a companion. would never stir beyond the park paling. you know. Woodhouse). "My brother and sister have promised us a visit in the spring. Your father's state of health must be a great drawback. which holds four perfectly. when the time draws on." "No. "and that will be our time for exploring.

--and my friends say I am not entirely devoid of taste. who. and my particular friend. it is quite wonderful the relief they give. without being impolite." "Oh! no. . It would be a charming introduction for you. but as to any thing else. was sunk indeed! She restrained herself. Mrs. Perry. A superior performer!--very far from it. I understand. who have lived so secluded a life. the lady I have always resided with when in Bath." "My father tried it more than once. I am doatingly fond of music--passionately fond. however. formerly. does not conceive it would be at all more likely to be useful now. Elton for what was called an introduction--of her going into public under the auspices of a friend of Mrs. a lady's character generally precedes her. I must protest against any such idea. Woodhouse's spirits. A line from me would bring you a little host of acquaintance. Woodhouse good. from any of the reproofs she could have given. dashing widow. Partridge. that it could not fail of being of use to Mr. whose name. And as to its recommendations to you. with the help of a boarder. I have seen such instances of it! And it is so cheerful a place. Upon these occasions. I dare say. is not unknown to you. for I assure you. are sometimes much depressed. and only thanked Mrs. Mrs. Elton's--probably some vulgar. Elton coolly. Miss Woodhouse. The idea of her being indebted to Mrs." It was as much as Emma could bear. and Mr. "I do not ask whether you are musical." And then." "Ah! that's a great pity. and I could immediately secure you some of the best society in the place. indeed. and she was not perfectly convinced that the place might suit her better than her father. Consider from how partial a quarter your information came. I assure you I have no doubt of its doing Mr. The advantages of Bath to the young are pretty generally understood. and Highbury has long known that you are a superior performer. would be most happy to shew you any attentions. changed the subject directly. where the waters do agree. but without receiving any benefit. to prevent farther outrage and indignation. I assure you. In my Bath life. which. and would be the very person for you to go into public with. of Hartfield. "but their going to Bath was quite out of the question. I fancy I need not take much pains to dwell on them.Let me recommend Bath to you. just made a shift to live!-The dignity of Miss Woodhouse. Elton.

nor were spacious apartments." "No. play delightfully. `But. I assure you it has been the greatest satisfaction. and delight to me. when he was speaking of my future home. in consideration of the motive. it would have been a most serious sacrifice. I have no doubts at all on that head. balls. you and I must establish a musical club. to hear what a musical society I am got into.' said I. When he was speaking of it in that way. but I did assure him that two carriages were not necessary to my happiness. or ours. you know-there is a sad story against them. indeed. Something of that nature would be particularly desirable for me. I hope we shall have many sweet little concerts together. I honestly said that the world I could give up--parties. To those who had no resources it was a different thing. I honestly said as much to Mr. surely?" . I condition for nothing else. I well know. It is a necessary of life to me. but without music. I could do very well without it. but my resources made me quite independent. as an inducement to keep me in practice. Miss Woodhouse. and the inferiority of the house too--knowing what I had been accustomed to--of course he was not wholly without apprehension. both at Maple Grove and in Bath. comfort. And as to smaller-sized rooms than I had been used to. for married women. and having always been used to a very musical society. They are but too apt to give up music. and have regular weekly meetings at your house. who are so extremely fond of it--there can be no danger. I really could not give it a thought. I think we shall not be long in want of allies. I hoped I was perfectly equal to any sacrifice of that description. the world was not necessary to me. Certainly I had been accustomed to every luxury at Maple Grove. I do not think I can live without something of a musical society.upon my honour my performance is mediocre to the last degree. You.'" "We cannot suppose. Blessed with so many resources within myself. E." "But you. smiling. life would be a blank to me. `to be quite honest. and expressing his fears lest the retirement of it should be disagreeable. I think. plays--for I had no fear of retirement. and I hope you will not find he has outstepped the truth more than may be pardoned." said Emma. I absolutely cannot do without music. I am delighted to find myself in such a circle. Will not it be a good plan? If we exert ourselves. Elton would hesitate to assure you of there being a very musical society in Highbury. Miss Woodhouse. "that Mr. in general.

`My friend Knightley' . but really I begin now to comprehend that a married woman has many things to call her attention. now Mrs." "Mrs. James Cooper. Selina has entirely given up music--never touches the instrument--though she played sweetly." said Mrs. Weston's manners. I had never seen him before. "will soon be in so regular a train--" "Well." said Emma. I assure you. "and found them both at home. I used to be quite angry with Selina. Mr. "we shall see. had nothing more to say. and of more than I can enumerate. "Knightley himself!--Was not it lucky?--for. I think?" Emma was almost too much astonished to answer. Elton. And the same may be said of Mrs." Emma. Their propriety. "We have been calling at Randalls. "were always particularly good. I was rather astonished to find her so very lady-like! But she is really quite the gentlewoman. and. finding her so determined upon neglecting her music. I like them extremely. and elegance." said Emma. Elton.'s. would make them the safest model for any young woman. that was--and of the two Milmans. Jeffereys--Clara Partridge." said she. I tremble." "And who do you think came in while we were there?" Emma was quite at a loss. The tone implied some old acquaintance-and how could she possibly guess? "Knightley!" continued Mrs. She was your governess. and of course. E. Upon my word it is enough to put one in a fright. Weston seems an excellent creature-quite a first-rate favourite with me already. I believe I was half an hour this morning shut up with my housekeeper. Elton chose another subject. And she appears so truly good--there is something so motherly and kind-hearted about her. simplicity. Mrs. laughing. that it wins upon one directly." "But every thing of that kind. not being within when he called the other day. after a moment's pause. Bird and Mrs."I should hope not. Elton hardly waited for the affirmative before she went on. I had a great curiosity. but Mrs. and very pleasant people they seem to be. "Having understood as much. but really when I look around among my acquaintance. as so particular a friend of Mr.

"considering we never saw her before. she seems a very obliging. Absolutely insufferable! Knightley!--I could not have believed it. Elton on this happy occasion. and I must do my caro sposo the justice to say that he need not be ashamed of his friend. Oh! what would Frank Churchill say to her. Knightley is a gentleman! I doubt whether he will return the compliment. Decidedly. and I dare say she was very much pleased with you. E. she was very tolerably capable of attending." . Though I think he had better not have married." Happily. that by the time her father had arranged himself. However. I like him very much. if he were here? How angry and how diverted he would be! Ah! there I am-thinking of him directly. She speaks a little too quick. Not to wait upon a bride is very remiss. Knightley is quite the gentleman. after the bustle of the Eltons' departure. and nobody speaks like you and poor Miss Taylor. Always the first person to be thought of! How I catch myself out! Frank Churchill comes as regularly into my mind!"-All this ran so glibly through her thoughts. and call him Knightley!--and discover that he is a gentleman! A little upstart. "Insufferable woman!" was her immediate exclamation. They were off. Weston!-Astonished that the person who had brought me up should be a gentlewoman! Worse and worse.. vulgar being. Much beyond my hopes. I think. she seems a very pretty sort of young lady." he deliberately began. a very gentleman-like man.had been so often mentioned. A little quickness of voice there is which rather hurts the ear. Ah! it shews what a sad invalid I am! But I do not like the corner into Vicarage Lane. But I ought to have gone before. pretty-behaved young lady. and Emma could breathe. and her caro sposo. I do not like strange voices. I said that I hoped I should in the course of the summer. I never met with her equal. But I believe I am nice. and no doubt will make him a very good wife. with her Mr. Knightley!--never seen him in her life before. and was ready to speak. it was now time to be gone. and all her airs of pert pretension and underbred finery. I could not have believed it! And to propose that she and I should unite to form a musical club! One would fancy we were bosom friends! And Mrs. Harriet is disgraced by any comparison. that I was really impatient to see him. and her resources. and discover her to be a lady. Actually to discover that Mr. I made the best excuses I could for not having been able to wait on him and Mrs. my dear. "Well. "Worse than I had supposed.

" Emma had done. as not even Miss Woodhouse could equal. disposed to commend." "No. my dear. did they occupy her. Elton's offences. Her father was growing nervous. if this is not encouragement to marry. It is encouraging people to marry if you make so much of them. let the others be who they may. but so little judgment that she thought herself coming with superior knowledge of the world. very long. and conceived Miss Hawkins to have held such a place in society as Mrs. Such as Mrs. is never to be neglected. and long. to enliven and improve a country neighbourhood. Her observation had been pretty correct. Elton's consequence only could surpass. Her mind returned to Mrs.--self-important. There was no reason to suppose Mr. and therefore why should you be so anxious to pay your respects to a bride? It ought to be no recommendation to you. More is avowedly due to her. especially." "My dear. you are no friend to matrimony. and the greater part of her new acquaintance. you know. and ill-bred. Mr. It was being very deficient." "But. such she appeared whenever they met again. Elton. you do not understand me. or taking it for granted that the bride must be as clever . He seemed not merely happy with her. He had the air of congratulating himself on having brought such a woman to Highbury. but proud. Elton appeared to her on this second interview. A bride. or not in the habit of judging. presuming. I never encouraged any body to marry." "Well."I dare say your apologies were accepted. following the lead of Miss Bates's good-will. papa. Elton knows you. Elton thought at all differently from his wife." "Yes: but a young lady--a bride--I ought to have paid my respects to her if possible. And I should never have expected you to be lending your sanction to such vanity-baits for poor young ladies. my dear papa. is always the first in company. I do not know what is. to retract her ill opinion of Mrs. and could not understand her. This is a matter of mere common politeness and good-breeding. sir. my dear. and has nothing to do with any encouragement to people to marry. but I would always wish to pay every proper attention to a lady--and a bride. familiar. by any subsequent discovery. ignorant. Volume Two Chapter Fifteen Emma was not required. She had a little beauty and a little accomplishment.

and her own share in the story. Elton's. I know enough of music to speak decidedly on that point.--I quite rave about Jane Fairfax." In one respect Mrs. interesting creature.-"Jane Fairfax is absolutely charming. and the enmity which they dared not shew in open disrespect to her. and though the effect was agreeable.--I dare say you have heard those charming lines of the poet. the object of their joint dislike.-And her situation is so calculated to affect one!--Miss Woodhouse. unimpeded by Miss Woodhouse. she must be wanting to assist and befriend her. we must exert ourselves and endeavour to do something for her. Her feelings altered towards Emma. They were sneering and negligent. or plea. were unpleasant towards Harriet. had in all likelihood been given also. and she was not satisfied with expressing a natural and reasonable admiration-but without solicitation. and about the third time of their meeting. the ill-will which produced it was necessarily increasing Emma's dislike. Elton took a great fancy to Jane Fairfax. I talk of nothing but Jane Fairfax. and from the first. or privilege. Miss Woodhouse. Mrs. found a broader vent in contemptuous treatment of Harriet. So mild and ladylike--and with such talents!--I assure you I think she has very extraordinary talents. under a colouring the least favourable to her and the most soothing to him. Oh! she is absolutely charming! You will laugh at my warmth--but. too--and Mr. Emma hoped it must rapidly work Harriet's cure.-When they had nothing else to say. We must bring her forward. She was.--It was not to be doubted that poor Harriet's attachment had been an offering to conjugal unreserve. so that Mrs.--A sweet. but from the very first. who readily continued her first contribution and talked with a good grace of her being "very pleasant and very elegantly dressed. she drew back in her turn and gradually became much more cold and distant. Elton grew even worse than she had appeared at first. Elton's knight-errantry on the subject. it must be always easy to begin abusing Miss Woodhouse. I do not scruple to say that she plays extremely well. probably. Her manners. but the sensations which could prompt such behaviour sunk them both very much. were very well satisfied. Such talent as hers must not be suffered to remain unknown.and as agreeable as she professed herself.--Before Emma had forfeited her confidence. Elton's praise passed from one mouth to another as it ought to do. Not merely when a state of warfare with one young lady might be supposed to recommend the other. by the little encouragement which her proposals of intimacy met with. of course.--Offended. she heard all Mrs. . upon my word.

My greatest danger. it is extremely prepossessing. with Colonel and Mrs. I like her the better for it. that I have little doubt of hearing of something to suit her shortly.`Full many a flower is born to blush unseen. shall introduce her wherever I can. Suckling. Campbell. I am a great advocate for timidity--and I am sure one does not often meet with it.--Whatever advantages she may have enjoyed with the Campbells are so palpably at an end! And I think she feels it.--I shall introduce her. and we live in a style which could not make the addition of Jane Fairfax. in housekeeping. can shew her any other attention than"-"My dear Miss Woodhouse.~ `And waste its fragrance on the desert air. We have carriages to fetch and convey her home. Jane Fairfax is a very delightful character. may be quite the other way. my resolution is taken as to noticing Jane Fairfax. She is very timid and silent. in doing too much. Maple Grove will probably be my model more than it ought to be-for we do not at all affect to equal my brother. such obscurity." was Emma's calm answer-"and when you are better acquainted with Miss Fairfax's situation and understand what her home has been." "You appear to feel a great deal--but I am not aware how you or any of Miss Fairfax's acquaintance here. in income. Oh! I assure you. so thrown away. I must confess it is a recommendation to me. I have no idea that you will suppose her talents can be unknown. I am sure she does. though all have not our situations. and being too careless of expense. considering what I have been used to. and interests me more than I can express. Mr." "Oh! but dear Miss Woodhouse. My acquaintance is so very extensive. a vast deal may be done by those who dare to act.--I should be extremely displeased if Wright were to send us up such a dinner. If we set the example. she is now in such retirement. as could make me regret having asked more than Jane Fairfax to partake of it. You and I need not be afraid. One can see that she feels the want of encouragement. shall have musical parties to draw out her talents. at any time. and shall be constantly on the watch for an eligible situation. any of those who have known her longer than yourself.' We must not allow them to be verified in sweet Jane Fairfax. It is not likely that I should. I have no idea of that sort of thing. many will follow it as far as they can.--But in those who are at all inferior.--However.-I shall certainly have her very often at my house. . the least inconvenient." "I cannot think there is any danger of it. perhaps.

spending a day with the Eltons! This was astonishing!--She could not have believed it possible that the taste or the pride of Miss Fairfax could endure such society and friendship as the Vicarage had to offer.of course. I am sure they will like her extremely." Jane had come to Highbury professedly for three months. Elton meant to be considered. under Mrs. in knowing what was felt. her fears will completely wear off. Elton's notice and the penury of her conversation. affable. Emma Woodhouse-ing me!-But upon my honour." The change on Mrs.--I shall have her very often indeed while they are with me. She was quite one of her worthies-the most amiable. what was done. Elton. nor. and she was left in peace--neither forced to be the very particular friend of Mrs. delightful woman--just as accomplished and condescending as Mrs.--"You have not deserved this." "Poor Jane Fairfax!"--thought Emma.--"To chuse to remain here month after month. Elton!--`Jane Fairfax and Jane Fairfax. the Campbells were gone to Ireland for three months. Elton's attentions to Jane was in the first style of guileless simplicity and warmth. but now the Campbells had promised their daughter to stay at least till Midsummer.' Heavens! Let me not suppose that she dares go about. but this is a punishment beyond what you can have merited!--The kindness and protection of Mrs. there seems no limits to the licentiousness of that woman's tongue!" Emma had not to listen to such paradings again--to any so exclusively addressed to herself--so disgustingly decorated with a "dear Miss Woodhouse. very particularly to my brother and sister when they come to us. what was meditated. Elton's guidance. Elton as she seemed to do. You may have done wrong with regard to Mr. Emma's only surprize was that Jane Fairfax should accept those attentions and tolerate Mrs. and I dare say we shall sometimes find a seat for her in the barouche-landau in some of our exploring parties. . She heard of her walking with the Eltons. rather than return to the superior companions who have always loved her with such real. for there really is nothing in the manners of either but what is highly conciliating. and fresh invitations had arrived for her to join them there. and when she gets a little acquainted with them. She looked on with some amusement. and only sharing with others in a general way. sitting with the Eltons. generous affection.--Miss Bates's gratitude for Mrs. quite a riddle!" said she. "She is a riddle. Dixon. Elton's side soon afterwards appeared. under privations of every sort! And now to chuse the mortification of Mrs. the very active patroness of Jane Fairfax.

friends contrived--no travelling difficulty allowed to exist. Elton. Poor Miss Bates may very likely have committed her niece and hurried her into a greater appearance of intimacy than her own good sense would have dictated. "Miss Fairfax is as capable as any of us of forming a just opinion of Mrs. more powerful than appears." was Emma's conclusion. But why must she consent to be with the Eltons?--Here is quite a separate puzzle." said Mr. inflicted either by the Campbells or herself. But (with a reproachful smile at Emma) she receives attentions from Mrs. "Such attentions as Mrs. Mrs. We must consider what Miss Fairfax quits. Her aunt is a good creature. must be very tiresome. I should have imagined. Weston." "You are right. Elton. she presently replied." Emma felt that Mrs. but still she had declined it! "She must have some motive. Elton's civilities for her. Elton's invitations I should have imagined any thing but inviting. With a faint blush. Elton's. she would not have chosen her. which nobody else pays her. in spite of the very natural wish of a little change. Elton. means were to be found. Would Jane but go. for refusing this invitation. Mrs. would rather disgust than gratify Miss Fairfax. and after a few minutes silence. and she was herself struck by his warmth.According to Miss Bates--it all came from her--Mrs. Knightley warmly. Mrs. There is great fear. Could she have chosen with whom to associate. Weston was giving her a momentary glance. but. great resolution somewhere. before we condemn her taste for what she goes to. "She must be under some sort of penance. my dear Emma--but it is better than being always at home. . he said." Both felt rather anxious to hear him speak again." said Mrs. Dixon had written most pressingly." Upon her speaking her wonder aloud on that part of the subject. by her aunt's eagerness in accepting Mrs. before the few who knew her opinion of Mrs. servants sent. "We cannot suppose that she has any great enjoyment at the Vicarage. The decree is issued by somebody. "if Miss Fairfax were to have been drawn on beyond her own inclination. Weston." "I should not wonder. great caution.-She is not to be with the Dixons. Weston ventured this apology for Jane. as a constant companion.

and that. and a mixture of alarm and delicacy made her irresolute what else to say. brought the colour into his face. Elton treats her with all the respect which she has a claim to. "Yes. Such a woman as Jane Fairfax probably never fell in Mrs. Mrs. Little Henry was in her thoughts. however." . and was pleased enough to exclaim. as he answered. I will say that for you. "You are not vain. Mr." He stopped. and either the exertion of getting them together. Elton's way before--and no degree of vanity can prevent her acknowledging her own comparative littleness in action. or some other cause. "any body may know how highly I think of her. Elton by her superiority both of mind and manner. Mr. Cole gave me a hint of it six weeks ago. would not have me if I were to ask her--and I am very sure I shall never ask her." "I know how highly you think of Jane Fairfax. you may hardly be aware yourself how highly it is." "And yet. "Oh! are you there?--But you are miserably behindhand. Miss Fairfax. The extent of your admiration may take you by surprize some day or other. We all know the difference between the pronouns he or she and thou. as a general principle. beginning hastily and with an arch look." said Emma. Knightley.--Emma felt her foot pressed by Mrs. perhaps. if not in consciousness. Knightley was hard at work upon the lower buttons of his thick leather gaiters." Emma returned her friend's pressure with interest. the plainest spoken amongst us. In a moment he went on-"That will never be. I can assure you. but soon stopping--it was better. Elton does not talk to Miss Fairfax as she speaks of her." he replied. and did not herself know what to think. I dare say. And besides the operation of this."Another thing must be taken into consideration too--Mrs. you may be sure that Miss Fairfax awes Mrs. We cannot give any body the disagreeable hints that we may have been very full of the hour before. to know the worst at once-she hurried on--"And yet. we all feel the influence of a something beyond common civility in our personal intercourse with each other-a something more early implanted. Weston. We feel things differently. face to face." Mr." said Emma. however.

You have scolded me too much for match-making. very soon. I told him he was mistaken. and offers of service. Oh! no. that she will not be continually detailing her magnificent intentions. he asked my pardon and said no more. He gave me a quiet hint. word. I assure you. or deed. for me to presume to take such a liberty with you. from the procuring her a permanent situation to the including her in those delightful exploring parties which are to take place in the barouche-landau. She has not the open temper which a man would wish for in a wife." "In that respect how unlike dear Mrs. "Well. upon my word I have not the smallest wish for your marrying Jane Fairfax or Jane any body. One says those sort of things." Emma could not but rejoice to hear that she had a fault. You would not come in and sit with us in this comfortable way. Mrs. he was thoughtful--and in a manner which shewed him not pleased. I can much more readily enter into the temptation of getting away from Miss Bates." And soon afterwards. I suppose?" "Yes. Weston. I have no faith in Mrs. She has a fault.--I never had a thought of her in that way. Cole? And so I am not to be surprized that Jane Fairfax accepts her civilities and consents to be with her." Mr. What I said just now. than I can believe in the triumph of Miss Fairfax's mind over Mrs. "and you soon silenced Mr. of course." . Emma. or in her being under any restraint beyond her own scanty rule of good-breeding. encouragement. The result of his reverie was. deep enough in familiar vulgarity? She calls you. meant nothing. your argument weighs most with me. "Jane Fairfax is a very charming young woman--but not even Jane Fairfax is perfect. I do not think the extent of my admiration for her will ever take me by surprize. soon afterwards said. Cole. "No. Knightley--what can she do for Mr. Elton. if you were married. "So you have been settling that I should marry Jane Fairfax?" "No indeed I have not. I cannot imagine that she will not be continually insulting her visitor with praise. Knightley was thoughtful again. Elton's acknowledging herself the inferior in thought. Elton. who wants to be wiser and wittier than all the world! I wonder how she speaks of the Coles-what she calls them! How can she find any appellation for them. without any idea of a serious meaning.He seemed hardly to hear her. Cole does not want to be wiser or wittier than his neighbours." said she.

They must not do less than others. No--till Cole alluded to my supposed attachment. and Maple Grove had given her a taste for dinners. Knightley--"I do not accuse her of want of feeling. Emma. with admiration and pleasure always--but with no thought beyond. but it wants openness. Weston. Elton. dear Emma. Her sensibilities. If this is living in the country. more reserved. She is reserved. are strong--and her temper excellent in its power of forbearance. patience. and in the proper order. in the meanwhile. I saw Jane Fairfax and conversed with her. Goddard and others. "I see how it is. Do not beat me. In the course of the spring she must return their civilities by one very superior party--in which her card-tables should be set out with their separate candles and unbroken packs in the true style--and more waiters engaged for the evening than their own establishment could furnish. Upon my word we shall be absolutely dissipated. that I should not wonder if it were to end in his being so at last. to carry round the refreshments at exactly the proper hour. She was a little shocked at the want of two drawing rooms. Knightley's marrying Jane Fairfax?" "Why. "I see what a life I am to lead among you. and there being no ice in the Highbury card-parties. Mrs. I think. could not be satisfied without a dinner at Hartfield for the Eltons. self-controul." said she. I say that he is so very much occupied by the idea of not being in love with her." said Mr. need not have been at a loss. Mrs. was disposed to pay him attention on his marriage. and invitations flowed in so fast that she had soon the pleasure of apprehending they were never to have a disengaged day." said Emma triumphantly when he left them. than she used to be--And I love an open temper. at the poor attempt at rout-cakes. really. Mrs. Bates. Dinner-parties and evening-parties were made for him and his lady. We really seem quite the fashion." Volume Two Chapter Sixteen Every body in and about Highbury who had ever visited Mr. From Monday next to Saturday." No invitation came amiss to her. but she would soon shew them how every thing ought to be arranged. Mrs. I assure you we have not a disengaged day!--A woman with fewer resources than I have." "Well. Perry. it is nothing very formidable. . "what do you say now to Mr. Her Bath habits made evening-parties perfectly natural to her. I suspect."Jane Fairfax has feeling. it had never entered my head. were a good deal behind-hand in knowledge of the world.

-Since her last conversation with Mrs. I have neglected her too long.--Mr. required little thought. A dinner there must be." It was precisely what Emma would have wished. she was more conscience-stricken about Jane Fairfax than she had often been." said she. Mr. But I will shew her greater attention than I have done. They were all disengaged and all happy. and only made the usual stipulation of not sitting at the bottom of the table himself. Knightley. it must be the Westons and Mr. she would rather stay at home.--Of the same age-and always knowing her--I ought to have been more her friend. so far it was all of course-and it was hardly less inevitable that poor little Harriet must be asked to make the eighth:--but this invitation was not given with equal satisfaction. without feeling uncomfortable. and imagined capable of pitiful resentment. was not yet over." Every invitation was successful.-The preparatory interest of this dinner. Knightley. with the usual regular difficulty of deciding who should do it for him. "at least as far as relates to me. If Miss Woodhouse would not be displeased. but both father and daughter were disturbed by its happening so.-She will never like me now. had she deemed it possible enough for wishing. "She would rather not be in his company more than she could help. She was delighted with the fortitude of her little friend--for fortitude she knew it was in her to give up being in company and stay at home.--His professional engagements did not allow of his being put off. and on many accounts Emma was particularly pleased by Harriet's begging to be allowed to decline it. Besides the Eltons. Weston and Mr. The persons to be invited. After Emma had talked about it for ten minutes. "This is very true. The two eldest little Knightleys were engaged to pay their grandpapa and aunt a visit of some weeks in the spring. Mr. Woodhouse considered eight persons at dinner together as the utmost that his nerves could bear-and here would be a ninth--and Emma apprehended that it would . She was not yet quite able to see him and his charming happy wife together.or she should be exposed to odious suspicions. Jane Fairfax. Elton which nobody else paid her. which was all that was meant--and it is very shameful. Woodhouse felt no unwillingness. and staying one whole day at Hartfield--which one day would be the very day of this party. however. Knightley's words dwelt with her. and their papa now proposed bringing them. A circumstance rather unlucky occurred. and she could now invite the very person whom she really wanted to make the eighth. He had said that Jane Fairfax received attentions from Mrs.

he was talking to Miss Fairfax." "Not a walk in the rain. "and reached home before the rain was much." "No. I always fetch the letters when I am here." "I went only to the post-office.--We scarcely got home in time. to have him with his grave looks and reluctant conversation opposed to her instead of his brother. but it did not absolutely rain when I set out. John Knightley smiled. Elton. "I hope you did not venture far. Miss Fairfax. John Knightley seemed early to devote himself to the business of being agreeable. It is my daily errand. Mrs. I should imagine. Weston was unexpectedly summoned to town and must be absent on the very day. but certainly not to dinner. She thought it in reality a sad exchange for herself. he looked at in silence-wanting only to observe enough for Isabella's information--but Miss Fairfax was an old acquaintance and a quiet girl. the party were punctually assembled." said she. Instead of drawing his brother off to a window while they waited for dinner. A walk before breakfast does me good. It saves trouble. and replied. with the arrival of the little boys and the philosophic composure of her brother on hearing his fate. when it had been just beginning to rain. as elegant as lace and pearls could make her. and he said. removed the chief of even Emma's vexation.be a ninth very much out of humour at not being able to come even to Hartfield for forty-eight hours without falling in with a dinner-party. this morning. He had met her before breakfast as he was returning from a walk with his little boys. that the increase of noise would be very immaterial. Woodhouse than to Emma. by representing that though he certainly would make them nine. She comforted her father better than she could comfort herself. and he could talk to her. and the seeing him so. The day came. It was natural to have some civil hopes on the subject. but Mr. or I am sure you must have been wet. Mr. Woodhouse was quite at ease. The event was more favourable to Mr. I hope you turned directly. John Knightley came. and Mr. He might be able to join them in the evening. ." Mr. yet he always said so little. and is a something to get me out.

" "I have often thought them the worst of the two. A pleasant "thank you" seemed meant to laugh it off. in the midst of every dearest connexion. and very far from giving offence." "Indifferent! Oh! no--I never conceived you could become indifferent. I. by the progress of years. may bring money. Time will generally lessen the interest of every attachment not within the daily circle--but that is not the change I had in view for you." "Ah! you are not serious now. must always have power to draw me out. John Knightley too well-I am very sure he understands the value of friendship as well as any body. I think. but situation." "You are speaking of letters of business. Miss Fairfax. never shall again. mine are letters of friendship. a tear in the eye. Woodhouse. "Business. "I must not hope to be ever situated as you are. probably. When you have lived to my age. ."That is to say." replied he coolly. that ten years hence you may have as many concentrated objects as I have. but it is not your being ten years older than myself which makes the difference. "I meant to imply the change of situation which time usually brings. a quivering lip. you will allow me to hope. you will begin to think letters are never worth going through the rain for. Letters are no matter of indifference." It was kindly said. As an old friend. I can easily believe that letters are very little to you. I consider one as including the other. The post-office has a great charm at one period of our lives." "When I talked of your being altered by time." There was a little blush. who being. shewed that it was felt beyond a laugh. and then this answer. they are generally a very positive curse. it is not age. you chose to have your walk. but a blush. much less than to me. I know Mr. and therefore till I have outlived all my affections." said John Knightley. and therefore I cannot expect that simply growing older should make me indifferent about letters. You have every body dearest to you always at hand. you know. in worse weather than to-day. for you were not six yards from your own door when I had the pleasure of meeting you. but friendship hardly ever does. a post-office. Her attention was now claimed by Mr. and Henry and John had seen more drops than they could count long before.

--To the post-office indeed! Mrs. Young ladies should take care of themselves. of your being out this morning in the rain.--You sad girl. I am sure you are much too reasonable. polite old man might then sit down and feel that he had done his duty.-I hope your good grand-mama and aunt are well. Now do not you feel that you had? Yes. was ending with her--and with all his mildest urbanity. I assure you. Weston kindly and persuasively. "I am very sorry to hear. and do not know how to take care of yourself." The kind-hearted. I am sure. I did indeed." said Mrs.-Liable as you have been to severe colds. Weston. sir. what is this I hear?--Going to the post-office in the rain!--This must not be. and have the greatest satisfaction in seeing you at Hartfield. "My dear Jane. The spring I always think requires more than common care." "My advice. They are some of my very old friends. You really are a very sad girl. By this time. "I certainly do feel tempted to give. My dear. "Oh! do not tell me. young ladies are very sure to be cared for. making the circle of his guests. especially at this time of year. and made every fair lady welcome and easy." .-Young ladies are delicate plants. You do us a great deal of honour to-day. Miss Fairfax. and I am very much obliged by your kind solicitude about me." Jane very patiently assured her that she had not caught any cold. and paying his particular compliments to the ladies. did you ever hear the like? You and I must positively exert our authority. did you change your stockings?" "Yes. Elton. said. or even half a day for your letters. you must not run such risks. My daughter and I are both highly sensible of your goodness. the walk in the rain had reached Mrs. and her remonstrances now opened upon Jane. than run the risk of bringing on your cough again. how could you do such a thing?--It is a sign I was not there to take care of you. Better wait an hour or two. Miss Fairfax.according to his custom on such occasions. They should take care of their health and their complexion. You look as if you would not do such a thing again. I wish my health allowed me to be a better neighbour. indeed you ought to be particularly careful." "My dear Miss Fairfax.

it could be done. "We will not allow her to do such a thing again:"-and nodding significantly--"there must be some arrangement made. E. If I meet with no insuperable difficulties therefore. it increases the wonder. so needlessly troublesome to your servant. But I do flatter myself. among the thousands that are constantly passing about the kingdom. you and I must be cautious how we express ourselves." said Jane earnestly. but instead of answering. Mrs. and upon my word. actually lost! And when one considers the variety of hands." eagerly rejoined Mrs. and of bad hands too." "Oh! my dear." Jane looked as if she did not mean to be conquered. If the errand were not a pleasure to me. I have scarcely ever had a bad morning before." ."Oh! she shall not do such a thing again. my dear Jane. The thing is determined. consider that point as settled. and from us I really think. that my influence is not entirely worn out. but so much as Patty has to do!--And it is a kindness to employ our men." "You are extremely kind. she began speaking again to Mr. Elton. there must indeed. That will obviate all difficulties you know. "but I cannot give up my early walk. that are to be deciphered. that is (laughing affectedly) as far as I can presume to determine any thing without the concurrence of my lord and master. as it always is when I am not here. John Knightley. you can have no scruple to accept such an accommodation." "So seldom that any negligence or blunder appears! So seldom that a letter. it is really astonishing!" "It is certainly very well regulated. and all that it does so well. Weston. "I cannot by any means consent to such an arrangement." "Excuse me. I forget his name) shall inquire for yours too and bring them to you.-"The regularity and despatch of it! If one thinks of all that it has to do. You know. I must walk somewhere. say no more about it." said Jane." "My dear Jane. "The post-office is a wonderful establishment!" said she. I suppose. by my grandmama's. I shall speak to Mr. my dear Jane. The man who fetches our letters every morning (one of our men. is even carried wrong--and not one in a million. and the post-office is an object. I am advised to be out of doors as much as I can.

Weston was attending to some one else--and the pause gave her time to reflect. Knightley." said his brother hesitatingly. That is the key to a great deal of capacity. "they are paid for it. but having answered the letter.--that would be the way. "No. but very clear and certainly strong. it is natural enough. Weston"--with half a sigh and half a smile at her. on perceiving that Mrs." This was not submitted to by either lady. but stopped. for boys have very little teaching after an early age. Weston was disengaged and Emma began again--"Mr. The public pays and must be served well. They vindicated him against the base aspersion." The varieties of handwriting were farther talked of. "Now." "Yes. "I never saw any gentleman's handwriting"--Emma began. and where the same master teaches." said Mr. how am I going to introduce him?--Am I unequal to speaking his name at once before all these people? Is it necessary for me to use any roundabout phrase?--Your Yorkshire friend-your correspondent in Yorkshire. "there is a likeness. I think.--Now for it. I suppose. I have not always known their writing apart." "Isabella and Emma both write beautifully. But for that reason. I know what you mean--but Emma's hand is the strongest. Weston. Weston any letter about her to produce?" No. "and always did."The clerks grow expert from habit.--No. smiling." continued he. had put it away. do write very much alike. If you want any farther explanation. And so does poor Mrs. and the usual observations made. "It is too small-wants strength." "I do not admire it. Woodhouse. I should imagine the likeness must be chiefly confined to the females. if I were very bad. it by no means wanted strength-it was not a large hand. Had not Mrs.--They must begin with some quickness of sight and hand. "I have heard it asserted. "that the same sort of handwriting often prevails in a family. looking also at Mrs. and exercise improves them." Mrs." said Mr. and scramble into any hand they can get. It is like a woman's writing. I certainly get better and better. she had heard from him very lately." said John Knightley. Frank Churchill writes one of the best gentleman's hands I ever saw. I can pronounce his name without the smallest distress. Isabella and Emma. .

was saying-"Must I go first? I really am ashamed of always leading the way. Elton. there was no avoiding a knowledge of their principal subjects: The post-office--catching cold--fetching letters--and friendship. and though much that passed between them was in a half-whisper.-with so much perseverance in judging and behaving ill did Mrs. that it would not have been so resolutely encountered but in full expectation of hearing from some one very dear. Knightley. Volume Two Chapter Seventeen When the ladies returned to the drawing-room after dinner. If Jane repressed her for a little time. and that it had not been in vain." "Oh! when a gallant young man. was ready. Elton's side. employing him to write for you one day?" "He chose to say he was employed"-"Well. with an appearance of good-will highly becoming to the beauty and grace of each." said Emma. "if I had my writing-desk." Jane's solicitude about fetching her own letters had not escaped Emma. and felt some curiosity to know whether the wet walk of this morning had produced any. as to the expedition and the expense of the Irish mails. She suspected that it had.-Do not you remember. arm in arm. I have a note of his. of course. She was quite determined not to utter a word that should hurt Jane Fairfax's feelings. Frank Churchill. well." said Mr. Weston were obliged to be almost always either talking together or silent together. before she could be spoken to. especially on Mrs. she soon began again. She could have made an inquiry or two. and can shew it after dinner to convince Mr. put forth his best. and before Mr. I have that note. She thought there was an air of greater happiness than usual--a glow both of complexion and spirits. he will. Mrs. . "writes to a fair lady like Miss Woodhouse. Woodhouse had reached her with his request to be allowed to hand her into the dining-parlour. Weston. I am sure I could produce a specimen. Emma found it hardly possible to prevent their making two distinct parties. She and Mrs. and they followed the other ladies out of the room." Dinner was on table. like Mr. Elton engross Jane Fairfax and slight herself.--Mrs. She had heard and seen it all. Mrs. Elton left them no choice. Knightley dryly."If we were in the other room.--it was at her tongue's end-but she abstained.

who can have thought of it as I have done?" "But you have not seen so much of the world as I have. I do not wish to be giving any body trouble. Bragge's is the one I would most wish to see you in. and to them succeeded one. which must be at least equally unpleasant to Jane--inquiries whether she had yet heard of any situation likely to suit her. I am sure they will want it. "I must spend some time with them.were long under discussion. and professions of Mrs.--afterwards I may probably be glad to dispose of myself. Elton." "Oh! my dear. shaking her head. Wax-candles in the schoolroom! You may imagine how desirable! Of all houses in the kingdom Mrs. "dear Mrs. for she moves in the first circle. we cannot begin too early. I do not wish to make any yet. Partridge in a day or two. had such an infinity of applications. June will soon be here." . the Campbells can hardly be more interested about you than I am. you are not aware of the difficulty of procuring exactly the desirable thing." "Colonel and Mrs." "But I have never fixed on June or any other month--merely looked forward to the summer in general." "Thank you. "I get quite anxious about you. Mrs. but I assure you. Suckling. Elton's meditated activity. Bragge." "I not aware!" said Jane. "Here is April come!" said she. I saw a vast deal of that in the neighbourhood round Maple Grove. my dear Jane. but I would rather you did not mention the subject to her. A cousin of Mr. You do not know how many candidates there always are for the first situations. every body was anxious to be in her family. I know your scruples." said Jane." "But have you really heard of nothing?" "I have not even made any inquiry. You are afraid of giving me trouble. But I would not wish you to take the trouble of making any inquiries at present. and shall give her a strict charge to be on the look-out for any thing eligible." "Trouble! aye. Campbell are to be in town again by midsummer. I shall write to Mrs. till the time draws nearer.

or say even July. you have a right to move in the first circle. my mortifications. I assure you. I think. it would be no object to me to be with the rich. you would take up with any thing."But. was all that I had in view. is not obtained at a moment's notice. have as many rooms as you like." "Something that would do!" repeated Mrs. the time is drawing near. with your superior talents. here is April. is very near. I know you. and should be sorry to have any made by my friends. but as to the greater misery of the victims. I am very sure. . I make no inquiry myself. with such business to accomplish before us." "Oh! my dear. would only be the greater. you might do all that. that may suit your humble ideas of yourself. my dear child. and June. is no everyday occurrence.--that is--I do not know-if you knew the harp. "governess-trade. and I am sure the good Campbells will be quite on my side. offices. or able to command the elegancies of life. any inferior. but this is by no means my intention. widely different certainly as to the guilt of those who carry it on. ma'am. I really believe you might. in a family not moving in a certain circle. human flesh! You quite shock me. where inquiry would soon produce something--Offices for the sale-not quite of human flesh--but of human intellect. indeed. I assure you Mr. but as to all that. commonplace situation." "I did not mean. Your inexperience really amuses me! A situation such as you deserve. and your friends would require for you. Elton. I do not know where it lies." "You are very obliging. "Aye. A gentleman's family is all that I should condition for." replied Jane.--I know what a modest creature you are." "Excuse me. indeed. we must begin inquiring directly. and that by applying to them I should have no doubt of very soon meeting with something that would do. Suckling was always rather a friend to the abolition.--yes. There are places in town. When I am quite determined as to the time. I am very indifferent. Your musical knowledge alone would entitle you to name your own terms. I should suffer more from comparison. I was not thinking of the slave-trade. I am not at all afraid of being long unemployed. but it will not satisfy your friends to have you taking up with any thing that may offer. and mix in the family as much as you chose." "I know you. But I only mean to say that there are advertising offices. if you mean a fling at the slave-trade. but you sing as well as play. but I shall be a little more nice.

must appear like a bride. I think. stipulate for what you chose. "Here comes this dear old beau of mine. Elton gaily. he took notice of my gown. old-fashioned politeness. He had returned to a late dinner. Oh! I assure you I began to think my caro sposo would be absolutely jealous. "they are pretty sure to be equal. a simple style of dress is so infinitely preferable to finery. modern ease often disgusts me. I am very serious in not wishing any thing to be attempted at present for me. but I do not know whether it is not over-trimmed. because it is expected of me. He had been too much expected by the best judges. I am exceedingly obliged to you. I protest!--Only think of his gallantry in coming away before the other men!--what a dear creature he is. Do you think it will look well?" The whole party were but just reassembled in the drawing-room when Mr. and Emma heard her saying in the same half-whisper to Jane." "And I am quite serious too. Woodhouse was almost as glad to see .--I assure you I like him excessively. and the comfort of such a situation together. but I am quite serious in wishing nothing to be done till the summer. that nothing really unexceptionable may pass us. Woodhouse. the honour. you know. How do you like it?--Selina's choice--handsome. Woodhouse came into the room. A bride." "You may well class the delight. Weston made his appearance among them." In this style she ran on. and employing my friends to watch also.even without the harp. I believe. and as I am. never thoroughly stopped by any thing till Mr.--show and finery are every thing. But I am quite in the minority. few people seem to value simplicity of dress. for surprize-but there was great joy. I wish you had heard his gallant speeches to me at dinner. I fancy I am rather a favourite. For two or three months longer I shall remain where I am. I have some notion of putting such a trimming as this to my white and silver poplin. "in resolving to be always on the watch. I am obliged to any body who feels for me." said Jane. I admire all that quaint. it is much more to my taste than modern ease. however. honourably and comfortably settled before the Campbells or I have any rest.--and you must and shall be delightfully. I assure you. I must put on a few ornaments now. Elton. Mrs. I have the greatest dislike to the idea of being over-trimmed--quite a horror of finery." replied Mrs. but my natural taste is all for simplicity. and walked to Hartfield as soon as it was over. Mr. But this good old Mr. her vanity had then a change of object.

to quit the tranquillity and independence of his own fireside. but very audible to every body. did not I?--Anne. only a few lines--will not take you long. you see. Weston meanwhile. and might have been silent. good news. "it will give you pleasure. and might now have been still. then shrugged his shoulders. But it is an excellent thing to have Frank among us again. They will stay ." The two ladies looked over it together. read it to Emma. "Read it. for the sake of being in mixed company till bed-time.--That a man who might have spent his evening quietly at home after a day of business in London. He gave her a letter. who had been long talking. and having satisfied the inquiries of his wife as to his dinner. for she is as impatient as the black gentleman when any thing is to be done. and might have been alone!--Such a man. it was from Frank. I dare say. should set off again. and on the evening of a cold sleety April day rush out again into the world!--Could he by a touch of his finger have instantly taken back his wife. all nothing of course. "Well. was making himself agreeable among the rest. who had been in more than one crowd. though principally addressed to Mrs. and spread abroad what public news he had heard. perfectly unsuspicious of the indignation he was exciting. Well." said he. so near as town. he had met with it in his way." Mr. As to her illness. A man who had been in motion since eight o'clock in the morning. most likely they will be there to-morrow or Saturday. my dear. was a circumstance to strike him deeply. "I could not have believed it even of him. he had not the smallest doubt of being highly interesting to every body in the room. happy and cheerful as usual.him now. what do you say to it?--I always told you he would be here again soon. in a voice a little subdued. which a day spent anywhere from home confers. you see--at the latest. read it. did not I always tell you so. and said. and to herself. convincing her that none of all her careful directions to the servants had been forgotten. and with all the right of being principal talker. John Knightley looked at him with amazement. Weston. and you would not believe me?--In town next week. John Knightley only was in mute astonishment. was proceeding to a family communication. which. as he would have been sorry to see him before. but his coming would probably prolong rather than break up the party. and had taken the liberty of opening it. and he sat smiling and talking to them the whole time. of finishing his day in the efforts of civility and the noise of numbers. I think. there would have been a motive. and walk half a mile to another man's house. he is coming.

pretty good news. She was a little occupied in weighing her own feelings. if not sooner. Weston. Her looks and words had nothing to restrain them. Weston was most comfortably pleased on the occasion. I met the letters in my way this morning. I shall only just mention the circumstance to the others in a common way.--from them he would have proceeded to Miss Fairfax. is not it? Have you finished it? Has Emma read it all? Put it up. Knightley particularly delighted. I am sure Mr. and finding himself close to Mrs. we will have a good talk about it some other time. too eager to be very observant. This is precisely what I wanted. but it will not do now. It was well that he took every body's joy for granted. They were the first entitled. Her congratulations were warm and open. She was happy. and her attention disengaged. to be made happy. put it up. We have notice of it in a letter to-day. . and I shall be very happy in his acquaintance. Elton. however." "You are very obliging." "Oh! yes. Mrs. that it would have been too positive an interruption.--Frank will be extremely happy. which she rather thought was considerable. or he might not have thought either Mr. and knew she ought to be happy. Woodhouse or Mr. Mr. but Emma could not speak so fluently. smiled most graciously. "You have heard of a certain Frank Churchill. and we shall both have great pleasure in seeing him at the Vicarage. but she was so deep in conversation with John Knightley. I presume." he continued-"and know him to be my son.-He is to be in town next week. Weston and Emma. and trying to understand the degree of her agitation. Weston. too communicative to want others to talk. he necessarily began on the subject with her." Mrs. Elton. she knew she was happy. I am sure. and he will be half his time with us. Well. and soon moved away to make the rest of his friends happy by a partial communication of what the whole room must have overheard already. very willing to suppose a particular compliment intended her by such a hope. after Mrs. though he does not bear my name.a good while when they do come. Volume Two Chapter Eighteen "I hope I shall soon have the pleasure of introducing my son to you." said Mr. was very well satisfied with what she did say. Elton will lose no time in calling on him.

if you knew how Selina feels with respect to sleeping at an inn. Churchill's account--she has not been well the whole winter. But what is distance. You will hardly believe me-but twice in one week he and Mr. Elton." "Indeed!--from Yorkshire. I assure you. Sixty-five miles farther than from Maple Grove to London. Bragge went to London and back again with four horses. Churchill's making incredible exertions to avoid it. Weston. and thinks Enscombe too cold for her-so they are all to move southward without loss of time.--A most dangerous precedent indeed!--I beg you will not let your neighbours follow your example. Mrs. they are about one hundred and ninety miles from London. She is his principal correspondent. In Frank's last letter she complained. on Mrs. speaks a great degree of weakness--but now she is so impatient to be in town. Enscombe is in Yorkshire?" "Yes. Churchill. of being too weak to get into her conservatory without having both his arm and his uncle's! This. Certainly. I could not have believed it of you!" "Aye. that Mrs. Mrs. Weston. Elton." "The evil of the distance from Enscombe. I Always take the part of my own sex. a considerable journey. I think. sometimes flies about.and seeing my son's hand. Weston. Weston-(laughing affectedly) I must protest against that. if this is what I am to expect. very considerable. you would not wonder at Mrs. he said. "is." "And so you absolutely opened what was directed to her! Oh! Mr. You must take care of yourself. to people of large fortune?--You would be amazed to hear how my brother. we married women must begin to exert ourselves!--Oh! Mr. indeed. merely to give us notice--it tells us that they are all coming up to town directly. I give you notice--You will find me a formidable antagonist on that point. delicate ladies have very extraordinary constitutions. presumed to open it--though it was not directed to me--it was to Mrs. I shall grant you nothing. Weston. Suckling. I hardly ever get a letter. Selina says it is quite . I do indeed. has not been able to leave the sofa for a week together.--This letter tells us--it is a short letter--written in a hurry. you know. Mr. as we understand.--So Frank writes word. Mr. I always stand up for women-and I assure you." said Mr. upon my word. we men are sad fellows." "No.--Upon my word. that she means to sleep only two nights on the road. You must grant me that." "Yes.

Besides. The fact is. but I have not much faith in Mrs. when Mr. "Oh! Mr. Elton. She is very fond of Frank. A fine place. Churchill is not much in my good graces. I assure you. perhaps there was want of spirit in the pretence of it. "Mrs.horror to her--and I believe I have caught a little of her nicety. It is a retired place. She always travels with her own sheets. why not go to Bath. Mrs. she is out of health now. I suppose. It was by no means her object to have it believed that her sister was not a fine lady. and therefore I would not speak ill of her. Churchill do the same?" "Depend upon it. that she is tired of Enscombe. Churchill does every thing that any other fine lady ever did. Elton eagerly interposed with." "If she is really ill. do not mistake me. I would not say so to every body. Churchill will not be second to any lady in the land for"-Mrs. and she begins to want change. I dare say.-And Mrs. I always say a woman cannot have too many resources--and I feel very thankful that I have so many myself as to be quite independent of society. an excellent precaution. Do not run away with such an idea." "Is not she? Then she is no rule for Mrs. Nothing can stand more retired from the road than Maple Grove. but that indeed. than she ever was before. by her own account. Mrs. Does Mrs. Selina is no fine lady. she has always been. Churchill's illness.--and she was considering in what way she had best retract. Weston. who is as thorough a fine lady as any body ever beheld." "Aye--like Maple Grove. She has now been a longer time stationary there." . Elton began to think she had been wrong in disclaiming so warmly." Mrs. as you may suspect-but this is quite between ourselves. Churchill. but very retired. Or. Weston?--To Bath. perhaps she may not have resources enough in herself to be qualified for a country life. Weston went on. or to Clifton?" "She has taken it into her head that Enscombe is too cold for her. Mrs. Such an immense plantation all round it! You seem shut out from every thing--in the most complete retirement. Churchill probably has not health or spirits like Selina to enjoy that sort of seclusion. Mr.

to spend in some warmer place than Enscombe--in short. But perhaps he may never have heard of there being such a creature in the world. Oh! the pains I have been at to dispel those gloomy ideas and give him cheerfuller views! The carriage--we had disappointments about the carriage. I was sure something favourable would turn up--but nobody believed me. Churchill is ordered. Mr. if I may presume to call myself an addition. "it was quite uncertain when we might see him again." "So I remember to have heard. he came to me quite in despair. Not heard of you!--I believe Mrs. you see. He will find an addition to the society of Highbury when he comes again. "When Frank left us. immediately exclaimed." continued he. and so it has. He and Mrs. when. Weston instantly seized the opportunity of going on. Weston. perfectly true. Mrs." "Very true. Weston were both dreadfully desponding. he was apt to be in despair." He had done his duty and could return to his son."Frank was here in February for a fortnight. they are sure to mend the next. I have observed." This was too loud a call for a compliment to be passed by.--one morning. to spend in London. did not proceed with all the rapidity which suited his feelings." She was stopped by a slight fit of coughing. That is. Elton. `How could he contrive to come? And how could it be supposed that his uncle and aunt would spare him again?' and so forth--I always felt that something would happen in our favour. and Mr. so that we have the agreeable prospect of frequent visits from Frank the whole spring-precisely the season of the year which one should have chosen . May is the very month which Mrs. Elton. Weston. "My dear madam! Nobody but yourself could imagine such a thing possible. It has been completely unexpected. or has ordered herself. Weston's letters lately have been full of very little else than Mrs. which makes this day's news doubly welcome. "You were mentioning May. I always had a strong persuasion he would be here again soon. and exclaim that he was sure at this rate it would be May before Hymen's saffron robe would be put on for us. in the course of my life. It is just what I used to say to a certain gentleman in company in the days of courtship. that is. because things did not go quite right. I remember. with a very good grace. that if things are going untowardly one month. and Mr.

so I shall judge of him. I hope you will be pleased with my son. She was nobody when he married her. I think it is the state of mind which gives most spirit and delight. indolent. but do not expect a prodigy. and are by no means implicitly guided by others. She was the instigator. weather genial and pleasant. When he was here before. that I am one of those who always judge for themselves. Weston." said he presently. Frank's mother would never have been slighted as she was but for her. Mrs. and only make himself a little helpless and tiresome. that must be infinitely provoking! I have quite a horror of upstarts. "I hope. and. Weston was musing. for there is a family in that neighbourhood . she is an upstart. and we could not do half that we intended. I have very little doubt that my opinion will be decidedly in his favour. but his pride is nothing to his wife's: his is a quiet." Mr. the whole blame of it is to be laid to her. gentlemanlike sort of pride that would harm nobody. we made the best of it. between ourselves. Churchill. she has no fair pretence of family or blood. barely the daughter of a gentleman. the sort of constant expectation there will be of his coming in to-day or to-morrow. He is generally thought a fine young man. there always is in February. Now will be the time. "I have not been severe upon poor Mrs. I give you notice that as I find your son. I assure you. I have heard so much in praise of Mr. Weston's partiality for him is very great. may not be more friendly to happiness than having him actually in the house. cheerless weather. I think it is so. but you must not expect a prodigy.--I am no flatterer.--At the same time it is fair to observe. Elton. damp. nor of the treatment I have met with. always inviting one out. She thinks nobody equal to him. Mrs. but there are some traits in her character which make it difficult for me to speak of her with the forbearance I could wish. but there was a good deal of wet. Frank Churchill. Elton.for it: days almost at the longest. of my connexion with the family. most gratifying to me. and never too hot for exercise." "Only think! well. and at any hour. Mr. Mr. and I do not know. Churchill has pride. Maple Grove has given me a thorough disgust to people of that sort. If she is ill I should be sorry to do her injustice. and. This will be complete enjoyment. whether the uncertainty of our meetings. you know. but her pride is arrogance and insolence! And what inclines one less to bear. but ever since her being turned into a Churchill she has out-Churchill'd them all in high and mighty claims: but in herself. Mrs." "And I assure you. You cannot be ignorant. as you may suppose.

John Knightley proved more talkative than his brother. The remaining five were left to their own powers. Emma. I always say there is something direful in the sound: but nothing more is positively known of the Tupmans. They came from Birmingham. Woodhouse to cards. which nobody had inclination to pay. and Mr. People of the name of Tupman." . Mrs. Elton was wanting notice. My charge would be much more concise than her's. all that I have to recommend being comprised in. and Mrs. Mr. and how they got their fortune nobody knows. and he soon began with-"Well. and yet by their manners they evidently think themselves equal even to my brother. and do not physic them. Suckling.who are such an annoyance to my brother and sister from the airs they give themselves! Your description of Mrs. Weston. Tea was carrying round. and Mr." said Emma. Elton sat down with Mr. One has not great hopes from Birmingham. soon took the opportunity of walking away. which will be enough for Isabella. you must send them home again. Mr. but you have your sister's letter. you know. Suckling had completed the purchase before his death. and whose father had it before him--I believe. do not spoil them. very lately settled there. and encumbered with many low connexions. A year and a half is the very utmost that they can have lived at West Hall. and Emma doubted their getting on very well. Mr. having said all that he wanted. who has been eleven years a resident at Maple Grove. and probably not much in the same spirit. "for I shall do all in my power to make them happy. at least--I am almost sure that old Mr. for Mr." They were interrupted. Suckling. Weston. Weston. Knightley seemed little disposed for conversation. who happens to be one of their nearest neighbours. He was to leave them early the next day. After tea. It is infinitely too bad. Mr." "And if you find them troublesome. Churchill made me think of them directly. and expecting to be on a footing with the old established families. I do not believe I have any thing more to say about the boys. Mr. and she was herself in a worry of spirits which would have made her prefer being silent. and every thing is down at full length there we may be sure. but giving themselves immense airs. though a good many things I assure you are suspected. and happiness must preclude false indulgence and physic." "I rather hope to satisfy you both. which is not a place to promise much.

is very great. why you should foresee such a series of dissipation for me. every letter to Isabella brought an account of fresh gaieties. "it is Randalls that does it all. that Henry and John may be sometimes in the way. do not you?" "I hope I am aware that they may be too noisy for your father-or even may be some encumbrance to you. if your visiting engagements continue to increase as much as they have done lately. you must be sensible that the last half-year has made a great difference in your way of life. and you mix more with it. These amazing engagements of mine-what have they been? Dining once with the Coles--and having a ball talked of. "you amuse me! I should like to know how many of all my numerous engagements take place without your being of the party. I shall certainly be at leisure. I do not think they would fare much better with Uncle Knightley. But you. which never took place. that if Aunt Emma has not time for them. is not likely to have less influence than heretofore. Cole's. And as to my dear little boys. and you are engaged with a dinner-party!-When did it happen before. I must say. Witness this very time." said his brother quickly." exclaimed Emma. (turning to Mr. and why I am to be supposed in danger of wanting leisure to attend to the little boys." "Yes. it strikes me as a possible thing. Knightley. who is absent from home about five hours where she is absent one-- ." "Increase!" "Certainly. "that need not be the consequence." cried Mr.) who know how very. Knightley."That is very likely." "No. or any thing like it? Your neighbourhood is increasing. And if they are. John Knightley)--your good fortune in meeting with so many of your friends at once here. I cannot imagine. Randalls alone makes in your goings-on. I suppose. Let them be sent to Donwell. The difference which Randalls. You think so. or balls at the Crown. A little while ago. very seldom I am ever two hours from Hartfield. dinners at Mr. delights you too much to pass unnoticed." "Upon my word. I can understand you--(nodding at Mr." "Difference! No indeed I am not." "There can be no doubt of your being much more engaged with company than you used to be." "Very well--and as Randalls. Emma. I only beg you to send them home. Here am I come down for only one day.

who had undoubtedly been always so much the most in love of the two. But she had an almost instant doubt of his caring for her as he had done. were to be returning with the same warmth of sentiment which he had taken away. had produced this very natural and very desirable effect. it was for him. If a separation of two months should not have cooled him. He rode down for a couple of hours.-but if he. of his feeling the same tenderness in the same degree. an event. it was not worth thinking of. Knightley seemed to be trying not to smile. there were dangers and evils before her:--caution for him and for herself would be necessary. The Enscombe family were not in town quite so soon as had been imagined. but he was at Highbury very soon afterwards. there was restlessness about him. There could be no doubt of his great pleasure in seeing her. That would be so very painful a conclusion of their present acquaintance! and yet. it would be very distressing. They met with the utmost friendliness. she could then exercise all her quick observation. It was not in his calmness that she read his comparative difference. Weston had foreseen. a something to alter her present composed and tranquil state. is either reading to himself or settling his accounts. He was in high spirits. and it would be incumbent on her to avoid any encouragement of his. when he is at home. Volume Three Chapter One A very little quiet reflection was enough to satisfy Emma as to the nature of her agitation on hearing this news of Frank Churchill. He was not calm. he could not yet do more. with the conviction probably of her indifference. though rather longer than Mr. Her own attachment had really subsided into a mere nothing. before she had the power of forming some opinion of Frank Churchill's feelings. She felt as if the spring would not pass without bringing a crisis. upon Mrs. She did not mean to have her own affections entangled again. . Absence. his spirits were evidently fluttered. and seemed delighted to speak of his former visit. She was soon convinced that it was not for herself she was feeling at all apprehensive or embarrassed. she could not help rather anticipating something decisive. She wished she might be able to keep him from an absolute declaration. Elton's beginning to talk to him. It was not very long. and how she must act. and speedily determine how he was influenced. She watched him well. It was a clear thing he was less in love than he had been. and recur to old stories: and he was not without agitation.and who. as ready to talk and laugh as ever. but as he came from Randalls immediately to Hartfield. and succeeded without difficulty." Mr.

was his staying only a quarter of an hour. They were going to remove immediately to Richmond. and much as he wished to stay longer at Hartfield. He did not believe it to proceed from any thing that care and medicine might not remove. Churchill had been recommended to the medical skill of an eminent person there. Though much might be fancy. Her nerves were under continual irritation and suffering. if he really tried to come. and hurrying away to make other calls in Highbury. he could not doubt. or that she was as strong as ever. at Randalls. or at least that she might not have many years of existence before her. it was to be inferred that Mrs. . This was the only visit from Frank Churchill in the course of ten days. Churchill's removal to London had been of no service to the wilful or nervous part of her disorder. "He had seen a group of old acquaintance in the street as he passed-he had not stopped. Such was his own account at Randall's. and had otherwise a fancy for the place. and by the ten days' end. He was often hoping.Lively as he was. but what decided her belief on the subject. It soon appeared that London was not the place for her. but he could not be prevailed on. he had declared himself convinced of it. to say that her complaints were merely imaginary. and much benefit expected from the change. her nephew's letter to Randalls communicated a change of plan. Emma heard that Frank wrote in the highest spirits of this arrangement. and seemed most fully to appreciate the blessing of having two months before him of such near neighbourhood to many dear friends-for the house was taken for May and June. almost as often as he could even wish. when he looked back. A ready-furnished house in a favourite spot was engaged. If he were quite sincere. he would not stop for more than a word--but he had the vanity to think they would be disappointed if he did not call. His aunt could not bear to have him leave her. intending to come--but was always prevented. it seemed a liveliness that did not satisfy himself. and a discreet resolution of not trusting himself with her long." She had no doubt as to his being less in love--but neither his agitated spirits. by all his father's doubts. he must hurry off. Mrs. That she was really ill was very certain. that she was in a weaker state of health than she had been half a year ago. She was told that now he wrote with the greatest confidence of being often with them. seemed like a perfect cure. She could not endure its noise. and she was rather inclined to think it implied a dread of her returning power. nor his hurrying away.

No second meeting had there yet been between him and Emma. it was absolutely to be. he might as well be at Enscombe. Weston's own happiness was indisputable. The time of year lightened the evil to him. She hoped it was not so. Now. The room at the Crown was to witness it. The day approached. and after a morning of some anxious watching. it would be really having Frank in their neighbourhood. reached Randalls before dinner.Emma saw how Mr.--but it would be better than a common meeting in a crowd. every preparation was resumed. A very few to-morrows stood between the young people of Highbury and happiness. again to prevent the ball. Weston understood these joyous prospects. but it had been soon acknowledged vain to attempt to fix a day. He was considering her as the source of all the happiness they offered. and that he had no doubt of being able to join them for twenty-four hours at any given time. Mr. Mrs. He would be always coming over. while dear Emma were gone. eighteen--it must be full eighteen to Manchester-street--was a serious obstacle. What were nine miles to a young man?--An hour's ride. Frank Churchill. Woodhouse was resigned. induced them to name as early a day as possible. Now. and very soon after the Churchills had removed to Richmond. Mr. the day would be spent in coming and returning. Mr. Weston's ball was to be a real thing. Bates was engaged to spend the evening at Hartfield.-the ball at the Crown. Volume Three Chapter Two No misfortune occurred. a few lines from Frank. Two months must bring it to the proof. Were he ever able to get away. Sixteen miles--nay. but Richmond was the very distance for easy intercourse. in all the certainty of his own self. It was the very circumstance he could have wished for. Weston had been so very earnest in his entreaties for her arriving there as soon as possible . however. and he sanguinely hoped that neither dear little Henry nor dear little John would have any thing the matter with them. and every thing was safe. It had not been forgotten before. James had due notice. The difference in that respect of Richmond and London was enough to make the whole difference of seeing him always and seeing him never. Better than nearer! One good thing was immediately brought to a certainty by this removal. He was quite delighted. the day arrived. May was better for every thing than February. to say that his aunt felt already much better for the change. Mr. There was no comfort in having him in London.

He was looking about. or afraid of being always near her. which Emma could not hear the sound of at first. formed a sort of half-circle round the fire. and praised again. She was to convey Harriet. Weston's fault that the number of privy councillors was not yet larger.-impatient to begin. on the same errand. which shewed a mind not at ease. and then. having nothing else to do.--General benevolence. his eyes declared that he meant to have a delightful evening. made a man what he ought to be. The whole party walked about. but the aunt and niece were to be brought by the Eltons. and though he did not say much. Emma found that it was not Mr. Frank was standing by her. he was watching for the sound of other carriages. though May. by particular desire. the Randalls party just sufficiently before them. without great surprize. She liked his open manners. but a little less of open-heartedness would have made him a higher character.-She could fancy such a man. was not the very first distinction in the scale of vanity. for the purpose of taking her opinion as to the propriety and comfort of the rooms before any other persons came. They all walked about together. to observe in their various modes. and felt. and looked.after themselves. like herself. but not steadily. and they drove to the Crown in good time. Weston's judgment. he was going to the door. Bates's door to offer the use of their carriage. to see that every thing was as it should be. that to be the favourite and intimate of a man who had so many intimates and confidantes. but not general friendship. that. . but she presently found that it was a family of old friends. They had stopped at Mrs. a fire in the evening was still very pleasant. "So unreasonably early!" she was going to exclaim. and within a few minutes were joined by the contents of another carriage. who had been entreated to come early with the same distinguishing earnestness. Frank Churchill seemed to have been on the watch. that it seemed as if half the company might soon be collected together for the purpose of preparatory inspection. till other subjects were started. Weston depended. Emma perceived that her taste was not the only taste on which Mr. that she could not refuse him. to help Mr. there was a restlessness. and must therefore spend some quiet interval in the young man's company. who were coming. and they were so very closely followed by another carriage of cousins.

said. I think." A carriage was heard. and we used sometimes to say very cutting things! Selina. Mr. bore with them much better. and Mrs. Suckling nor me had ever any patience with them. Weston. and all the smiles and the proprieties passed. He was immediately qualifying himself to form an opinion. Elton. Emma longed to know what Frank's first opinion of Mrs. I think him a very handsome young man. Weston. "But Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax!" said Mr. "We thought you were to bring them." While she talked of his son. to gratify him by her opinion of his son. I have never seen either Mr. though by no means moving slowly. sir.-"I will see that there are umbrellas. Weston's attention was chained. without the least conceit or puppyism. by giving her very proper attention. In a few minutes the carriage returned. looking about. but Mrs." The mistake had been slight. You know I candidly told you I should form my own opinion.--Somebody talked of rain. Elton. Mr." Mr. "I have a great curiosity to see Mrs. I have heard so much of her. and so briskly did she begin. You must know I have a vast dislike to puppies-quite a horror of them. he could recollect that there were ladies just arriving to be attended to. Elton might be. Elton was spoken of. and his manners are precisely what I like and approve--so truly the gentleman. . how he was affected by the studied elegance of her dress. and with happy smiles must hurry away. or Mrs. who is mild almost to a fault. but when she got to Maple Grove. They were never tolerated at Maple Grove.Mrs. "I am forgetting that I am not acquainted with her. I never compliment.--You may believe me. He was on the move immediately. after the introduction had passed. but coming back. It cannot be long. Elton appeared. and I am happy to say that I am extremely pleased with him. that the young man himself. I have no business to put myself forward. "I think she must be here soon. Neither Mr. and her smiles of graciousness. before she comes." said he. Weston was following. The carriage was sent for them now. "A very fine young man indeed. Elton detained him." said Frank to his father: "Miss Bates must not be forgotten:" and away he went. Mr. could hardly be out of hearing.

walked into the room. Our coachman and horses are so extremely expeditious!--I believe we drive faster than any body. look!--did you ever see any thing? Oh! Mr. Nothing wanting. `Oh! Mrs. I made her take her shawl--for the evenings are not warm--her large new shawl-Mrs.' Thank you. I saw her as I came in. I thank you. And Jane declares-Well!--(as soon as she was within the door) Well! This is brilliant indeed!--This is admirable!--Excellently contrived.--So kind of her to think of my mother! Bought at Weymouth. Jane and I quite ready. Weston. but her words. Weston. Did not keep the horses a moment. My dear Jane. escorted by the two gentlemen. Very happy to hear it.' said I-but I had not time for more. are you sure you did not wet your feet?--It was but a drop or two. which they hesitated about some time. I said to my mother. Gone to Mr.-What a pleasure it is to send one's carriage for a friend!-I understand you were so kind as to offer. upon my word. Elton turned to Mrs. who came in talking. or we should have been. Weston. so obliged to you for the carriage!--excellent time. Woodhouse's. Could not have imagined it. Her gestures and movements might be understood by any one who looked on like Emma. were soon lost under the incessant flow of Miss Bates. Most comfortable carriage.-"Very well. Mrs. As the door opened she was heard. You may be very sure I shall always take care of them. Jane says. you know--Mr. "So very obliging of you!--No rain at all. but I am so afraid:--but Mr. Stokes would not know her own room again. Nothing to signify. ma'am. Stokes. Colonel Campbell rather preferred an olive. Elton. So afraid you might have a headache!-seeing you pass by so often.Mrs. I hope you are quite well." Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax. "I have no doubt of its being our carriage with Miss Bates and Jane. Weston's to receive them. There were three others.-Oh! and I am sure our thanks are due to you.--So well lighted up!-Jane. every body's words. my mother is remarkably well. and had not finished her speech under many minutes after her being admitted into the circle at the fire. but another time it will be quite unnecessary. Elton seemed to think it as much her duty as Mrs. Delighted to hear it indeed." She was now met by Mrs. and knowing how much trouble you must have. Dixon's choice. ma'am--.-But two such offers in one day!--Never were such neighbours. `Upon my word. Quite thick shoes. Weston. on that score. you must really have had Aladdin's lamp. Ah! dear Mrs. Dixon's wedding-present. Good Mrs. Mrs. and Mrs. Frank Churchill was so extremely-and there was a mat to step upon--I shall never forget his . Elton had most kindly sent Jane a note. she was standing in the entrance. I do not care for myself. Jane.

Mr. and as soon as Miss Bates was quiet.--A little tea if you please. Richard?-Oh! there he is. Don't disturb him. Much better employed talking to the young ladies.extreme politeness. Hughes for a moment. I protest!-and good Mr. "Nobody can think less of dress in general than I do--but upon such an occasion as this. quite well. and Mrs. Elton then said. Elton was evidently wanting to be complimented herself-and it was. all answered with patient politeness. I thank you. I like him very well. Does not she.--A fine young man certainly is Frank Churchill. for me--never take coffee. who were standing a little way behind her.--How do you do? How do you do?--Very well. she found herself necessarily overhearing the discourse of Mrs.--Upon my word. Mrs. I understand. and in compliment to the Westons--who I have no doubt are giving this ball chiefly to do me honour--I would not wish to be inferior to others. how do you do?-Very well I thank you. How do you do. this is charming to be standing about among such friends! And such a noble fire!--I am quite roasted. I must tell you my mother's spectacles have never been in fault since. by and bye.-So Frank Churchill is a capital dancer. Frank Churchill. Frank Churchill?-Ah! here's Miss Woodhouse. Otway. the rivet never came out again.--Such a host of friends!--and Mr. Hughes.--Oh! Mr. And I see very few pearls in the room except mine.-She did it all herself. Every thing so good!" Frank Churchill returned to his station by Emma." . Mrs. My mother often talks of your good-nature. and Miss Otway and Miss Caroline. George and Mr. compliments very quietly and properly taken. Quite wonderful how she does her hair!-No hairdresser from London I think could. Elton and Miss Fairfax. Hughes I declare-and Mrs. Richard?--I saw you the other day as you rode through the town--Mrs. No coffee. you do look--how do you like Jane's hair?--You are a judge.--no hurry--Oh! here it comes.--We shall see if our styles suit. Arthur!--How do you do? How do you all do?--Quite well. Must go and speak to Dr. I know (eyeing Emma most complacently)--that would be rude--but upon my word. After a good many compliments to Jane on her dress and look. Never better.-Don't I hear another carriage?--Who can this be?--very likely the worthy Coles. Jane?--Do not we often talk of Mr. sir. This is meeting quite in fairy-land!-Such a transformation!--Must not compliment. "How do you like my gown?--How do you like my trimming?-How has Wright done my hair?"--with many other relative questions. Whether he were overhearing too. Otway.--Dear Miss Woodhouse. she could not determine. when every body's eyes are so much upon me. I thank you. I am much obliged to you. is not it?--Where's dear Mr.--He was thoughtful. This is delightful.--Ah! Dr. Miss Woodhouse.

which must be laid before Emma. and boasted himself an engaged man. and did not want to hear more." "You are ungrateful. "And what are we to do for a proper partner for her?" said Mr.-- . Weston. which interfered with all their wishes of giving Emma that distinction. I thought you would begin to be impatient for tidings of us." Frank turned instantly to Emma. she could not lose by the change. and his wife was exclaiming. for though she had intended to begin with Frank Churchill.-"That is easy--but Miss Fairfax does not disapprove it. Elton must be asked to begin the ball. in our seclusion?-I was this moment telling Jane. I suppose. Weston that Mrs.At this moment Frank began talking so vigorously. Elton. he seemed in an odd humour. Emma must submit to stand second to Mrs. which was done pretty soon. Mr. Weston and Mrs. to claim her former promise. though she had always considered the ball as peculiarly for her. at this time. Elton had just joined them. in vanity completely gratified.--Mr. Elton had undoubtedly the advantage. Mrs.-Mr. Elton?" said Emma in a whisper. He had met with them in a little perplexity. "Oh! you have found us out at last. Mr. Weston might be his son's superior. Elton's tones again distinctly forward. He walked off to find his father. that she would expect it. "She will think Frank ought to ask her. Weston. "Not at all. Frank Churchill and Miss Woodhouse followed. do not tell me--I do not want to know what you mean. with a look of surprize and displeasure. and that their business was to help to persuade him into it.--Emma heard the sad truth with fortitude. and Mrs. but was quickly back again with both Mr. have you. It was almost enough to make her think of marrying." "Ungrateful!--What do you mean?" Then changing from a frown to a smile--"No. Elton led the way. Weston was wanting him to dance with Mrs. that Emma could not but imagine he had overheard his own praises. It had just occurred to Mrs." "How do you like Mrs. which his father looked his most perfect approbation of--and it then appeared that Mrs." "Jane!"--repeated Frank Churchill. till another suspension brought Mrs.-Where is my father?--When are we to begin dancing?" Emma could hardly understand him. Elton himself.--and the voices of the ladies were drowned for a while.

excepting her own partner. however. was indubitable. she did not feel afraid. He did not omit being sometimes directly . he ought to be dancing. as if to shew his liberty. and those few steps were enough to prove in how gentlemanlike a manner. than where he had placed himself. She wished he could love a ballroom better. that how there could be any one disengaged was the wonder!--But Emma's wonder lessened soon afterwards. would he but take the trouble. which is seldom bestowed till after a ball has ceased to be. and walked about in front of them. where he ought not to be. she forced him to smile. His tall. firm. There was one. delighted to see the respectable length of the set as it was forming. there was not one among the whole row of young men who could be compared with him. Emma was smiling with enjoyment. very recordable events. with what natural grace. and Harriet had no partner. were not thrown away. however.--The two last dances before supper were begun.-and so equal had been hitherto the number of dancers. among the bulky forms and stooping shoulders of the elderly men. but in general he was looking grave. and to feel that she had so many hours of unusual festivity before her. among the standers-by. which Emma thought something of. He would not ask Harriet to dance if it were possible to be avoided: she was sure he would not--and she was expecting him every moment to escape into the card-room. Escape. on seeing Mr.--not classing himself with the husbands. however.--Whenever she caught his eye. The ball proceeded pleasantly. the incessant attentions of Mrs. There was nothing like flirtation between her and her partner.--There he was. was such as Emma felt must draw every body's eyes.--so young as he looked!-He could not have appeared to greater advantage perhaps anywhere. Every body seemed happy. than lovers. Elton sauntering about.-He seemed often observing her. and his resolution of maintaining it. They seemed more like cheerful. he must have danced. Knightley's not dancing than by any thing else. and could like Frank Churchill better. was not his plan. The anxious cares.--He moved a few steps nearer. spoke to some. who were pretending to feel an interest in the dance till their rubbers were made up. and the praise of being a delightful ball. That Frank Churchill thought less of her than he had done.--the only young lady sitting down. He came to the part of the room where the sitters-by were collected. upright figure. and fathers. easy friends. Weston. Of very important. but if he were criticising her behaviour. it was not more productive than such meetings usually are. and whist-players.-She was more disturbed by Mr. She must not flatter herself that he thought of her dancing.In spite of this little rub. was repeatedly given in the very beginning of the existence of this. and.

the whole group were exactly behind her. seldom more delighted. gentle Mr. but Mr. Weston. and had therefore leisure to look around. Weston. was not only listening also." "Me!--oh! no--I would get you a better partner than myself. Knightley leading Harriet to the set!--Never had she been more surprized. that she heard every syllable of a dialogue which just then took place between him and Mrs. but there is a young lady disengaged whom I should be very glad to see dancing--Miss Smith." "Miss Smith!--oh!--I had not observed. and by only turning her head a little she saw it all. When she was half-way up the set. Weston. though beginning to feel myself rather an old married man. Her heart was in a glow. and that my dancing days are over. than at that instant. and Emma could imagine with what surprize and mortification she must be returning to her seat. and though too distant for speech.--The kind-hearted. Weston had left her seat to join him and say. Gilbert does not mean to dance. She was not yet dancing.--Mr." "If Mrs. but even encouraging him by significant glances. In another moment a happier sight caught her. She was all pleasure and gratitude. if you will dance with me. or speaking to those who were close to her. and she perceived that his wife. Gilbert wishes to dance. gentle Mrs. her countenance said much. Elton?" to which his prompt reply was. Weston said no more." said he. he had joined Mr. she was working her way up from the bottom. This was Mr. it would give me very great pleasure at any time to stand up with an old friend like Mrs. I am sure--for. as soon as she could catch his eye again. at your command--but my dancing days are over. Any thing else I should be most happy to do." Mrs. Knightley at a little distance. "I shall have great pleasure. "Most readily. and was arranging himself for settled conversation. Elton! the amiable. who was standing immediately above her. Gilbert.--But my dancing days are over. You will excuse me. and longed to be thanking him. "Do not you dance. She would not look again. while smiles of high glee passed between him and his wife. obliging.-She looked round for a moment. Mrs.--You are extremely obliging-and if I were not an old married man.before Miss Smith. both for Harriet and herself. and she feared her face might be as hot. Mrs. Elton was so near." "Mrs. .-Emma saw it. and she would no longer allow her eyes to watch. Mr. Elton. I am no dancer.

oh! you are too obliging! How well you put it on!--so gratified! Excellent dancing indeed!-Yes. Weston begs you to put on your tippet.--she spoke some of her feelings. till her being seated at table and taking up her spoon. how elegant she looks!--Beautiful lace!--Now we all follow in her train. Jane on one arm. perhaps Mr. my dear Jane. looking (Emma trusted) very foolish. though growing very like her. and Miss Bates might be heard from that moment. a vast deal of chat. just as I told you. Quite the queen of the evening!--Well. Grandmama was quite well. she bounded higher than ever. indeed you must. The move began. Jane. Elton had retreated into the card-room. to help grandmama to bed. take care of the two steps. without interruption. biscuits and baked apples and wine before she came away: amazing luck in some of her throws: and she inquired a great deal about you. Woodhouse. if it had not been for the cruel state of things before.--I set off without saying a word.--Tea was made downstairs. Elton. Sir. stop. dear Mrs. my dear. She did not think he was quite so hardened as his wife. how you were amused. How very odd! I was convinced there were two. I never saw any . and got back again. Mr. though every thing has been done--One door nailed up--Quantities of matting--My dear Jane. and was in a continual course of smiles. Elton is going. Mrs. I do not know who will ask her next. I declare. by observing audibly to her partner. and for the very complete enjoyment and very high sense of the distinction which her happy features announced. extremely good. she will love to tell you all about it herself to-morrow: her first partner was Mr. you are most kind. I was persuaded there were two. `I shall not forestall Jane. "Jane. and who were your partners. "Knightley has taken pity on poor little Miss Smith!--Very goodnatured. William Cox. `Oh!' said I. Well. Mr. as I said I should. and backgammon. Oh! no. George Otway. She says she is afraid there will be draughts in the passage. you are too obliging. flew farther down the middle. where are you?--Here is your tippet. Jane. and nobody missed me.--Is there nobody you would not rather?--I am not helpless. had a charming evening with Mr. Mrs. and me on the other!--Stop. I ran home. Churchill.' My dear sir. let us stand a little back. Two steps.His dancing proved to be just what she had believed it. here we are at the passage. there is but one. It was not thrown away on her." Supper was announced. I left her dancing with Mr. and there is but one. and Harriet would have seemed almost too lucky. Elton. Upon my word.

I suspect. He was warm in his reprobation of Mr. Jane. you know. when they were all in the ballroom again. Dear Jane. but confess. Now there is nothing grandmama loves better than sweetbread and asparagus-so she was rather disappointed. her eyes invited him irresistibly to come to her and be thanked. "They aimed at wounding more than Harriet. and good Mr." "I did. whatever he may be. this is brilliant! I am all amazement! could not have supposed any thing!--Such elegance and profusion!--I have seen nothing like it since-Well. Elton's conduct. What you direct in this house cannot be wrong. where shall we sit? where shall we sit? Anywhere. Churchill-only it seems too good--but just as you please. and Mrs." replied Emma. for fear of its getting round to dear Miss Woodhouse. that you did want him to marry Harriet. but there was a delicate fricassee of sweetbread and some asparagus brought in at first. Elton's looks also received the due share of censure.--To that surmise. but it smells most excellent. I am sure. but we agreed we would not speak of it to any body.--I was telling you of your grandmama. and he only said.--There was a little disappointment. added. Mr. how shall we ever recollect half the dishes for grandmama? Soup too! Bless me! I should not be helped so soon. Knightley till after supper. who would be so very much concerned!--Well." Emma had no opportunity of speaking to Mr." "Can you trust me with such flatterers?--Does my vain spirit ever tell me I am wrong?" . it had been unpardonable rudeness. sent it all out again. on receiving no answer. and. you say nothing. "and they cannot forgive me. "She ought not to be angry with you." He shook his head. not thinking the asparagus quite boiled enough. Woodhouse. but. Emma. "Emma. Oh! do you recommend this side?--Well. so that Jane is not in a draught. why is it that they are your enemies?" He looked with smiling penetration.thing equal to the comfort and style--Candles everywhere. excellent in their way. of course. "I shall not scold you." said he. Where I sit is of no consequence. I leave you to your own reflections. but there was a smile of indulgence with it. and I cannot help beginning.-The baked apples and biscuits.

" Emma was extremely gratified. I am sure the other tells you of it.--Harriet Smith has some first-rate qualities. An unpretending. and she looked . Elton. It was through a series of strange blunders!" "And. Elton." "Will you?" said he. indeed. "Come Miss Woodhouse. that you would have chosen for him better than he has chosen for himself. what are you all doing?-Come Emma." Volume Three Chapter Three This little explanation with Mr. I found Harriet more conversable than I expected. which she walked about the lawn the next morning to enjoy. There is a littleness about him which you discovered. Knightley gave Emma considerable pleasure. "With you. which for a few minutes had threatened to ruin the rest of her evening. single-minded.--They were interrupted by the bustle of Mr. Miss Otway. his concession in her favour. was peculiarly gratifying. if you will ask me. You have shewn that you can dance. set your companions the example." "I do own myself to have been completely mistaken in Mr. "whenever I am wanted. artless girl-infinitely to be preferred by any man of sense and taste to such a woman as Mrs. and then replied. but your serious spirit. "Indeed I will. Elton is totally without. Knightley." "Whom are you going to dance with?" asked Mr.--If one leads you wrong. Every body is lazy! Every body is asleep!" "I am ready. Weston calling on every body to begin dancing again. It was one of the agreeable recollections of the ball." "Brother and sister! no. in return for your acknowledging so much.--She was extremely glad that they had come to so good an understanding respecting the Eltons. which Mrs. had been the occasion of some of its highest satisfactions. The impertinence of the Eltons. I will do you the justice to say."Not your vain spirit. offering his hand. and his praise of Harriet. Miss Fairfax. and you know we are not really so much brother and sister as to make it at all improper." said Emma. and that their opinions of both husband and wife were so much alike. She hesitated a moment. and which I did not: and I was fully convinced of his being in love with Harriet.

and taken a road. gave a great scream.-From Harriet's manner of speaking of the circumstance before they quitted the ballroom. excessively frightened. Goddard's. Such events are very interesting.-they were all three soon in the hall. as he was to be at home by the middle of the day. which. and surprizes be explained. and Miss Bickerton. Miss Smith. on a broader patch of greensward by the side. and two persons entered whom she had never less expected to see together--Frank Churchill. though apparently public enough for safety. and calling on Harriet to follow her. as well as of their grandpapa. She did not regret it. and Harriet immediately sinking into a chair fainted away. who had been also at the ball. had led them into alarm. Elton was not the superior creature she had believed him. cleared a slight hedge at the top. Harriet looked white and frightened. and deeply shaded by elms on each side. how very happy a summer must be before her! She was not to see Frank Churchill this morning. must be recovered. . when the great iron sweep-gate opened. and Emma could harbour little fear of the pulse being quickened again by injurious courtesy. and Mr. the Richmond road. making a sudden turn. had walked out together. a party of gipsies. and he was trying to cheer her. it became for a considerable stretch very retired. but the suspense of them cannot last long. ran up a steep bank. A few minutes made Emma acquainted with the whole. Having arranged all these matters. A young lady who faints. another parlour boarder at Mrs. looked them through.-The iron gates and the front-door were not twenty yards asunder. Knightley not wanting to quarrel with her. questions must be answered. She depended on the evil feelings of the Eltons for supplying all the discipline of pointed neglect that could be farther requisite.--About half a mile beyond Highbury.forward to another happy result--the cure of Harriet's infatuation. and put them all to rights. she had strong hopes. Frank Churchill not too much in love. she was just turning to the house with spirits freshened up for the demands of the two little boys. came towards them to beg. they had suddenly perceived at a small distance before them. A child on the watch. and she were enabled to see that Mr. with Harriet leaning on his arm--actually Harriet!--A moment sufficed to convince her that something extraordinary had happened. He had told her that he could not allow himself the pleasure of stopping at Hartfield. and when the young ladies had advanced some way into it. It seemed as if her eyes were suddenly opened. The fever was over.--Harriet rational. and Miss Bickerton.

and notice of there being such a set of people in the neighbourhood to Mr. and being on foot. Goddard. How the trampers might have behaved. and hardly able to speak. and Emma engaging to give assurance of her safety to Mrs. or rather surrounded. She had suffered very much from cramp after dancing. and taking out her purse. with all the grateful blessings that she could utter for her friend and herself.--She was then able to walk. he had been obliged to stop at her door. But poor Harriet could not follow. but such an invitation for attack could not be resisted. gave them a shilling. and leave his horses to meet him by another road. and begged them not to want more. Knightley. and her first attempt to mount the bank brought on such a return of it as made her absolutely powerless-and in this state. though but slowly. had the young ladies been more courageous. must be doubtful. all clamorous. and Harriet eagerly clinging to him. and go in for a few minutes: he was therefore later than he had intended. It was his idea to bring her to Hartfield: he had thought of no other place.and made the best of her way by a short cut back to Highbury. In this state Frank Churchill had found her. and was moving away--but her terror and her purse were too tempting. headed by a stout woman and a great boy. He had left them completely frightened. though not absolutely in word.-He dared not stay longer than to see her well. or to use her ill. by the whole gang. he set off. demanding more. and exceedingly terrified. had just strength enough to reach Hartfield. By a most fortunate chance his leaving Highbury had been delayed so as to bring him to her assistance at this critical moment. they loud and insolent. before her spirits were quite overcome. and she was followed. and Harriet was soon assailed by half a dozen children. The terror which the woman and boy had been creating in Harriet was then their own portion. and to have forgotten to restore them. a mile or two beyond Highbury-and happening to have borrowed a pair of scissors the night before of Miss Bates. . she had been obliged to remain. these several delays left him not another minute to lose. and impertinent in look.--More and more frightened. she trembling and conditioning. This was the amount of the whole story. she immediately promised them money. The pleasantness of the morning had induced him to walk forward.--of his communication and of Harriet's as soon as she had recovered her senses and speech. was unseen by the whole party till almost close to them.

Such an adventure as this. She would not stir a step. and just at last. and all the youth and servants in the place were soon in the happiness of frightful news. nor drop a hint. her fervour as she seized and clung to his arm. It was some comfort to him that many . Beyond it she would on no account proceed. It was the very event to engage those who talk most. with a sensibility amused and delighted. no alarm of the kind. and. Emma's first resolution was to keep her father from the knowledge of what had passed. within her memory. Every thing was to take its natural course. It seemed as if every thing united to promise the most interesting consequences. at least. It was no more than a wish. be on fire with speculation and foresight!--especially with such a groundwork of anticipation as her mind had already made. Woodhouse trembled as he sat. it struck her the more. could a grammarian. Could a linguist. Elton. the favourable state of mind of each at this period. There could be no harm in a scheme. Within half an hour it was known all over Highbury. he had spoken of her terror. In the few minutes' conversation which she had yet had with him. like herself. as she did. It was a very extraordinary thing! Nothing of the sort had ever occurred before to any young ladies in the place. No. and at the very hour.--a fine young man and a lovely young woman thrown together in such a way. The last night's ball seemed lost in the gipsies. he had expressed his indignation at the abominable folly of Miss Bickerton in the warmest terms. while Harriet had been partially insensible. would scarcely be satisfied without their promising never to go beyond the shrubbery again. and heard their history of it. no rencontre. So Emma thought. as Emma had foreseen. however. she had had enough of interference. could even a mathematician have seen what she did.--aware of the anxiety and alarm it would occasion: but she soon felt that concealment must be impossible. when the other very person was chancing to pass by to rescue her!--It certainly was very extraordinary!--And knowing. her naivete. have witnessed their appearance together. a mere passive scheme. It was not possible that the occurrence should not be strongly recommending each to the other.--and now it had happened to the very person. the young and the low. neither impelled nor assisted. Poor Mr. could hardly fail of suggesting certain ideas to the coldest heart and the steadiest brain. He was wishing to get the better of his attachment to herself. after Harriet's own account had been given. without feeling that circumstances had been at work to make them peculiarly interesting to each other?--How much more must an imaginist. she just recovering from her mania for Mr.

" she continued. Emma would not interfere with. "It seems like madness! I can see nothing at all extraordinary in him now. There was a seriousness in Harriet's manner which prepared her. it is very fit that you should have the satisfaction of knowing it. . The gipsies did not wait for the operations of justice. and I dare say you understand me. as well as Miss Smith. though not exactly true. it will be over." "Yes. thus began: "Miss Woodhouse--if you are at leisure--I have something that I should like to tell you--a sort of confession to make--and then. but begged her to speak. "It is my duty. I do not want to say more than is necessary--I am too much ashamed of having given way as I have done.inquiries after himself and Miss Woodhouse (for his neighbours knew that he loved to be inquired after). and I am sure it is my wish. for she was perfectly well. were coming in during the rest of the day. and still tenaciously setting her right if she varied in the slightest particular from the original recital. and after sitting down and hesitating. for she hardly knew what indisposition was. and Henry and John were still asking every day for the story of Harriet and the gipsies. quite as much as her words." Emma was a good deal surprized. they took themselves off in a hurry. she could make no figure in a message." cried Harriet. and Harriet not much otherwise. and if he did not invent illnesses for her. She had an unhappy state of health in general for the child of such a man. for something more than ordinary. when Harriet came one morning to Emma with a small parcel in her hand. that they were all very indifferent-which." said Emma. The young ladies of Highbury might have walked again in safety before their panic began. ." "How I could so long a time be fancying myself! . and the whole history dwindled soon into a matter of little importance but to Emma and her nephews:--in her imagination it maintained its ground. As I am happily quite an altered creature in one respect.--I do not care whether I meet him or not--except that of the two I had rather not see him-and indeed I would go any distance round to avoid him--but I do . warmly. Volume Three Chapter Four A very few days had passed after this adventure. you know. "I hope I do. and he had the pleasure of returning for answer. "to have no reserves with you on this subject.

as you had none about you. excepting the cotton. Emma saw only a small piece of court-plaister. which Harriet opened: it was well lined with the softest cotton. and so I took mine out and cut him a piece. but. you desired me to supply him. Remember it? Aye." She held the parcel towards her. all. I neither admire her nor envy her. indeed I do not." said Harriet. I assure you. and Emma read the words Most precious treasures on the top." "My dearest Harriet!" cried Emma. Her curiosity was greatly excited. except your saving ." "No. and looked at it now and then as a great treat.--Do not you remember his cutting his finger with your new penknife." "Dear me! I should not have thought it possible you could forget what passed in this very room about court-plaister. and he cut it smaller. Within abundance of silver paper was a pretty little Tunbridge-ware box. but it was a great deal too large. it will not give me another moment's pang: and to convince you that I have been speaking truth. with a conscious look. that you may see how rational I am grown. I am now going to destroy--what I ought to have destroyed long ago--what I ought never to have kept-I know that very well (blushing as she spoke). and she looked on with impatience. I wish her no evil. one of the very last times we ever met in it!--It was but a very few days before I had my sore throat--just before Mr. but they are things that I have valued very much. as I have done: she is very charming. but I think her very ill-tempered and disagreeable--I shall never forget her look the other night!--However. and Mrs. I could not help making a treasure of it-so I put it by never to be used. now I will destroy it all--and it is my particular wish to do it in your presence. and your recommending court-plaister?-But.not envy his wife in the least. I remember it all now. and jumping up. and all that.--Did he ever give you any thing?" "No--I cannot call them gifts. Miss Woodhouse. Harriet unfolded the parcel. John Knightley came-I think the very evening. "you must recollect. in my nonsense. before he gave it back to me. Cannot you guess what this parcel holds?" said she. and kept playing some time with what was left. And so then. "Now.--However. and knew I had. let them be ever so happy together. putting her hand before her face. I dare say. "you make me more ashamed of myself than I can bear.--No. "Not the least in the world.

" "I do remember it." resumed Harriet.--Oh! yes--Mr. you did it so naturally. but when he took out his pencil. Knightley was standing just here.this relic--I knew nothing of that till this moment--but the cutting the finger. Mr. and he wanted to put it down. so you lent him another. "Lord bless me! when should I ever have thought of putting by in cotton a piece of court-plaister that Frank Churchill had been pulling about! I never was equal to this. caught it up. Mr. as soon as I dared. Elton's seeming resolved to learn to like it too. "I perfectly remember it. But one morning--I forget exactly the day--but perhaps it was the Tuesday or Wednesday before that evening.--"Do not you remember one morning?--no. Elton was sitting here. which the court-plaister never did. I remember. Knightley and I both saying we liked it. much about where I am now. and saying I had none about me!--Oh! my sins. because this is what did really once belong to him. But I kept my eye on it.--the part without any lead. and never parted with it again from that moment. Knightley had been telling him something about brewing spruce-beer. "here is something still more valuable."-- .--It is very odd. I dare say you do not. I perfectly remember it." "And so you actually put this piece of court-plaister by for his sake!" said Emma. "This was really his." Emma was quite eager to see this superior treasure. and Mr. and this was left upon the table as good for nothing.--Well--(sitting down again)-go on--what else?" "And had you really some at hand yourself? I am sure I never suspected it. And secretly she added to herself. turning to her box again. he wanted to make a memorandum in his pocket-book." "Ah! I do not know. I mean that has been more valuable.-Talking about spruce-beer." said Harriet. I cannot recollect.--Stop. It was the end of an old pencil." cried Emma. my sins!--And I had plenty all the while in my pocket!--One of my senseless tricks!--I deserve to be under a continual blush all the rest of my life." "Here. was not he? I have an idea he was standing just here. and my recommending court-plaister. but I cannot recollect. and. and it would not do. there was so little lead that he soon cut it all away.--Mr. recovering from her state of shame and feeling divided between wonder and amusement. it was about spruce-beer.

" "It is one that I shall never change." replied Harriet. thank Heaven! of Mr. Churchill?" She had soon afterwards reason to believe that the beginning was already made. Elton?" . replied. though she had told no fortune. and quite undesignedly. "I shall never marry.-There it goes. I must get rid of every thing. It was very wrong of me. but the court-plaister might be useful. "It has a disagreeable look to me. and wish I could forget as easily as I can burn them. go on. and I wish you to see me do it." thought Emma. I knew it was--but had not resolution enough to part with them. in the course of some trivial chat. I have nothing more to shew you. might be proved to have made Harriet's. whenever you marry I would advise you to do so and so"--and thought no more of it. after he was married."Well. "Never marry!--This is a new resolution. to keep any remembrances. simpleton as I was!--but I am quite ashamed of it now. till after a minute's silence she heard Harriet say in a very serious tone. "Well. "I hope it does not proceed from-I hope it is not in compliment to Mr." After another short hesitation. as to whether it should pass unnoticed or not. is it necessary to burn the court-plaister?--I have not a word to say for the bit of old pencil. and there is an end. Elton. you know." Emma then looked up. and after a moment's debate. they came to a sufficient explanation. or to say-except that I am now going to throw them both behind the fire." "Oh! that's all.--About a fortnight after the alarm. and immediately saw how it was. which made the information she received more valuable." "My poor dear Harriet! and have you actually found happiness in treasuring up these things?" "Yes. however. She merely said." "But. "will there be a beginning of Mr. Harriet. and could not but hope that the gipsy. Harriet. Emma was not thinking of it at the moment." "And when." "I shall be happier to burn it.

-Yes. Elton indeed!" cried Harriet indignantly. Be observant of him. I think. on any application of the sort. results from an idea that the person whom you might prefer. unless you are persuaded of his liking you. it might only drive Harriet into asking her to hear too much. would be too greatly your superior in situation to think of you. and it would be safer for both. which are so proper. or rather your expectation of never marrying. Harriet. with the gratitude. in me especially. It is natural. I do not by any means engage for its being returned. and it is honourable. wonder. and veneration. and all that I felt at the time-when I saw him coming--his noble look--and my wretchedness before. The service he rendered you was enough to warm your heart.-She was decided. Should she proceed no farther?--should she let it pass. Such a change! In one moment such a change! From perfect misery to perfect happiness!" "It is very natural. or perhaps if she were totally silent. honourable." "Service! oh! it was such an inexpressible obligation!-The very recollection of it. Plain dealing was always best. and against any thing like such an unreserve as had been.--"Oh! no"--and Emma could just catch the words.--But it is a pleasure to me to admire him at a distance--and to think of his infinite superiority to all the rest of the world." "I am not at all surprized at you. and thus spoke-"Harriet."Mr. Elton!" She then took a longer time for consideration. and seem to suspect nothing?-Perhaps Harriet might think her cold or angry if she did. Harriet. she was perfectly resolved. to have the judicious law of her own brain laid down with speed.-But that it will be a fortunate preference is more that I can promise. to chuse so well and so gratefully. believe me I have not the presumption to suppose-Indeed I am not so mad. She had previously determined how far she would proceed. such an open and frequent discussion of hopes and chances. Is not it so?" "Oh! Miss Woodhouse. I will not affect to be in doubt of your meaning. Perhaps it will be wisest in you to check your feelings while you can: at any rate do not let them carry you far. "so superior to Mr. Let his behaviour be the . all that she meant to say and know.-She believed it would be wiser for her to say and know at once. Consider what you are about. I do not advise you to give way to it. Your resolution.

having once observed. instead of Midsummer. but there were symptoms of intelligence between them--he thought so at least-symptoms of admiration on his side. and Jane. fixed for it. That Emma was his object appeared indisputable. had certainly taken an early dislike to Frank Churchill. and hopes. I am determined against all interference. for some reason best known to himself. Its tendency would be to raise and refine her mind-and it must be saving her from the danger of degradation. his own attentions. Knightley. because I shall never speak to you again on the subject. however it may end. and he had seen a look. and connivance. is a mark of good taste which I shall always know how to value. at Miss Fairfax. He began to suspect him of some double dealing in his pursuit of Emma. Harriet. and indiscretion. June opened upon Hartfield. more than a single look. Elton's activity in her service. He was dining with the Randalls family. she was likely to remain there full two months longer. I would not have you too sanguine. and Jane Fairfax was still at her grandmother's. there have been matches of greater disparity. be assured your raising your thoughts to him. and save herself from being hurried into a delightful situation against her will. But take care of yourself. no doubt. Let no name ever pass our lips." Harriet kissed her hand in silent and submissive gratitude. I give you this caution now. he could not persuade himself to think entirely void of meaning. Every thing declared it. To Highbury in general it brought no material change. and as the return of the Campbells from Ireland was again delayed. it was all in unison. and of the use to be made of their barouche-landau. and August. which. Mr. at the Eltons'. more wonderful things have taken place. though. his father's hints. however he might wish to escape any of Emma's errors of imagination. provided at least she were able to defeat Mrs. We were very wrong before. conduct. who. He could not understand it. The Eltons were still talking of a visit from the Sucklings. She was not present when the suspicion first arose.guide of your sensations. discretion. but yet. his mother-in-law's guarded silence. which. Emma was very decided in thinking such an attachment no bad thing for her friend. Henceforward I know nothing of the matter. Knightley began to suspect him of some inclination to trifle with Jane Fairfax. was only growing to dislike him more. . and there do seem objections and obstacles of a very serious nature. Mr. told the same story. and Emma herself making him over to Harriet. But while so many were devoting him to Emma. we will be cautious now.--He is your superior. words. Volume Three Chapter Five In this state of schemes.

As they were turning into the grounds. as she thought his being out in bad weather did him a great deal of harm. "By the bye. "I did not know that he ever had any such plan. Perry's plan of setting up his carriage?" Mrs. like themselves. as the weather threatened rain. to spend his evening at Hartfield." . and. who had accidentally met. Weston and their son. which few persons listened to. You wrote me word of it three months ago. and was extremely happy about it. on returning. You mentioned it as what was certainly to be very soon. I had it from you. Perry passed by on horseback. The Randalls party agreed to it immediately." "Me! impossible!" "Indeed you did." said Frank Churchill to Mrs. pressed them all to go in and drink tea with him. Mr. The gentlemen spoke of his horse. and. as he very often did." "Nay. Emma. Weston looked surprized. he joined them.from the admirer of Miss Woodhouse. of private understanding even. Emma and Harriet were going to walk. He had walked up one day after dinner. nor could he avoid observations which. on reaching Hartfield gates. It was owing to her persuasion. "what became of Mr. "Myself creating what I saw. and after a pretty long speech from Miss Bates. he could not help remembering what he had seen. unless it were like Cowper and his fire at twilight. and said. who. they fell in with a larger party. When he was again in their company. she also found it possible to accept dear Miss Woodhouse's most obliging invitation. Miss Bates and her niece. seemed somewhat out of place. Mr. between Frank Churchill and Jane. judged it wisest to take their exercise early. Perry had told somebody." brought him yet stronger suspicion of there being a something of private liking. who knew it was exactly the sort of visiting that would be welcome to her father. Mrs. and Mrs. They all united. You must remember it now?" "Upon my word I never heard of it till this moment. Weston presently. I remember it perfectly.

what a heap of absurdities it is! Well. I dream of every body at Highbury when I am away-and when I have gone through my particular friends. laughing. Jane. Perry's setting up his carriage! and his wife's persuading him to it. "that you should have had such a regular connected dream about people whom it was not very likely you should be thinking of at Enscombe. there is no denying that Mr. I must acknowledge that there was such an idea last spring. you walk as if you were tired. only a little premature. I have no doubt. Perry was very anxious that he should have a carriage. and was beyond the reach of Mr. with all these particulars--but as she declares she never heard a syllable of it before. had you?" "No. Frank Churchill might have--I do not mean to say that he did not dream it--I am sure I have sometimes the oddest dreams in the world--but if I am questioned about it. known to nobody else. Emma. Frank." "What is this?--What is this?" cried Mr. for Mrs. some time or other. Weston's hint. "I seem to have had it from nobody. Weston. "if I must speak on this subject. Weston's having mentioned it in one of her letters to Enscombe. Perry. then I begin dreaming of Mr." cried Miss Bates. to own the truth. I am a great dreamer. Perry herself mentioned it to my mother." replied his son."Never! really. Mrs." "It is odd though. sir. and came to my mother in great spirits one morning because she thought she had prevailed. You had it from himself. of course it must have been a dream. and Mrs. who had been trying in vain to be heard the last two minutes. many weeks ago.--Very odd!--I really was persuaded of Mrs. and only thought of about three days. I think?" Emma was out of hearing. your dream certainly shews that Highbury is in your thoughts when you are absent. Frank? I am glad he can afford it. and the Coles knew of it as well as ourselves--but it was quite a secret. You will not be sorry to find yourself at home. out of care for his health-just what will happen. you are a great dreamer. She had hurried on before her guests to prepare her father for their appearance. "Why. don't you remember grandmama's telling us of it when we got home? I forget where we had been walking to-- . never!--Bless me! how could it be?--Then I must have dreamt it--but I was completely persuaded--Miss Smith." observed his father. "about Perry and a carriage? Is Perry going to set up his carriage. What an air of probability sometimes runs through a dream! And at others.

or for any body else who would be puzzled. Where is she?--Oh! just behind. but she was indeed behind. where he thought he saw confusion suppressed or laughed away. who had often been distressed by the more animated sort. indeed!" They were entering the hall. and looked at neither. and now and then I have let a thing escape me which I should not. The dream must be borne with. I will answer for it she never betrayed the least thing in the world.very likely to Randalls. Weston had occasionally introduced. she had no objection to her telling us. Perry's coming. There was no time for farther remark or explanation. and nobody seemed in a hurry to move. Mr. yes. They were rapidly forming words for each other. the table was quickly scattered over with alphabets. "have your nephews taken away their alphabets--their box of letters? It used to stand here. Mr. and who now sat happily . after examining a table behind him. and producing the box. I wish I were. Mr." Emma was pleased with the thought. because I know I do sometimes pop out a thing before I am aware. which he could reach as he sat. Knightley suspected in Frank Churchill the determination of catching her eye-he seemed watching her intently--in vain. From Frank Churchill's face. from that day to this. I never mentioned it to a soul that I know of. and which none but Emma could have had power to place there and persuade her father to use. but it was not to go beyond: and. that ought to be treated rather as winter than summer. I think it was to Randalls. I am a talker.-Extraordinary dream. he had involuntarily turned to hers. Woodhouse. At the same time. which Mr. Weston had walked in. I want to puzzle you again. and Mr. on which two of his daily meals had. if it were so-Jane passed between them into the hall. Mrs. "Miss Woodhouse. Where is it? This is a sort of dull-looking evening." said Frank Churchill. and too busy with her shawl. however. which no one seemed so much disposed to employ as their two selves. for forty years been crowded. We had great amusement with those letters one morning. Perfectly remember Mrs. The two other gentlemen waited at the door to let her pass. Perry was always particularly fond of my mother--indeed I do not know who is not--and she had mentioned it to her in confidence. I am not like Jane. Knightley's eyes had preceded Miss Bates's in a glance at Jane. I am rather a talker. of course. I will not positively answer for my having never dropt a hint. instead of the small-sized Pembroke. The quietness of the game made it particularly eligible for Mr. Tea passed pleasantly. you know. Knightley must take his seat with the rest round the large modern circular table which Emma had introduced at Hartfield.

and Harriet. and finding out none. over the departure of the "poor little boys. and turned to him for help. It was a child's play. how beautifully Emma had written it. She gave a slight glance round the table. the discretion of his favourite could have been so lain asleep! He feared there must be some decided involvement. Jane opposite to them--and Mr. He saw that Emma had soon made it out. With great indignation did he continue to observe him. Knightley so placed as to see them all. and found it highly entertaining. She was sitting by Mr. she should have looked on the table instead of looking just across. These letters were but the vehicle for gallantry and trick. indeed. and it was his object to see as much as he could. directly handed over the word to Miss Fairfax. "I will give it to her--shall I?"--and as clearly heard Emma opposing it with eager laughing warmth. How the delicacy." It was done however. with tender melancholy.occupied in lamenting. and given to her with a look sly and demure. and with a faint smile pushed away. Jane Fairfax's perception seemed to accompany his. who seemed to love without feeling. This gallant young man. you shall not. with as little apparent observation. Knightley's excessive curiosity to know what this word might be. If meant to be immediately mixed with the others. to observe also his two blinded companions. Disingenuousness and double dealing seemed to meet him at every turn. eager after every fresh word. chosen to conceal a deeper game on Frank Churchill's part. Frank Churchill placed a word before Miss Fairfax." or in fondly pointing out. no. Mr. The word was blunder. Knightley. with great alarm and distrust. and it was not long before he saw it to be Dixon. as he took up any stray letter near him. directly took it up. Frank was next to Emma. made him seize every possible moment for darting his eye towards it. of those five letters . there was a blush on Jane's cheek which gave it a meaning not otherwise ostensible. and applied herself to it. The word was discovered. you must not. "No. but how it could all be. "Nonsense! for shame!" He heard Frank Churchill next say. and fell to work. though it was something which she judged it proper to appear to censure. and buried from sight. the superior intelligence. Knightley connected it with the dream. and to recommend himself without complaisance. He saw a short word prepared for Emma. her comprehension was certainly more equal to the covert meaning. for she said. Mr. for it was not mixed. and with a particular degree of sedate civility entreated her to study it. was beyond his comprehension. with a glance towards Jane. and as Harriet exultingly proclaimed it.

It was his duty. she was really ashamed of having ever imparted them. My dear sir. She was immediately up. but so many were also moving. Emma. She was afterwards looking for her shawl--Frank Churchill was looking also--it was growing dusk. and looked resolved to be engaged by no other word that could be offered. The evening is closing in. without trying to preserve her. Her face was averted from those who had made the attack. you are too obliging. and am curious to know how it could be so very entertaining to the one." said he. his thoughts full of what he had seen." he replied gravely. "may I ask in what lay the great amusement. and grandmama will be looking for us. "Pray." pushed away the letters with even an angry spirit. and wanting to quit the table. Mr. as a friend-an anxious friend--give Emma some hint. He could not see her in a situation of such danger. for though her suspicions were by no means removed." Emma was extremely confused. and seeing herself watched. ask her some question." Jane's alertness in moving. and so very distressing to the other. very true. "it all meant nothing. We really must wish you good night. looked up. he certainly must. She could not endure to give him the true explanation. a mere joke among ourselves. Churchill. proved her as ready as her aunt had preconceived. and saying only. blushed more deeply than he had ever perceived her. "Aye. the poignant sting of the last word given to you and Miss Fairfax? I saw the word. "Oh!" she cried in evident embarrassment." "The joke. that she could not get away." . "seemed confined to you and Mr. Knightley could not tell. though Jane had not spoken a word--"I was just going to say the same thing. He remained at Hartfield after all the rest. and turned towards her aunt. and resolutely swept away by her unexamined. that when the candles came to assist his observations. She was evidently displeased. my dear. and Mr." cried the latter. Knightley thought he saw another collection of letters anxiously pushed towards her. he must--yes. and the room was in confusion. It is time for us to be going indeed. so full. and how they parted. "I did not know that proper names were allowed.so arranged.

He sat a little while in doubt. seemed to declare her affection engaged. Yet he would speak. I presume it to be so on her side." "Oh! you amuse me excessively. Mr. and the appearances which have caught you. and the acknowledged intimacy. Interference-fruitless interference. I will answer for the gentleman's indifference. did such an idea occur to me. and all the wheres and hows of a circumstance which highly entertained her: but his gaiety did not meet hers.He had hoped she would speak again. with a satisfaction which silenced. "do you think you perfectly understand the degree of acquaintance between the gentleman and lady we have been speaking of?" "Between Mr. perfectly. Frank Churchill and Miss Fairfax? Oh! yes. wanting to hear the particulars of his suspicions. Emma's confusion. with earnest kindness. and his feelings were too much irritated for talking. rather than her welfare. He found he could not be useful. to encounter any thing. for the twentieth part of a moment. to risk any thing that might be involved in an unwelcome interference. I am delighted to find that you can vouchsafe to let your imagination wander--but it will not do-very sorry to check you in your first essay--but indeed it will not do. which I did not believe meant to be public. every look described. That is. "My dear Emma. and would have prolonged the conversation. And how could it possibly come into your head?" "I have lately imagined that I saw symptoms of attachment between them-certain expressive looks. and I can answer for its being so on his. which is sense. rather than the remembrance of neglect in such a cause." She spoke with a confidence which staggered. There is no admiration between them. She would rather busy herself about any thing than speak. That he might not be irritated ." said he at last.-Why do you make a doubt of it?" "Have you never at any time had reason to think that he admired her. that they are as far from any attachment or admiration for one another. or that she admired him?" "Never. I do assure you. Knightley. He owed it to her. A variety of evils crossed his mind. as any two beings in the world can be. but she did not. never!" she cried with a most open eagerness--"Never. She was in gay spirits. is. have arisen from some peculiar circumstances--feelings rather of a totally different nature-it is impossible exactly to explain:--there is a good deal of nonsense in it--but the part which is capable of being communicated.

and it was to be done in a quiet. whose happiness it was to be hoped might eventually be as much increased by the arrival of a child. Elton. and that as Mrs. infinitely superior to the bustle and preparation. if she had no objection. So she thought at first.--but a little consideration convinced her that every thing need not be put off. Elton. It was the delay of a great deal of pleasure and parade. This was so very well understood between them. Volume Three Chapter Six After being long fed with hopes of a speedy visit from Mr. It was settled that they should go to Box Hill. as her objection was nothing but her very great dislike of Mrs. Woodhouse's tender habits required almost every evening throughout the year. and she found herself therefore obliged to consent to an arrangement which she . That there was to be such a party had been long generally known: it had even given the idea of another. Two or three more of the chosen only were to be admitted to join them. Her introductions and recommendations must all wait. and walked home to the coolness and solitude of Donwell Abbey. In the daily interchange of news. they must be again restricted to the other topics with which for a while the Sucklings' coming had been united. as her brother and sister had failed her. unpretending. whose health seemed every day to supply a different report. as that of all her neighbours was by the approach of it. Churchill. it was not worth bringing forward again:--it could not be done without a reproof to him. and the situation of Mrs. Now. Why should not they explore to Box Hill though the Sucklings did not come? They could go there again with them in the autumn. Weston.into an absolute fever. so it was to be. Elton had very readily acceded to it. Weston that he had been proposing to Mrs. by the fire which Mr. Weston must already be perfectly aware. and go together. she wished to see what every body found so well worth seeing. which would be giving pain to his wife. and Mrs. Weston had agreed to chuse some fine morning and drive thither. he soon afterwards took a hasty leave. the regular eating and drinking. that the two parties should unite. Suckling. Elton was very much disappointed. elegant way. that Emma could not but feel some surprise. Mrs. on hearing from Mr. such as the last accounts of Mrs. and a little displeasure. Emma had never been to Box Hill. and picnic parade of the Eltons and the Sucklings. No such importation of novelties could enrich their intellectual stores at present. the Highbury world were obliged to endure the mortification of hearing that they could not possibly come till the autumn. and every projected party be still only talked of. and she and Mr. of which Mr.

Knightley did not begin seriously. and it was all melancholy stagnation. "That may be done without horses. One cannot have too large a party. "Is not this most vexations. and nothing done. and Mrs. "But I thought you would." said she." replied Mr. but no preparations could be ventured on. Knightley?" she cried. such a distinguishing compliment as she chose to consider it. "You may depend upon me. when a lame carriage-horse threw every thing into sad uncertainty. "I am glad you approve of what I have done. an arrangement which would probably expose her even to the degradation of being said to be of Mrs. Mrs. for his proposal was caught at with delight. "I certainly will come. and eat my strawberries. One could not leave her out. You will allow me to bring Jane Fairfax?" . and I will come. and the weather fine. Elton's resources were inadequate to such an attack. Before this time last year I assure you we had had a delightful exploring party from Maple Grove to Kings Weston. which seemed a plea for the invitation: but no plea was necessary. cabbage-beds would have been enough to tempt the lady.--"And such weather for exploring!--These delays and disappointments are quite odious. who only wanted to be going somewhere. before the horse were useable. and agreed to none of it in private." Emma denied none of it aloud. She promised him again and again to come--much oftener than he doubted--and was extremely gratified by such a proof of intimacy. Donwell was famous for its strawberry-beds. Elton's party! Every feeling was offended. Knightley. it might be only a few days." was not plainer in words than manner. It might be weeks. A large party secures its own amusement. Come. he was obliged to proceed so." "You had better explore to Donwell. Weston as to pigeon-pies and cold lamb. Name your day. Such schemes as these are nothing without numbers. It was now the middle of June. and settle with Mr. and the "Oh! I should like it of all things.would have done a great deal to avoid. And she is a good-natured woman after all. Elton was growing impatient to name the day. They are ripening fast." If Mr. Weston's temper. and the forbearance of her outward submission left a heavy arrear due of secret severity in her reflections on the unmanageable goodwill of Mr. What are we to do?--The year will wear away at this rate." said he very comfortably.

you know."I cannot name a day. It is to be a morning scheme. I shall wear a large bonnet. "No--Mrs. rather mortified."--he calmly replied. Is not that your idea?" ." "That's quite unnecessary. I will invite your guests." "No. Elton." "Oh! leave all that to me. Don't scruple. quite a simple thing." said he. you know. I will bring friends with me. Quite a humourist. "till I have spoken to some others whom I would wish to meet you. you know.--"there is but one married woman in the world whom I can ever allow to invite what guests she pleases to Donwell.--probably this basket with pink ribbon. I have no objections at all to meeting the Hartfield family.--and whatever else you may like to provide. you see. I know you are attached to them. Leave it all to me.--I am Lady Patroness. Here. Only give me a carte-blanche.--The rest I leave to you. and that one is--" "--Mrs. Knightley. you know." "You certainly will meet them if I can prevail. and sit under trees. and gather the strawberries ourselves. Knightley. it is to be all out of doors--a table spread in the shade. Well. There is to be no form or parade--a sort of gipsy party. and I shall call on Miss Bates in my way home.--"You are a humourist. Nothing can be more simple. And Jane will have such another. Every thing as natural and simple as possible. I will manage such matters myself. It is my party. We are to walk about your gardens. But consider--you need not be afraid of delegating power to me." "I hope you will bring Elton. satisfied to have no one preferred to herself." interrupted Mrs." "Oh! now you are looking very sly. I am no young lady on her preferment. Married women. Weston. may be safely authorised. I suppose. and may say what you like." "Ah! you are an odd creature!" she cried. It is my party." said he: "but I will not trouble you to give any other invitations.--and till she is in being. and bring one of my little baskets hanging on my arm. I see Jane every day:--but as you like. I shall bring Jane with me-Jane and her aunt.

I am fully sensible of your attention to me in the whole of this scheme. As I tell Mr. You have hit upon the very thing to please me. I really must talk to him about purchasing a donkey. Indeed I do you justice. and he knew that to have any of them sitting down out of doors to eat would inevitably make him ill. between Donwell and Highbury. Woodhouse. and would spurn any body's assistance. E. to join the party. you know--in summer there is dust. You can borrow Mrs. you are a thorough humourist. The nature and the simplicity of gentlemen and ladies. Under that peculiar sort of dry. I would wish every thing to be as much to your taste as possible. be tempted away to his misery. I know you have the warmest heart. I think is best observed by meals within doors. Miss Bates." "Well--as you please.. When you are tired of eating strawberries in the garden. under the specious pretence of a morning drive. believe me. In a country life I conceive it to be a sort of necessary. Hodges. and me--and my caro sposo walking by. however. Mr. it is not possible for her to be always shut up at home." "I will answer for it. as well as Emma. The thing would be for us all to come on donkeys. and now it is perfectly dry." "Well--but if any difficulties should arise. only don't have a great set out. ." Mr. Cole's. He wished to persuade Mr. for. my housekeeper is extremely clever. Donwell Lane is never dusty. can I or my housekeeper be of any use to you with our opinion?-Pray be sincere.-Yes. Jane. with their servants and furniture."Not quite. let a woman have ever so many resources." "You will not find either. Knightley. or to inspect anything--" "I have not the least wish for it. by the bye. And. my good friend. Knightley." "I wish we had a donkey. If you wish me to talk to Mrs. and in winter there is dirt. there shall be cold meat in the house. I thank you. and an hour or two spent at Donwell. that mine thinks herself full as clever. blunt manner. if you prefer it. Knightley had another reason for avoiding a table in the shade. My idea of the simple and the natural will be to have the table spread in the dining-room. Come on a donkey." "That I am sure you would. Woodhouse must not.--and very long walks.

Elton.--Emma and Harriet professed very high expectations of pleasure from it. Weston. It was so long since Emma had been at the Abbey. He thought it very well done of Mr. remained. eager to refresh and correct her memory with more particular observation. could go very well. and Mr.He was invited on good faith. and Mrs. and Box Hill for the next. they were all taking the scheme as a particular compliment to themselves. and Harriet's going there some very fine morning. The invitation was everywhere so well received. his patient listener and sympathiser. unasked. like Mrs. and sit all the time with him.--He was not fond of dining out. In the meanwhile the lame horse recovered so fast. No lurking horrors were to upbraid him for his easy credulity." Mr. "Some very fine morning. at almost Midsummer. and any other of his neighbours. Under a bright mid-day sun. Knightley was fortunate in every body's most ready concurrence. Weston. and not to heat themselves. He did consent. and Mr. and Harriet.--He could not see any objection at all to his. and in one of the most comfortable rooms in the Abbey. . that it seemed as if.-Mrs. if possible. that as soon as she was satisfied of her father's comfort. He had not been at Donwell for two years. more exact understanding of a house and grounds which must ever be so interesting to her and all her family. with one window down. Knightley was then obliged to say that he should be glad to see him. he. a proof of approbation and gratitude which could have been dispensed with.-Mr. and should be very happy to meet Mr. Knightley to invite them-very kind and sensible--much cleverer than dining out. while the dear girls walked about the gardens. and advise every body to come and sit down. and spare no arguments to induce him to come. He should like to see the old house again exceedingly. especially prepared for him by a fire all the morning. and look around her. and Emma's. and Emma. Weston. he was happily placed. in the middle of the day. Weston engaged to lose no time in writing. quite at his ease. and at last Donwell was settled for one day. promised to get Frank over to join them. Elton. that the party to Box Hill was again under happy consideration.--the weather appearing exactly right. to partake of this al-fresco party. she was glad to leave him. He did not suppose they could be damp now. ready to talk with pleasure of what had been achieved. when all the others were invited or persuaded out. who seemed to have walked there on purpose to be tired. Woodhouse was safely conveyed in his carriage. Mr. and he could sit still with Mrs.

becoming. She had given them neither men. Elton . with many comfortable. These were pleasant feelings. that could raise a blush. nor names. was very ready to lead the way in gathering. excepting Frank Churchill. and Mrs.--It was just what it ought to be. was in question. in all her apparatus of happiness. and now Emma was obliged to overhear what Mrs.-A situation. could now be thought or spoken of.--Delightful to gather for one's self--the only way of really enjoying them. and totally unlike it. of which the Abbey. was the conversation--interrupted only once by Mrs. had scarcely a sight--and its abundance of timber in rows and avenues. her large bonnet and her basket. its suitable. in her solicitude after her son-in-law. and she walked about and indulged them till it was necessary to do as the others did. which neither fashion nor extravagance had rooted up. characteristic situation. Elton and Jane Fairfax were talking of. nor places. Mrs. as the residence of a family of such true gentility." Such. to inquire if he were come--and she was a little uneasy. untainted in blood and understanding. and collect round the strawberry-beds. and it looked what it was--and Emma felt an increasing respect for it. but Isabella had connected herself unexceptionably.--Morning decidedly the best time--never tired-every sort good--hautboy infinitely superior--no comparison-the others hardly eatable--hautboys very scarce--Chili preferred-white wood finest flavour of all--price of strawberries in London-abundance about Bristol--Maple Grove--cultivation--beds when to be renewed--gardeners thinking exactly different--no general rule-gardeners never to be put out of their way--delicious fruit-only too rich to be eaten much of--inferior to cherries-currants more refreshing--only objection to gathering strawberries the stooping--glaring sun--tired to death--could bear it no longer-must go and sit in the shade. with all the old neglect of prospect. accepting. for half an hour. rambling and irregular. and only strawberries. Elton.--The whole party were assembled. a most desirable situation. as she viewed the respectable size and style of the building.--These the finest beds and finest sorts.--"The best fruit in England-every body's favourite--always wholesome.She felt all the honest pride and complacency which her alliance with the present and future proprietor could fairly warrant. who was expected every moment from Richmond. or talking--strawberries.-She had some fears of his horse. who came out. Seats tolerably in the shade were found. low and sheltered-its ample gardens stretching down to meadows washed by a stream.--Some faults of temper John Knightley had. covering a good deal of ground.--The house was larger than Hartfield. Weston. and one or two handsome rooms.

repeating the same motives which she had been heard to urge before. a lady known at Maple Grove. lines. without being oppressive. and at half a mile distant was a bank of considerable abruptness and grandeur. Delightful. Disputable. nothing but a view at the end over a low stone wall with high pillars. first circles. and was in raptures. English culture. and after walking some time over the gardens in a scattered. but she was glad to see it. with meadows in front. spheres. rose the Abbey Mill Farm. to give the appearance of an approach to the house. she did speak pointedly--and at last. which stretching beyond the garden at an equal distance from the river. proposed a removal. though Miss Fairfax continued to assure her that she would not at present engage in any thing. In this walk Emma and Mr. seen under a sun bright. however. at nearly the foot of which the Abbey stood. Elton insisted on being authorised to write an acquiescence by the morrow's post.--The considerable slope. well clothed with wood. which seemed intended. all was warmth. every thing--and Mrs. favourably placed and sheltered.--There had been a time when he would have scorned . it was not with Mrs. English comfort.had received notice of it that morning. and triumph--and she positively refused to take her friend's negative. ranks. but in felicity and splendour it fell short only of them: it was with a cousin of Mrs. Suckling. and towards this view she immediately perceived Mr. Knightley shew them the gardens-all the gardens?--She wished to see the whole extent. Elton was wild to have the offer closed with immediately.-and at the bottom of this bank. Mr. scarcely any three together. gradually acquired a steeper form beyond its grounds. charming. superior. Weston found all the others assembled. Bragge. English verdure. was astonishing to Emma. which never had been there. and the view which closed it extremely pretty."--The pertinacity of her friend seemed more than she could bear.-"Should not they walk? Would not Mr. and the river making a close and handsome curve around it. an acquaintance of Mrs. Suckling. seemed the finish of the pleasure grounds. quietly leading the way. in their erection. Bragge. as might be the taste of such a termination.-It led to nothing. they insensibly followed one another to the delicious shade of a broad short avenue of limes. It was a sweet view--sweet to the eye and the mind. Knightley and Harriet distinct from the rest. it was in itself a charming walk.--On her side. It was not with Mrs.-Still Mrs. with a decision of action unusual to her. Knightley and Harriet!--It was an odd tete-a-tete. energy.--She did look vexed.--How Jane could bear it at all. It was hot. dispersed way.

or. Weston was at last persuaded to believe. There had been a time also when Emma would have been sorry to see Harriet in a spot so favourable for the Abbey Mill Farm. have the pleasure of being hot. stirred no more.--She joined them at the wall.her as a companion. and turned from her with little ceremony. Knightley had done all in his power for Mr. was liable to such sudden variation as might disappoint her nephew in the most reasonable dependence--and Mrs. and betrayed no emotion. they must all go in and eat."--Mrs. which was to be begun cutting on the morrow.--Mr. He had expressed himself as to coming. and still Frank Churchill did not come. and Emma found it the pleasantest part of the day.-Emma looked at Harriet while the point was under consideration. its rich pastures. Woodhouse. The next remove was to the house. perhaps get as far as the clover. I have a right to talk on such subjects. and the party were to go out once more to see what had not yet been seen. without being suspected of introducing Robert Martin. however. and looked in vain. but now she feared it not.--Robert Martin had probably ceased to think of Harriet. at any rate. orchard in blossom. where no damps from the river were imagined even by him. Mr. who had already taken his little round in the highest part of the gardens. and every other family collection within his cabinets. and found them more engaged in talking than in looking around. with more than common certainty."--She did not suspect him. Now they seemed in pleasant conversation. that Mrs.--They took a few turns together along the walk. He was giving Harriet information as to modes of agriculture. etc. corals. Weston looked. spreading flocks.--The shade was most refreshing. and light column of smoke ascending. and his daughter resolved to remain with him. shells. drawers of medals. "These are my own concerns. that he had not a doubt of getting over to them. she behaved very well. or to say. His father would not own himself uneasy. and Emma received a smile which seemed to say. Weston might be persuaded away by her husband to the exercise and variety which her spirits seemed to need. that it must be by some attack of Mrs. It might be safely viewed with all its appendages of prosperity and beauty. and laughed at her fears. Books of engravings. "His aunt was so much better. the old Abbey fish-ponds. . and growing cool again.-and they were all seated and busy. It was too old a story. cameos. Churchill's state. as many were ready to remind her. Mrs. Churchill that he was prevented coming. but she could not be cured of wishing that he would part with his black mare. Woodhouse's entertainment. The cold repast was over.

--I would rather walk.--My aunt is not aware how late it is. thank you--but on no account. "when I am missed. and some to the lime walk. nor how long we have been absent--but I am sure we shall be wanted. to while away the morning.--but you are not going to walk to Highbury alone?" "Yes--what should hurt me?--I walk fast. for he was slow. I must order the carriage. It can be round in five minutes. and with a look of escape.--I have said nothing about it to any body.--Miss Woodhouse. will you have the goodness to say that I am gone?" "Certainly. constant. indeed it is.-And for me to be afraid of walking alone!--I. Weston had been shewing them all to him. and the kindness had perfectly answered. coming quickly in from the garden. Till they all come in I shall not be missed.-Little expecting to meet Miss Woodhouse so soon. Some are gone to the ponds. than in a total want of taste for what he saw. Mr. and methodical.--Before this second looking over was begun. to be walking quite alone. and I am determined to go directly. will be to let me have my own way. and Emma very feelingly replied. Let my father's servant go with you." said she. there was a start at first. are exhausted.--You are fatigued already. Emma walked into the hall for the sake of a few moments' free observation of the entrance and ground-plot of the house--and was hardly there.--fortunate in having no other resemblance to a child. Mrs.had been prepared for his old friend. but it is not the sort of fatigue--quick walking will refresh me. The greatest kindness you can shew me. The heat even would be danger. when Jane Fairfax appeared. "That can be no reason for your being exposed to danger now."--she answered--"I am fatigued. "Will you be so kind. however. and when they do. I shall be at home in twenty minutes." "I am. but Miss Woodhouse was the very person she was in quest of.--Let me order the carriage. and now he would shew them all to Emma. I confess." "But it is too far. It would only be giving trouble and distress. as to say that I am gone home?--I am going this moment." "Thank you. we all know at times what it is to be wearied in spirits." . and only say that I am gone when it is necessary. if you wish it. Woodhouse had been exceedingly well amused. Mine. who may so soon have to guard others!" She spoke with great agitation.

"Such a home. etc. he believed he should not have come at all. The black mare was blameless. promoted her quitting the house immediately. she recommended his taking some refreshment. Such might be his constitution. Churchill as the cause." Jane had not been gone a quarter of an hour.Emma had not another word to oppose. if you sit still. and they had only accomplished some views of St. and as she knew that eating and drinking were often the cure of such incidental complaints. I met one as I came--Madness in such weather!--absolute madness!" Emma listened. and looked. and how late. . the whole party breaking up.. he would find abundance of every thing in the dining-room--and she humanely pointed out the door. "You will soon be cooler." said Emma. at the greatest possible distance from the slight remains of Mr. Weston would be at ease. as she turned back into the hall again.--and had he known how hot a ride he should have. Emma had not been thinking of him. which had lasted some hours--and he had quite given up every thought of coming. he had never suffered any thing like it--almost wished he had staid at home--nothing killed him like heat--he could bear any degree of cold. with all his hurry. a nervous seizure. Some people were always cross when they were hot. and entering into her feelings. She saw it all. Venice. Her parting look was grateful--and her parting words. they were right who had named Mrs. "As soon as I am cooler I shall go back again. Mark's Place. looking very deplorable. Woodhouse's fire. and to describe somewhat of the continual endurance to be practised by her. indeed! such an aunt!" said Emma. and soon perceived that Frank Churchill's state might be best defined by the expressive phrase of being out of humour. "Oh! Miss Woodhouse. the comfort of being sometimes alone!"--seemed to burst from an overcharged heart. but heat was intolerable--and he sat down. and watched her safely off with the zeal of a friend. he must be. Mrs. And the more sensibility you betray of their just horrors. even towards some of those who loved her best. the more I shall like you. He had been detained by a temporary increase of illness in her. till very late. when Frank Churchill entered the room. "I do pity you. she had forgotten to think of him--but she was very glad to see him. The heat was excessive. I could very ill be spared--but such a point had been made of my coming! You will all be going soon I suppose.

You will never go to Swisserland. You will have my sketches. I do not consider myself at all a fortunate person. I shall do something to expose myself." In two minutes. I have more than half an expectation of our all going abroad. to look at--or my tour to read--or my poem. I should not like a man who is so soon discomposed by a hot morning. however." said he. that he should be so late. Cannot you invent a few hardships for yourself. this morning." ." "That may be--but not by sketches in Swisserland. Emma returned all her attention to her father. A warm climate may be prescribed for her. if I could. he relented in his own favour. I feel a strong persuasion. "I shall never be easy till I have seen some of these places." "They may be induced to go too. another draught of Madeira and water. as when you first came. and came back all the better--grown quite cool--and. Your uncle and aunt will never allow you to leave England. Go and eat and drink a little more. They were looking over views in Swisserland. and." "You are sick of prosperity and indulgence." "You are not quite so miserable. walked off. I am tired of doing nothing. He was not in his best spirits. I am serious. it would only make him hotter. and you will do very well. He was not hungry. like himself--able to draw a chair close to them. I do not look upon myself as either prosperous or indulged. I assure you I have. and muttering something about spruce-beer. I want a change."No--he should not eat. whatever your penetrating eyes may fancy--I am sick of England-and would leave it to-morrow. that I shall soon be abroad. Another slice of cold meat. "As soon as my aunt gets well. I ought to travel. made himself talk nonsense very agreeably." He was gone long enough to have had a very comfortable meal. Harriet's sweet easy temper will not mind it. I am thwarted in every thing material. and be contented to stay?" "I sick of prosperity and indulgence! You are quite mistaken. I shall go abroad. and regret. saying in secret-"I am glad I have done being in love with him. take an interest in their employment. but seemed trying to improve them. in a reasonable way. Miss Woodhouse. with good manners. some time or other. will make you nearly on a par with the rest of us. at last. though.

that his last words to Emma were." The rest of the party were now returning. Seven miles were travelled in expectation of enjoyment. a want of spirits. were in favour of a pleasant party. and with a short final arrangement for the next day's scheme. with the Eltons. Chuse your own degree of crossness. I shall be crosser still. Mrs. officiating safely between Hartfield and the Vicarage." "Then pray stay at Richmond. Volume Three Chapter Seven They had a very fine day for Box Hill. There was a languor." "But you may come again in the cool of to-morrow morning. and every body had a burst of admiration on first arriving. and nothing less than a summons from Richmond was to take him back before the following evening." "But if I do. Nothing was wanting but to be happy when they got there. Weston remained with Mr. "Well. others took it very composedly. That it was time for every body to go. concluded the subject. I shall be cross. If I come. I will.--if you wish me to stay and join the party. Mr. Emma and Harriet went together." She smiled her acceptance. You are my best cure. Woodhouse. the gentlemen on horseback. and all the other outward circumstances of arrangement. but it will be something for a young man so much in want of a change. You will stay. I shall press you no more." "We are going to Box Hill to-morrow. a want of union. Frank Churchill's little inclination to exclude himself increased so much. but in the general amount of the day there was deficiency. but there was a very general distress and disturbance on Miss Fairfax's disappearance being explained. they parted. I can never bear to think of you all there without me. With some there was great joy at the sight of Frank Churchill." "These are difficulties which you must settle for yourself." "No--It will not be worth while. and go with us?" "No. and every body was in good time. I shall go home in the cool of the evening. accommodation. and punctuality. and all were soon collected."No--I shall not stir. I shall sit by you. . It is not Swisserland. Miss Bates and her niece.--you will join us. certainly not. Weston directed the whole.

She still intended him for her friend. They separated too much into parties. and thought them all." They were laying themselves open to that very phrase--and to having it sent off in a letter to Maple Grove by one lady.which could not be got over. too strong for any fine prospects. Every distinguishing attention that could be paid. and gave him all the friendly encouragement. they were not winning back her heart. She had never seen Frank Churchill so silent and stupid. making her his first object. was paid to her. At first it was downright dulness to Emma. You begged hard to be commanded to come. between the other parties. to Ireland by another. extremely judicious. "Mr. While he was so dull. "How much I am obliged to you. and be agreeable in her eyes. for Frank Churchill grew talkative and gay. seemed all that he cared for--and Emma. "for telling me to come to-day!-If it had not been for you. glad to be enlivened. there seemed a principle of separation. or any cold collation. The Eltons walked together. though in the judgment of most people looking on it must have had such an appearance as no English word but flirtation could very well describe. it was no wonder that Harriet should be dull likewise. but it never materially varied. Mr. Weston tried. I had quite determined to go away again. and Emma and Harriet belonged to Frank Churchill. except that you were too late for the best strawberries. not sorry to be flattered. Mr. Elton. He said nothing worth hearing-looked without seeing--admired without intelligence--listened without knowing what she said. or playfulness. and I do not know what about. and though she liked him for his attentions. To amuse her. shewed no unwillingness to mix. indeed. admiration. to make them harmonise better. Weston. but during the two whole hours that were spent on the hill. was gay and easy too. Frank Churchill and Miss Woodhouse flirted together excessively. I was a kinder friend than you deserved." "Yes. in her own estimation. it was rather because she felt less happy than she had expected. and they were both insufferable. in vain. but which now. But you were humble. and Mrs. the admission to be gallant. Not that Emma was gay and thoughtless from any real felicity. which she had ever given in the first and most animating period of their acquaintance. you were very cross. It seemed at first an accidental division. or any cheerful Mr. to her taste a great deal better. to remove. I should certainly have lost all the happiness of this party. When they all sat down it was better. meant nothing. She laughed because she was disappointed." said he. and be as agreeable as they could." . Knightley took charge of Miss Bates and Jane. whether in friendship. And Mr.

You order me." "Dating from three o'clock yesterday. Elton swelled at the idea of Miss Woodhouse's presiding. You had. I can have no self-command without a motive." "It is hotter to-day. I am perfectly comfortable to-day. or you would not have been so much out of humour before. I thought I had seen you first in February. My perpetual influence could not begin earlier. whether you speak or not. They shall talk. Ladies and gentlemen. "Is Miss Woodhouse sure that she would like to hear what we are all thinking of?" . The heat overcame me." "It comes to the same thing. But (lowering her voice)-nobody speaks except ourselves." "You are comfortable because you are under command. Let my accents swell to Mickleham on one side. Mrs. Knightley's answer was the most distinct." "Three o'clock yesterday! That is your date." replied he. Miss Bates said a great deal. broken bounds yesterday. but to-day you are got back again--and as I cannot be always with you. presides) to say. I saw you first in February. it is best to believe your temper under your own command rather than mine. Let every body on the Hill hear me if they can. and it is rather too much to be talking nonsense for the entertainment of seven silent people. that she desires to know what you are all thinking of?" Some laughed."Don't say I was cross. I am ordered by Miss Woodhouse (who." "Your gallantry is really unanswerable. and run away from your own management. "I saw you first in February." "Perhaps I intended you to say so. wherever she is. and answered good-humouredly. And you can be always with me. What shall we do to rouse them? Any nonsense will serve. Mr. and Dorking on the other." "Not to my feelings. but I meant self-command." "Your command?--Yes." "I say nothing of which I am ashamed. You are always with me." And then whispering-"Our companions are excessively stupid. with lively impudence. somehow or other. I was fatigued.

" cried Mrs. Better pass it off as a joke. `Three things very dull indeed. as the Chaperon of the party-I never was in any circle--exploring parties--young ladies--married women--" Her mutterings were chiefly to her husband. "then I need not be uneasy." whispered Frank to Emma. I shall be sure to say three dull things as soon as ever I open my mouth. Pardon me--but you will be limited as to number--only three at once. Weston and Harriet. "they are most of them affronted. Though. perhaps." "It is a sort of thing.) and she only demands from each of you either one thing very clever."Oh! no. in reply. though a slight blush shewed that it could pain her. (glancing at Mr. and he murmured. be it prose or verse. no"--cried Emma. indeed--quite unheard of-but some ladies say any thing. besides myself. Exactly so. am very entertaining already. Ladies and gentlemen--I am ordered by Miss Woodhouse to say. laughing as carelessly as she could-"Upon no account in the world. It is the very last thing I would stand the brunt of just now. but. "which I should not have thought myself privileged to inquire into. it could not anger. Here are seven of you. she is pleased to say. Let me hear any thing rather than what you are all thinking of. deceived by the mock ceremony of her manner. and only requires something very entertaining from each of you. "Very true. "Ah! ma'am. that she waives her right of knowing exactly what you may all be thinking of. original or repeated--or two things moderately clever-or three things very dull indeed." "Oh! very well. perhaps." "It will not do." Miss Bates. in a general way.' That will just do for me. I will not say quite all. did not immediately catch her meaning. and she engages to laugh heartily at them all.) whose thoughts I might not be afraid of knowing. but there may be a difficulty. you know. my love. . shan't I? (looking round with the most good-humoured dependence on every body's assent)--Do not you all think I shall?" Emma could not resist. Elton emphatically." exclaimed Miss Bates. Every body knows what is due to you. There are one or two. I will attack them with more address. (who. very true. when it burst on her.

that express perfection?" "What two letters!--express perfection! I am sure I do not know. very low.--What two letters of the alphabet are there.--I will tell you. I see what she means. (to Emma)." "I like your plan."Ah!--well--to be sure. but Emma found a great deal to laugh at and enjoy in it--and so did Frank and Harriet." said Mr. but here it is. I have a great deal of vivacity in my own way. I am certain. I must make myself very disagreeable. Mr." "Oh! for myself. or she would not have said such a thing to an old friend. It might be a very indifferent piece of wit. Knightley." "Ah! you will never guess. I will do my best. but I really must be allowed to judge when to speak and when to hold my tongue." cried Mr. I do not pretend to be a wit." "I doubt its being very clever myself. Elton. when one is exploring about the country in summer. no. and Mr. agreed. Perfection should not have come quite so soon. I am making a conundrum. if you please. some looked very stupid about it. . Knightley gravely said. pray let me hear it. will never guess. but quite out of place. Weston's shall clear him and his next neighbour. "it will not reckon low.--"but we shall be indulgent--especially to any one who leads the way. and A. when one is sitting round the fire." answered his son.--M. Yes. in my opinion. I am afraid. which I was not at all pleased with. Miss Woodhouse must excuse me. I knew who it came from." said Emma. "It is too much a matter of fact. I am not one of those who have witty things at every body's service. An abominable puppy!-You know who I mean (nodding to her husband). (turning to Mr.) and I will try to hold my tongue. Come. Pass us. "I really cannot attempt--I am not at all fond of the sort of thing." "No. Weston. "Agreed. but he must have knocked up every body else. sir. I had an acrostic once sent to me upon my own name." said Mrs. How will a conundrum reckon?" "Low. "This explains the sort of clever thing that is wanted. Churchill. Weston. Weston has done very well for himself. I protest I must be excused. A conundrum of Mr. sir.--Em-ma. and Mr.--Do you understand?" Understanding and gratification came together.--It did not seem to touch the rest of the party equally. These kind of things are very well at Christmas. You.

"Such things do occur. with a sort of sneering consciousness. I hope some body will chuse my wife for me. who had seldom spoken before. Knightley. take my other arm. I think. "Happy couple!" said Frank Churchill." added her husband. and soon afterwards said. and rued it all the rest of his life!" Miss Fairfax. Short of that. A hasty and imprudent attachment may arise-but there is generally time to recover from it afterwards." He made no answer. I cannot imagine them to be very frequent. (whose happiness must be always at the mercy of chance.) who will suffer an unfortunate acquaintance to be an inconvenience." said he. I would be understood to mean. "Well. just as they always are. among their own set. Augusta?" "With all my heart. as soon as they were out of hearing:--"How well they suit one another!--Very lucky--marrying as they did. undoubtedly. it is all guess and luck-and will generally be ill-luck. I am really tired of exploring so long on one spot.Pass Mr. gravely. "I have nothing to say that can entertain Miss Woodhouse. Jane. there can be no knowledge. a few weeks in Bath! Peculiarly lucky!-for as to any real knowledge of a person's disposition that Bath. however. I have so little confidence in my own judgment. Frank Churchill turned towards her to listen. that it can be only weak. irresolute characters. Shall we walk. E. She recovered her voice. yes. Come."--She was stopped by a cough. except among her own confederates. and bowed in submission. an oppression for ever. or any other young lady. upon an acquaintance formed only in a public place!--They only knew each other." Jane declined it. that whenever I marry. pray pass me. "I was only going to observe. "Yes. in a lively tone. that though such unfortunate circumstances do sometimes occur both to men and women. and the husband and wife walked off. How many a man has committed himself on a short acquaintance. and myself.. that you can form any just judgment. Jane. "You were speaking. Will you? . spoke now. It is only by seeing women in their own homes. We have nothing clever to say-not one of us. or any public place. merely looked. An old married man-quite good for nothing. can give--it is all nothing.

Elton?" "If you please. ma'am. and quite unattended to. There she is--no. that's somebody else.(turning to Emma. He looked around. It was a commission to touch every favourite feeling. and even the bustle of collecting and preparing to depart. I was ready to have gone with her. two years more might make her all that he wished. you know. and wished herself rather walking quietly about with any of the others. only remained. and Harriet. as if to see that no one were near. and the young man's spirits now rose to a pitch almost unpleasant. my dear.-Well. composed of so many ill-assorted people. "shall we join Mrs. Such another scheme. Remember." "By all means." "She must be very lively. "Now. Knightley by her side." "And make her like myself. You provide for the family. if you can. she found Mr. educate her. Weston. his son. and have hazle eyes. were gladly endured. (with a smile at his father). but this will do just as well. Even Emma grew tired at last of flattery and merriment. Elton to have her carriage first. I shall go abroad for a couple of years--and when I return. While waiting for the carriage. in tranquil observation of the beautiful views beneath her. I am quite ready. We shall soon overtake her. in the prospect of the quiet drive home which was to close the very questionable enjoyments of this day of pleasure. . followed in half a minute by Mr." said Jane to her aunt. Would not Harriet be the very creature described? Hazle eyes excepted. I undertake the commission. who could say? Referring the education to her seemed to imply it. The appearance of the servants looking out for them to give notice of the carriages was a joyful sight. Emma. You shall have a charming wife. Adopt her. and then said." "Very well. I declare--" They walked off. or sitting almost alone. I shall come to you for my wife. Find some body for me. He might even have Harriet in his thoughts at the moment. Knightley. I am in no hurry.) Will you chuse a wife for me?--I am sure I should like any body fixed on by you. I care for nothing else. she hoped never to be betrayed into again. Mr. not at all like her. and the solicitude of Mrs." Emma was in no danger of forgetting. That's one of the ladies in the Irish car party. With all my heart.

"I know there is not a better creature in the world: but you must allow. "I acknowledge. I cannot see you acting wrong." said he. it was ready." "I assure you she did. to have you now. but I must still use it. "Nay. blushed. How could you be so unfeeling to Miss Bates? How could you be so insolent in your wit to a woman of her character. I would not quarrel with you for any liberties of manner. when her society must be so irksome. She felt your full meaning. I dare say she did not understand me. and trusting that you will some time or other do me greater justice than you can do now. they were advancing towards the carriage. she has sunk from the comforts she was born to. as she was for ever receiving from yourself and your father. age. It was badly done. how could I help saying what I did?--Nobody could have helped it. Emma--and it is very far from pleasant to me. and the pride of the moment. was sorry. satisfied with proving myself your friend by very faithful counsel. if she live to old age. but I must."Emma. I had not thought it possible. laugh at her. and. I would leave every harmless absurdity to take its chance. She is poor. Emma. I could allow much for the occasional prevalence of the ridiculous over the good. He had misinterpreted the feelings which had kept her face averted. must probably sink more. were she prosperous.--This is not pleasant to you. and." While they talked. humble her--and before her niece. whom she had seen grow up from a period when her notice was an honour. whom she had known from an infant. in thoughtless spirits. Were she a woman of fortune." "They are blended. I must once more speak to you as I have been used to do: a privilege rather endured than allowed. but tried to laugh it off.) would be entirely guided by your treatment of her. indeed! You. that what is good and what is ridiculous are most unfortunately blended in her. It was not so very bad. in being able to pay her such attentions. I wish you could have heard her honouring your forbearance. She has talked of it since. . consider how far this is from being the case. Her situation should secure your compassion. I will.--I will tell you truths while I can. many of whom (certainly some. without a remonstrance. he had handed her in." "Oh!" cried Emma. perhaps. too--and before others. I wish you could have heard how she talked of it-with what candour and generosity. and." Emma recollected. Were she your equal in situation-but. and situation?-Emma. before she could speak again.

she could not tell. of concurrence. She felt it at her heart. and more to be abhorred in recollection. making no acknowledgment. She hoped no one could have said to her. be open to any severe reproach. They were combined only of anger against herself. she seemed but to feel it more. might be looking back on it with pleasure. but it was just too late. As she reflected more. indeed. and very willing to be silent. mortified. remiss. There. and. and feeling that. parting in apparent sullenness. A whole evening of back-gammon with her father. They. lay real pleasure. than any she had ever passed. for there she was giving up the sweetest hours of the twenty-four to his comfort. and their different ways." Miss Bates should never again--no. mortification. As a daughter. in future. on entering the carriage. unmerited as might be the degree of his fond affection and confiding esteem. She had not been able to speak. The truth of this representation there was no denying. ungracious.and her tongue motionless. She continued to look back. She had been often remiss. she could not. of common kindness! Time did not compose her. never! If attention. scornful. was felicity to it. and deep concern. she looked out with voice and hand eager to shew a difference. more totally bare of rational satisfaction at the time. and soon. perhaps. she might hope to be forgiven. extraordinary as they were. but in her view it was a morning more completely misspent. How could she have been so brutal. and Emma felt the tears running down her cheeks almost all the way home. with what appeared unusual speed. they were half way down the hill. But it should be so no more. so cruel to Miss Bates! How could she have exposed herself to such ill opinion in any one she valued! And how suffer him to leave her without saying one word of gratitude. Happily it was not necessary to speak. and every thing left far behind. more in thought than fact. She was vexed beyond what could have been expressed--almost beyond what she could conceal. . in their different homes. but in vain. at any circumstance in her life. who seemed not in spirits herself. she hoped she was not without a heart. "How could you be so unfeeling to your father?-I must. He had turned away. in her general conduct. could do away the past. sunk back for a moment overcome--then reproaching herself for having taken no leave. Volume Three Chapter Eight The wretchedness of a scheme to Box Hill was in Emma's thoughts all the evening. Never had she felt so agitated. fagged. She was most forcibly struck. I will tell you truths while I can. and the horses were in motion. without being at any trouble to check them. her conscience told her so. grieved. There was only Harriet. How it might be considered by the rest of the party. She never had been so depressed.

but she saw him not. they tell me she is well. a good deal of moving and talking. and I am sure you are ill enough. There was a bustle on her approach. This does not seem much like joy. hoped she would be pleased to wait a moment. she would call upon her the very next morning. equal. that she might see Mr. might lead the way to a return of old feelings." Poor old Mrs. and then ushered her in too soon. Jane she had a distinct glimpse of. and went early. how kind you are!--I suppose you have heard-and are come to give us joy. she thought. I hope you find a chair. looking extremely ill. nor ever before entered the passage. ma'am? Do you sit where you like? I am sure she will be here presently. before the door had shut them out. except in subsequent ridicule. she heard Miss Bates saying. It was not unlikely. indeed." Emma seriously hoped she would. so justly and truly hers. She heard Miss Bates's voice. Miss Woodhouse. "I am afraid Jane is not very well. She was just as determined when the morrow came. I dare say my daughter will be here presently. "but I do not know. in me--(twinkling away a tear or two)--but it will be . that nothing might prevent her. on her side. The touch seemed immediate. "Well. The aunt and niece seemed both escaping into the adjoining room. something was to be done in a hurry. kindly intercourse. or. Knightley in her way. and.In the warmth of true contrition. or of deriving it. Bates. She had a moment's fear of Miss Bates keeping away from her. "Ah! Miss Woodhouse. I shall say you are laid down upon the bed. he might come in while she were paying her visit." said she. "The ladies were all at home. and it should be the beginning. Her eyes were towards Donwell as she walked. civil and humble as usual. She would not be ashamed of the appearance of the penitence. nor walked up the stairs. of a regular. she hoped. perhaps. She had no objection. But Miss Bates soon came--"Very happy and obliged"--but Emma's conscience told her that there was not the same cheerful volubility as before--less ease of look and manner. I wish Hetty had not gone. A very friendly inquiry after Miss Fairfax. looked as if she did not quite understand what was going on. my dear. the maid looked frightened and awkward. but in conferring obligation. I am very little able--Have you a chair. with any wish of giving pleasure." She had never rejoiced at the sound before.

to be written to Colonel Campbell. and left her nothing but pity. nobody would think how delighted and happy she is to have secured such a situation. To look at her. you know. She is as low as possible.' `Well. one cannot wonder. `you will blind yourself'-for tears were in her eyes perpetually. She spoke as she felt. She had understood it was to be delayed till Colonel Campbell's return. I suppose.' said I. It is a great change. and that was what made us keep you waiting--and extremely sorry and ashamed we were.' said she. we did not know any body was coming. `you must. when she might not bear to see herself. `My dear.' said I. `it must be borne some time or other. you know one cannot feel any blessing quite as it may deserve. and Mrs. Dixon. You were kept waiting at the door--I was quite ashamed-but somehow there was a little bustle--for it so happened that we had not heard the knock. after having had her so long. writing all the morning:-such long letters. and I will say you are laid down upon the bed. and till you were on the stairs. and it may as well be now.' said I. she is walking about the room. and this picture of her present sufferings acted as a cure of every former ungenerous suspicion.very trying for us to part with her. poor dear soul! if you were to see what a headache she has." . But. `My dear.' But then Patty came in. One cannot wonder. When one is in great pain. `If you must go.' said she. Nobody else would come so early. she is not. Cole or any other steady friend. my dear. `depend upon it. `Oh!' said I. Miss Woodhouse. Miss Woodhouse. obliged her to admit that Jane might very naturally resolve on seeing Mrs. `It is only Mrs. with earnest regret and solicitude--sincerely wishing that the circumstances which she collected from Miss Bates to be now actually determined on. for such surprising good fortune--(again dispersing her tears)--but. and said it was you. She will be extremely sorry to miss seeing you. `it is Miss Woodhouse: I am sure you will like to see her.'" Emma was most sincerely interested. as no young woman before ever met with on first going out--do not think us ungrateful. but your kindness will excuse her. Her heart had been long growing kinder towards Jane. "It must be a severe trial to them all. might be as much for Miss Fairfax's advantage and comfort as possible.' said I. and up she got. and would go away. now that she has written her letters. and she has a dreadful headache just now. `I shall say you are laid down upon the bed:' but. and the remembrance of the less just and less gentle sensations of the past. she says she shall soon be well. Cole.'-`I can see nobody. You will excuse her not coming to you--she is not able--she is gone into her own room-I want her to lie down upon the bed. however. and though she is amazingly fortunate--such a situation.

`You must all spend your evening with us. Mrs. She would not let Jane say. if we except. She would not take a denial." There was no bearing such an "always. and told her at once. that upon thinking over the advantages of Mrs. as Jane wished her. Smallridge--charming woman--most superior--to have the charge of her three little girls--delightful children. Knightley was there too. whose judgment never fails her. she would wait--and. Elton. perhaps.'" "Mr. while we were walking about with Mr. sure enough.' for when Jane first heard of it. and in the very same neighbourhood:--lives only four miles from Maple Grove." "Mrs. saw farther than I did. but Mrs. upon the hill. Impossible that any situation could be more replete with comfort. `No." and to break through her dreadful gratitude.' said she--`I positively must have you all come. yesterday evening it was all settled that Jane should go. I suppose. "But you are always kind. Elton over and over again--and I am sure I had no more idea that she would change her mind!--but that good Mrs. Smallridge's situation. Mrs. was he?" . Knightley."So very kind!" replied Miss Bates. true friend. has been the person to whom Miss Fairfax owes--" "Yes. Elton.) when Jane first heard of it. Bragge's. the very morning we were at Donwell. It was settled so. Smallridge is intimate with both. Jane will be only four miles from Maple Grove. and Mrs. Quite a surprize to me! I had not the least idea!--Jane took Mrs. Elton would have us come. exactly as you say. all of us. and nothing should induce her to enter into any engagement at present--and so she told Mrs. Elton. The most indefatigable. (it was the day before yesterday." "You spent the evening with Mrs. she was quite decided against accepting the offer. Emma made the direct inquiry of-"Where--may I ask?--is Miss Fairfax going?" "To a Mrs. but she positively declared she would not write any such denial yesterday. Elton?" "Yes. she had come to the resolution of accepting it. It is not every body that would have stood out in such a kind way as she did. and for the reasons you mention. our good Mrs. Elton aside. and refuse to take Jane's answer.--I did not know a word of it till it was all settled. she had made up her mind to close with nothing till Colonel Campbell's return. Suckling's own family.

Miss Woodhouse." . though you were not aware of it." "Thank you. "if other children are at all like what I remember to have been myself. Smallridge is in a great hurry. indeed. Jane will be treated with such regard and kindness!-It will be nothing but pleasure. you know. However. Even you. Come ma'am." "Whenever the time may come. and feel extremely obliged to the kind friends who included me in it.--And her salary!-I really cannot venture to name her salary to you. Except the Sucklings and Bragges.--but my mother. Knightley. Even pleasure. I suppose." "You are so noble in your ideas!" "And when is Miss Fairfax to leave you?" "Very soon."No. and Jane. there are not such elegant sweet children anywhere. and I. because Mrs. is fatiguing--and I cannot say that any of them seemed very much to have enjoyed it. Smallridge. I try to put it out of her thoughts. So then. I shall always think it a very pleasant party. in all Mrs." "Ah! madam. a most delightful woman!--A style of living almost equal to Maple Grove--and as to the children. indeed. and a very agreeable evening we had. very soon. Within a fortnight. dearly earned. used as you are to great sums. and say. though every body seemed rather fagged after the morning's party. I should think five times the amount of what I have ever yet heard named as a salary on such occasions. he declined it from the first. were all there. except the little Sucklings and little Bragges. had been making up her mind the whole day?" "I dare say she had. as to the character and manners of the family. Such kind friends." "Miss Fairfax. dear Miss Woodhouse. My poor mother does not know how to bear it. Miss Woodhouse. it must be unwelcome to her and all her friends--but I hope her engagement will have every alleviation that is possible--I mean. there is every thing in the world that can make her happy in it. do not let us think about it any more. Mrs. would hardly believe that so much could be given to a young person like Jane. one must always find agreeable. not Mr. so liberal and elegant. that's the worst of it. and though I thought he would come. he did not. Elton's acquaintance. Yes." cried Emma. Elton declared she would not let him off. a life of pleasure. Mrs. you know. there is not such another nursery establishment.

"Her friends must all be sorry to lose her; and will not Colonel and Mrs. Campbell be sorry to find that she has engaged herself before their return?" "Yes; Jane says she is sure they will; but yet, this is such a situation as she cannot feel herself justified in declining. I was so astonished when she first told me what she had been saying to Mrs. Elton, and when Mrs. Elton at the same moment came congratulating me upon it! It was before tea--stay--no, it could not be before tea, because we were just going to cards--and yet it was before tea, because I remember thinking--Oh! no, now I recollect, now I have it; something happened before tea, but not that. Mr. Elton was called out of the room before tea, old John Abdy's son wanted to speak with him. Poor old John, I have a great regard for him; he was clerk to my poor father twenty-seven years; and now, poor old man, he is bed-ridden, and very poorly with the rheumatic gout in his joints-I must go and see him to-day; and so will Jane, I am sure, if she gets out at all. And poor John's son came to talk to Mr. Elton about relief from the parish; he is very well to do himself, you know, being head man at the Crown, ostler, and every thing of that sort, but still he cannot keep his father without some help; and so, when Mr. Elton came back, he told us what John ostler had been telling him, and then it came out about the chaise having been sent to Randalls to take Mr. Frank Churchill to Richmond. That was what happened before tea. It was after tea that Jane spoke to Mrs. Elton." Miss Bates would hardly give Emma time to say how perfectly new this circumstance was to her; but as without supposing it possible that she could be ignorant of any of the particulars of Mr. Frank Churchill's going, she proceeded to give them all, it was of no consequence. What Mr. Elton had learned from the ostler on the subject, being the accumulation of the ostler's own knowledge, and the knowledge of the servants at Randalls, was, that a messenger had come over from Richmond soon after the return of the party from Box Hill-which messenger, however, had been no more than was expected; and that Mr. Churchill had sent his nephew a few lines, containing, upon the whole, a tolerable account of Mrs. Churchill, and only wishing him not to delay coming back beyond the next morning early; but that Mr. Frank Churchill having resolved to go home directly, without waiting at all, and his horse seeming to have got a cold, Tom had been sent off immediately for the Crown chaise, and the ostler had stood out and seen it pass by, the boy going a good pace, and driving very steady.

There was nothing in all this either to astonish or interest, and it caught Emma's attention only as it united with the subject which already engaged her mind. The contrast between Mrs. Churchill's importance in the world, and Jane Fairfax's, struck her; one was every thing, the other nothing--and she sat musing on the difference of woman's destiny, and quite unconscious on what her eyes were fixed, till roused by Miss Bates's saying, "Aye, I see what you are thinking of, the pianoforte. What is to become of that?--Very true. Poor dear Jane was talking of it just now.-`You must go,' said she. `You and I must part. You will have no business here.--Let it stay, however,' said she; `give it houseroom till Colonel Campbell comes back. I shall talk about it to him; he will settle for me; he will help me out of all my difficulties.'-And to this day, I do believe, she knows not whether it was his present or his daughter's." Now Emma was obliged to think of the pianoforte; and the remembrance of all her former fanciful and unfair conjectures was so little pleasing, that she soon allowed herself to believe her visit had been long enough; and, with a repetition of every thing that she could venture to say of the good wishes which she really felt, took leave.
Volume Three Chapter Nine

Emma's pensive meditations, as she walked home, were not interrupted; but on entering the parlour, she found those who must rouse her. Mr. Knightley and Harriet had arrived during her absence, and were sitting with her father.--Mr. Knightley immediately got up, and in a manner decidedly graver than usual, said, "I would not go away without seeing you, but I have no time to spare, and therefore must now be gone directly. I am going to London, to spend a few days with John and Isabella. Have you any thing to send or say, besides the `love,' which nobody carries?" "Nothing at all. But is not this a sudden scheme?" "Yes--rather--I have been thinking of it some little time." Emma was sure he had not forgiven her; he looked unlike himself. Time, however, she thought, would tell him that they ought to be friends again. While he stood, as if meaning to go, but not going-her father began his inquiries. "Well, my dear, and did you get there safely?--And how did you find my worthy old friend and her daughter?--I dare say they must

have been very much obliged to you for coming. Dear Emma has been to call on Mrs. and Miss Bates, Mr. Knightley, as I told you before. She is always so attentive to them!" Emma's colour was heightened by this unjust praise; and with a smile, and shake of the head, which spoke much, she looked at Mr. Knightley.-It seemed as if there were an instantaneous impression in her favour, as if his eyes received the truth from her's, and all that had passed of good in her feelings were at once caught and honoured.-He looked at her with a glow of regard. She was warmly gratified-and in another moment still more so, by a little movement of more than common friendliness on his part.--He took her hand;-whether she had not herself made the first motion, she could not say-she might, perhaps, have rather offered it--but he took her hand, pressed it, and certainly was on the point of carrying it to his lips-when, from some fancy or other, he suddenly let it go.--Why he should feel such a scruple, why he should change his mind when it was all but done, she could not perceive.--He would have judged better, she thought, if he had not stopped.--The intention, however, was indubitable; and whether it was that his manners had in general so little gallantry, or however else it happened, but she thought nothing became him more.-It was with him, of so simple, yet so dignified a nature.-She could not but recall the attempt with great satisfaction. It spoke such perfect amity.--He left them immediately afterwards-gone in a moment. He always moved with the alertness of a mind which could neither be undecided nor dilatory, but now he seemed more sudden than usual in his disappearance. Emma could not regret her having gone to Miss Bates, but she wished she had left her ten minutes earlier;--it would have been a great pleasure to talk over Jane Fairfax's situation with Mr. Knightley.-Neither would she regret that he should be going to Brunswick Square, for she knew how much his visit would be enjoyed--but it might have happened at a better time--and to have had longer notice of it, would have been pleasanter.--They parted thorough friends, however; she could not be deceived as to the meaning of his countenance, and his unfinished gallantry;--it was all done to assure her that she had fully recovered his good opinion.--He had been sitting with them half an hour, she found. It was a pity that she had not come back earlier! In the hope of diverting her father's thoughts from the disagreeableness of Mr. Knightley's going to London; and going so suddenly; and going on horseback, which she knew would be all very bad; Emma communicated her news of Jane Fairfax, and her dependence on the effect was justified; it supplied a very useful check,--

interested, without disturbing him. He had long made up his mind to Jane Fairfax's going out as governess, and could talk of it cheerfully, but Mr. Knightley's going to London had been an unexpected blow. "I am very glad, indeed, my dear, to hear she is to be so comfortably settled. Mrs. Elton is very good-natured and agreeable, and I dare say her acquaintance are just what they ought to be. I hope it is a dry situation, and that her health will be taken good care of. It ought to be a first object, as I am sure poor Miss Taylor's always was with me. You know, my dear, she is going to be to this new lady what Miss Taylor was to us. And I hope she will be better off in one respect, and not be induced to go away after it has been her home so long." The following day brought news from Richmond to throw every thing else into the background. An express arrived at Randalls to announce the death of Mrs. Churchill! Though her nephew had had no particular reason to hasten back on her account, she had not lived above six-and-thirty hours after his return. A sudden seizure of a different nature from any thing foreboded by her general state, had carried her off after a short struggle. The great Mrs. Churchill was no more. It was felt as such things must be felt. Every body had a degree of gravity and sorrow; tenderness towards the departed, solicitude for the surviving friends; and, in a reasonable time, curiosity to know where she would be buried. Goldsmith tells us, that when lovely woman stoops to folly, she has nothing to do but to die; and when she stoops to be disagreeable, it is equally to be recommended as a clearer of ill-fame. Mrs. Churchill, after being disliked at least twenty-five years, was now spoken of with compassionate allowances. In one point she was fully justified. She had never been admitted before to be seriously ill. The event acquitted her of all the fancifulness, and all the selfishness of imaginary complaints. "Poor Mrs. Churchill! no doubt she had been suffering a great deal: more than any body had ever supposed--and continual pain would try the temper. It was a sad event--a great shock--with all her faults, what would Mr. Churchill do without her? Mr. Churchill's loss would be dreadful indeed. Mr. Churchill would never get over it."-Even Mr. Weston shook his head, and looked solemn, and said, "Ah! poor woman, who would have thought it!" and resolved, that his mourning should be as handsome as possible; and his wife sat sighing and moralising over her broad hems with a commiseration and good sense, true and steady. How it would affect Frank was among the earliest

thoughts of both. It was also a very early speculation with Emma. The character of Mrs. Churchill, the grief of her husband--her mind glanced over them both with awe and compassion--and then rested with lightened feelings on how Frank might be affected by the event, how benefited, how freed. She saw in a moment all the possible good. Now, an attachment to Harriet Smith would have nothing to encounter. Mr. Churchill, independent of his wife, was feared by nobody; an easy, guidable man, to be persuaded into any thing by his nephew. All that remained to be wished was, that the nephew should form the attachment, as, with all her goodwill in the cause, Emma could feel no certainty of its being already formed. Harriet behaved extremely well on the occasion, with great self-command. What ever she might feel of brighter hope, she betrayed nothing. Emma was gratified, to observe such a proof in her of strengthened character, and refrained from any allusion that might endanger its maintenance. They spoke, therefore, of Mrs. Churchill's death with mutual forbearance. Short letters from Frank were received at Randalls, communicating all that was immediately important of their state and plans. Mr. Churchill was better than could be expected; and their first removal, on the departure of the funeral for Yorkshire, was to be to the house of a very old friend in Windsor, to whom Mr. Churchill had been promising a visit the last ten years. At present, there was nothing to be done for Harriet; good wishes for the future were all that could yet be possible on Emma's side. It was a more pressing concern to shew attention to Jane Fairfax, whose prospects were closing, while Harriet's opened, and whose engagements now allowed of no delay in any one at Highbury, who wished to shew her kindness--and with Emma it was grown into a first wish. She had scarcely a stronger regret than for her past coldness; and the person, whom she had been so many months neglecting, was now the very one on whom she would have lavished every distinction of regard or sympathy. She wanted to be of use to her; wanted to shew a value for her society, and testify respect and consideration. She resolved to prevail on her to spend a day at Hartfield. A note was written to urge it. The invitation was refused, and by a verbal message. "Miss Fairfax was not well enough to write;" and when Mr. Perry called at Hartfield, the same morning, it appeared that she was so much indisposed as to have been visited, though against her own consent, by himself, and that she was suffering under severe headaches, and a nervous fever to a degree, which made him doubt the possibility of her going to Mrs. Smallridge's at the time proposed. Her health seemed for the moment completely deranged-appetite quite gone--and though there were no absolutely

alarming symptoms, nothing touching the pulmonary complaint, which was the standing apprehension of the family, Mr. Perry was uneasy about her. He thought she had undertaken more than she was equal to, and that she felt it so herself, though she would not own it. Her spirits seemed overcome. Her present home, he could not but observe, was unfavourable to a nervous disorder:-confined always to one room;--he could have wished it otherwise-and her good aunt, though his very old friend, he must acknowledge to be not the best companion for an invalid of that description. Her care and attention could not be questioned; they were, in fact, only too great. He very much feared that Miss Fairfax derived more evil than good from them. Emma listened with the warmest concern; grieved for her more and more, and looked around eager to discover some way of being useful. To take her--be it only an hour or two--from her aunt, to give her change of air and scene, and quiet rational conversation, even for an hour or two, might do her good; and the following morning she wrote again to say, in the most feeling language she could command, that she would call for her in the carriage at any hour that Jane would name-mentioning that she had Mr. Perry's decided opinion, in favour of such exercise for his patient. The answer was only in this short note: "Miss Fairfax's compliments and thanks, but is quite unequal to any exercise." Emma felt that her own note had deserved something better; but it was impossible to quarrel with words, whose tremulous inequality shewed indisposition so plainly, and she thought only of how she might best counteract this unwillingness to be seen or assisted. In spite of the answer, therefore, she ordered the carriage, and drove to Mrs. Bates's, in the hope that Jane would be induced to join her-but it would not do;--Miss Bates came to the carriage door, all gratitude, and agreeing with her most earnestly in thinking an airing might be of the greatest service--and every thing that message could do was tried-but all in vain. Miss Bates was obliged to return without success; Jane was quite unpersuadable; the mere proposal of going out seemed to make her worse.--Emma wished she could have seen her, and tried her own powers; but, almost before she could hint the wish, Miss Bates made it appear that she had promised her niece on no account to let Miss Woodhouse in. "Indeed, the truth was, that poor dear Jane could not bear to see any body--any body at all-Mrs. Elton, indeed, could not be denied--and Mrs. Cole had made such a point--and Mrs. Perry had said so much--but, except them, Jane would really see nobody."

Emma did not want to be classed with the Mrs. Eltons, the Mrs. Perrys, and the Mrs. Coles, who would force themselves anywhere; neither could she feel any right of preference herself-she submitted, therefore, and only questioned Miss Bates farther as to her niece's appetite and diet, which she longed to be able to assist. On that subject poor Miss Bates was very unhappy, and very communicative; Jane would hardly eat any thing:-Mr. Perry recommended nourishing food; but every thing they could command (and never had any body such good neighbours) was distasteful. Emma, on reaching home, called the housekeeper directly, to an examination of her stores; and some arrowroot of very superior quality was speedily despatched to Miss Bates with a most friendly note. In half an hour the arrowroot was returned, with a thousand thanks from Miss Bates, but "dear Jane would not be satisfied without its being sent back; it was a thing she could not take--and, moreover, she insisted on her saying, that she was not at all in want of any thing." When Emma afterwards heard that Jane Fairfax had been seen wandering about the meadows, at some distance from Highbury, on the afternoon of the very day on which she had, under the plea of being unequal to any exercise, so peremptorily refused to go out with her in the carriage, she could have no doubt--putting every thing together-that Jane was resolved to receive no kindness from her. She was sorry, very sorry. Her heart was grieved for a state which seemed but the more pitiable from this sort of irritation of spirits, inconsistency of action, and inequality of powers; and it mortified her that she was given so little credit for proper feeling, or esteemed so little worthy as a friend: but she had the consolation of knowing that her intentions were good, and of being able to say to herself, that could Mr. Knightley have been privy to all her attempts of assisting Jane Fairfax, could he even have seen into her heart, he would not, on this occasion, have found any thing to reprove.
Volume Three Chapter Ten

One morning, about ten days after Mrs. Churchill's decease, Emma was called downstairs to Mr. Weston, who "could not stay five minutes, and wanted particularly to speak with her."-He met her at the parlour-door, and hardly asking her how she did, in the natural key of his voice, sunk it immediately, to say, unheard by her father, "Can you come to Randalls at any time this morning?--Do, if it be possible. Mrs. Weston wants to see you. She must see you." "Is she unwell?"

and that you know--(nodding towards her father)--Humph!--Can you come?" "Certainly. that it has nothing to do with any of them? Good Heavens!--What can be to be broke to me. "Now. do let me know what has happened." "Upon my word. but. Do not be impatient. It is not in the smallest degree connected with any human being of the name of Knightley." ."--said Emma." "No. She will break it to you better than I can. Weston. that she would take her walk now. Emma. as her friend was well. You will know it all in time. not at all--only a little agitated. that does not relate to one of that family?" "Upon my honour. no. but she must see you alone. and come to you. She would have ordered the carriage." cried Emma. Tell me. it will all come out too soon." said he very seriously. Weston."--he gravely replied. Weston do not trifle with me." "No. indeed you are mistaken. was impossible even for Emma."-"Mr. The most unaccountable business! But hush." "Break it to me.--Consider how many of my dearest friends are now in Brunswick Square.-"now Mr. Something really important seemed announced by his looks. no."-"Your word!--why not your honour!--why not say upon your honour. and settling it with her father.-"Good God!--Mr.--Something has happened in Brunswick Square. But what can be the matter?-Is she really not ill?" "Depend upon me--but ask no more questions. It is impossible to refuse what you ask in such a way. I promised my wife to leave it all to her. Which of them is it?-I charge you by all that is sacred. not to attempt concealment. I charge you tell me this moment what it is. she and Mr. if you please. Emma."No. tell me at once.--"Don't ask me. I know it has. Weston were soon out of the house together and on their way at a quick pace for Randalls. she endeavoured not to be uneasy. standing still with terror. hush!" To guess what all this meant. "it does not. This moment. when they were fairly beyond the sweep gates.

in a tone much more guarded and demure.--it is not Frank. merely employed her own fancy. and were speedily at Randalls. There is no use in delay.--that is." They hurried on. well." said he. She has not the least idea. "Who is that gentleman on horseback?" said she.--"I have been as good as my word. "I was wrong. and then added. In fact. She asked no more questions therefore. before he quitted the room. I shall leave you together. and that soon pointed out to her the probability of its being some money concern--something just come to light. then?" "Oh! yes--did not you know?--Well. perhaps--and poor Frank cut off!-This. I should not have used the expression. It inspired little more than an animating curiosity. Half a dozen natural children. Her fancy was very active. I assure you. and she walked on.--If we walk fast." he continued. "in talking of its being broke to you. Frank came over this morning. Weston in keeping his secret. I don't say that it is not a disagreeable business--but things might be much worse. though very undesirable."-And Emma distinctly heard him add." "Has your son been with you. He is half way to Windsor by this time. if you want me.--Humph!--In short. "Yes. we shall soon be at Randalls. just to ask us how we did. my dear Emma. You will not see him. as they entered the room--"I have brought her.--One of the Otways. and now I hope you will soon be better. as they proceeded-speaking more to assist Mr. my dear. there is no occasion to be so uneasy about it. we hope. and now it required little effort.Emma's courage returned.--something which the late event at Richmond had brought forward. it does not concern you-it concerns only myself. of a disagreeable nature in the circumstances of the family. I shall not be far off." For a moment he was silent.--"Well.--Not Frank. never mind. in a lower tone." ." Emma found that she must wait. than with any other view. "I do not know. would be no matter of agony to her.

But it is even so. that though perfectly convinced of the fact. and then of Harriet. nor his. my dear Emma--cannot you form a guess as to what you are to hear?" "So far as that it relates to Mr." resumed Mrs. nor her family." "You are right. has occurred. We both abhor suspense. Do not let mine continue longer.-It is so wonderful. "More than an attachment. "What is it my dear friend? Something of a very unpleasant nature. Emma--what will any body say. It will do you good to speak of your distress. "Cannot you. I do guess. horror-struck. and seeming resolved against looking up.) "He has been here this very morning. "Jane Fairfax!--Good God! You are not serious? You do not mean it?" "You may well be amazed. I have been walking all this way in complete suspense. that Emma might have time to recover-"You may well be amazed. whatever it may be.--and." Emma scarcely heard what was said. . Weston. I can hardly believe it. Weston." "Have you indeed no idea?" said Mrs. Weston in a trembling voice.Mrs. "an engagement-a positive engagement.--nay. she eagerly said. It does relate to him. still averting her eyes." (resuming her work." returned Mrs. and talking on with eagerness. and the moment they were alone. It is impossible to express our surprize. He came to speak to his father on a subject.--Her mind was divided between two ideas--her own former conversations with him about Miss Fairfax.--do let me know directly what it is. when it is known that Frank Churchill and Miss Fairfax are engaged. Weston was looking so ill. Frank Churchill. and I will tell you directly. and kept a secret from every body. that Emma's uneasiness increased. Emma thought first of herself. indeed.--What will you say. that they have been long engaged!" Emma even jumped with surprize. I find. There has been a solemn engagement between them ever since October--formed at Weymouth. Not a creature knowing it but themselves--neither the Campbells.-I thought I knew him. exclaimed.--to announce an attachment--" She stopped to breathe. and had an air of so much perturbation. it is yet almost incredible to myself. on a most extraordinary errand.

and then replied. it did cease. be assured that no such effect has followed his attentions to me. for at least these three months." Mrs. before I can at all comprehend it. cared nothing about him.--It has hurt me." "I have escaped." said she.--and for some time she could only exclaim. may be a matter of grateful wonder to you and myself. You may believe me. It was our darling wish that you might be attached to each other--and we were persuaded that it was so. is perhaps the wonder. Emma. It has hurt his father equally. "I will farther tell you. But this does not acquit him. and to give you all the relief in my power. "this is a circumstance which I must think of at least half a day. Fortunately. and when she could find utterance. as he certainly did--to distinguish any one young woman with persevering attention." Mrs. Mrs. but Emma's countenance was as steady as her words.--secretly engaged. "Mr. "That you may have less difficulty in believing this boast." she continued. as he certainly did--while he really belonged . "On this point we have been wretched. Weston will be almost as much relieved as myself. Weston. What!--engaged to her all the winter-before either of them came to Highbury?" "Engaged since October." Emma pondered a moment. that there was a period in the early part of our acquaintance. that this protestation had done her more good than any thing else in the world could do. I have really for some time past. very much." said she at last. repeated confirmation. that I think him greatly to blame.and poor Harriet. of my present perfect indifference. This is the simple truth. "I will not pretend not to understand you. and with manners so very disengaged? What right had he to endeavour to please. Weston kissed her with tears of joy. What right had he to come among us with affection and faith engaged. "Well. as you are apprehensive of. and require confirmation. was attached--and how it came to cease. however. Weston. Mrs. and that I should escape. when I did like him. afraid to believe. when I was very much disposed to be attached to him--nay. and I must say.-Imagine what we have been feeling on your account. Weston looked up. Some part of his conduct we cannot excuse. trying to recover herself. assured her.

which a man should display in every transaction of his life. while repeated attentions were offering to another woman. They burst on him. and. that disdain of trick and littleness. that strict adherence to truth and principle." . not communicated to him--or at least not communicated in a way to carry conviction. he said so expressly. Emma." "There were misunderstandings between them. Emma. good qualities. The present crisis. throw himself on his kindness. and those misunderstandings might very possibly arise from the impropriety of his conduct. indeed.--"Mrs. Smallridge. very many.-Till yesterday. put an end to the miserable state of concealment that had been carrying on so long. for though he has been wrong in this instance.--That is a degree of placidity. but by some letter or message-and it was the discovery of what she was doing." "Nay. own it all to his uncle. now I must take his part. much beyond impropriety!--It has sunk him. not attending to her. He was here only a quarter of an hour. in short. So unlike what a man should be!-None of that upright integrity.to another?--How could he tell what mischief he might be doing?-How could he tell that he might not be making me in love with him?-very wrong. It was a private resolution of hers. I rather imagine--" "And how could she bear such behaviour! Composure with a witness! to look on. I cannot say how it has sunk him in my opinion. which determined him to come forward at once. I have known him long enough to answer for his having many. dear Emma." "From something that he said. before her face. I do not know how. and not resent it. and in a state of agitation which did not allow the full use even of the time he could stay-but that there had been misunderstandings he decidedly said. of this very project of hers. I know he said he was in the dark as to her plans. Weston--it is too calm a censure. which I can neither comprehend nor respect." "Impropriety! Oh! Mrs. seemed to be brought on by them. Much. too! Jane actually on the point of going as governess! What could he mean by such horrible indelicacy? To suffer her to engage herself-to suffer her even to think of such a measure!" "He knew nothing about it. very wrong indeed. and--" "Good God!" cried Emma. my dear Emma. He had not time to enter into much explanation. On this article I can fully acquit him.

as I tell you. there had been the shock of finding her so very unwell. that." replied Emma dryly. for this letter." "This was settled last night. "I am to hear from him soon.Emma began to listen better.--In addition to all the rest." "His sufferings. to whom he is just now more necessary than ever. some time--and then came on hither. and Frank was off with the light this morning. "He told me at parting. Churchill lived. and now that I am satisfied on one point. Well. that he should soon write. and he spoke in a manner which seemed to promise me many particulars that could not be given now. and how did Mr. at the Bates's. He stopped at Highbury. which he had had no previous suspicion of-and there was every appearance of his having been feeling a great deal. Churchill take it?" "Most favourably for his nephew--gave his consent with scarcely a difficulty. but was in such a hurry to get back to his uncle. Weston. than her husband is persuaded to act exactly opposite to what she would have required. when undue influence does not survive the grave!-He gave his consent with very little persuasion. Let us wait. "do not appear to have done him much harm. Conceive what the events of a week have done in that family! While poor Mrs. What a blessing it is.-He was very much agitated--very much. he could stay with us but a quarter of an hour. I suppose there could not have been a hope. the one material point. "he would have done as much for Harriet." continued Mrs." "And do you really believe the affair to have been carrying on with such perfect secresy?--The Campbells. and ready to hope that it may.--but scarcely are her remains at rest in the family vault. It may bring many extenuations. don't let us be in a hurry to condemn him. ." "Ah!" thought Emma. It may make many things intelligible and excusable which now are not to be understood. Let us have patience. I must love him. therefore. I fancy. I am sincerely anxious for its all turning out well. did none of them know of the engagement?" Emma could not speak the name of Dixon without a little blush. a possibility. They must both have suffered a great deal under such a system of secresy and concealment. indeed--to a degree that made him appear quite a different creature from any thing I had ever seen him before. a chance. Don't let us be severe. the Dixons.

while he was coming round. Churchill does not feel that. have spoken ill of her. Weston. let me intreat you to say and look every thing that may set his heart at ease. added. when you imagined a certain friend of ours in love with the lady. why should we? and it may be a very fortunate circumstance for him. comparing and sitting in judgment on sentiments and words that were never meant for both to hear. But as I have always had a thoroughly good opinion of Miss Fairfax. and incline him to be satisfied with the match. Weston appeared at a little distance from the window.'" . "I am very sure that I never said any thing of either to the other. and such a league in secret to judge us all!--Here have we been. His wife gave him a look which invited him in.--They must take the consequence. Let us make the best of it--and. "Now. for Frank. dearest Emma. and. not one." "You are in luck. indeed!" cried Emma feelingly."None. under any blunder. that he should have attached himself to a girl of such steadiness of character and good judgment as I have always given her credit for-and still am disposed to give her credit for. and as to speaking ill of him. But I shall always think it a very abominable sort of proceeding. and treachery?-To come among us with professions of openness and simplicity." "Well. and I wish them very happy. I mean. the whole winter and spring. And how much may be said in her situation for even that error!" "Much. completely duped. I never could. "If a woman can ever be excused for thinking only of herself.--espionage. one may almost say. indeed." said Emma. "I suppose we shall gradually grow reconciled to the idea. there I must have been safe. He positively said that it had been known to no being in the world but their two selves." At this moment Mr. evidently on the watch.--Of such." "True. but if Mr. nor the world's law. in spite of this one great deviation from the strict rule of right. almost every thing may be fairly said in her favour. What has it been but a system of hypocrisy and deceit.--Your only blunder was confined to my ear. which both might not have heard. with two people in the midst of us who may have been carrying round." replied Mrs. it is in a situation like Jane Fairfax's. fancying ourselves all on an equal footing of truth and honour. It is not a connexion to gratify. that `the world is not their's. if they have heard each other spoken of in a way not perfectly agreeable!" "I am quite easy on that head.

which made her so angry with him.--She felt that she had been . he was become perfectly reconciled. at least. and which constituted the real misery of the business to her. or smooth objections.--I congratulate you. I suppose. and he had talked it all over again with Emma. and exercise my talent of guessing. and its happy effect on his spirits was immediate. Weston on his entrance. "Emma. Weston. with a smiling countenance. that gave the deepest hue to his offence. that he now only wanted time and persuasion to think the engagement no very bad thing. It was the scrape which he had drawn her into on Harriet's account. His air and voice recovered their usual briskness: he shook her heartily and gratefully by the hand.She met Mr. His companions suggested only what could palliate imprudence.--It was true that she had not to charge herself. with all my heart. when he once said. you have been no friend to Harriet Smith. and not far from thinking it the very best thing that Frank could possibly have done.--but it was not so much his behaviour as her own. Her influence would have been enough. And here. But you really frightened me. for Harriet had acknowledged her admiration and preference of Frank Churchill before she had ever given her a hint on the subject. on the prospect of having one of the most lovely and accomplished young women in England for your daughter. convinced him that all was as right as this speech proclaimed. I thought you had lost half your property. instead of its being a matter of condolence. And now she was very conscious that she ought to have prevented them."--She was afraid she had done her nothing but disservice. Mr. Knightley had spoken prophetically. in their walk back to Hartfield. poor Harriet!"--Those were the words." A glance or two between him and his wife.--Poor Harriet! to be a second time the dupe of her misconceptions and flattery. but she felt completely guilty of having encouraged what she might have repressed. upon my word! This was a device. to sport with my curiosity. with having suggested such feelings as might otherwise never have entered Harriet's imagination. Frank Churchill had behaved very ill by herself--very ill in many ways. Mr. She might have prevented the indulgence and increase of such sentiments. "A very pretty trick you have been playing me. it turns out to be one of congratulation. in this instance as in the former. with being the sole and original author of the mischief. Volume Three Chapter Eleven "Harriet. exclaiming. and entered on the subject in a manner to prove. in them lay the tormenting ideas which Emma could not get rid of. and by the time they had talked it all over together.

it would have been dreadful. and prosperous. and every body admitted it to be no more than due decorum." she added.risking her friend's happiness on most insufficient grounds. the whole affair was to be completely a secret. "I am afraid I have had little to do. that she should have the very same distressing and delicate office to perform by Harriet. It was her superior duty. No doubt it had been from jealousy. it would. must be equally under cure. whose troubles and whose ill-health having. and as far as her mind could disengage itself from the injustice and selfishness of angry feelings. and well might any thing she could offer of assistance or regard be repulsed. Harriet would be anxiety enough.--She would soon be well. . The intelligence. "For the present. however.-Emma could now imagine why her own attentions had been slighted. An airing in the Hartfield carriage would have been the rack. she was now to be anxiously announcing to another. and as soon as possible. This discovery laid many smaller matters open. Common sense would have directed her to tell Harriet. Her heart beat quick on hearing Harriet's footstep and voice. If she could not have been angry with Frank Churchill too. Churchill had made a point of it. Mr. and that there were five hundred chances to one against his ever caring for her. so. and arrowroot from the Hartfield storeroom must have been poison. had poor Mrs. that she must not allow herself to think of him. it ought.--"But. Emma was sadly fearful that this second disappointment would be more severe than the first. Considering the very superior claims of the object. and happy. Weston's parting words. She understood it all. Weston had just gone through by herself. and judging by its apparently stronger effect on Harriet's mind.--In Jane's eyes she had been a rival." She was extremely angry with herself. with common sense. In spite of her vexation. she need no longer be unhappy about Jane.-As for Jane Fairfax. which Mrs.-She must communicate the painful truth. An injunction of secresy had been among Mr. But poor Harriet was such an engrossing charge! There was little sympathy to be spared for any body else. she supposed. the same origin. of course.--Her days of insignificance and evil were over. as a token of respect to the wife he had so very recently lost. producing reserve and self-command. which had been so anxiously announced to her."-Emma had promised. she acknowledged that Jane Fairfax would have neither elevation nor happiness beyond her desert. she could not help feeling it almost ridiculous. Weston felt when she was approaching Randalls. she might at least relieve her feelings from any present solicitude on her account. but still Harriet must be excepted.

--You (blushing as she spoke) who can see into every body's heart. Can you seriously ask me. "Oh! he told me all about it. I should have cautioned you accordingly. Frank Churchill. Harriet. I should not think of mentioning it to any body but you." replied Emma. Frank Churchill's having the least regard for Jane Fairfax." said Emma. by look or voice. Harriet's behaviour was so extremely odd. Her character appeared absolutely changed. if not openly-encouraging you to give way to your own feelings?--I never had the slightest suspicion. Weston has told me himself. indeed. and that they have been privately engaged to one another this long while. therefore. that Jane Fairfax and Mr. but nobody else--" "Upon my word. and astonished. colouring.Could the event of the disclosure bear an equal resemblance!-But of that. Miss Woodhouse!" cried Harriet. She seemed to propose shewing no agitation. I met him just now. quite unable to speak. "of his being in love with her?--You. smiling. Frank Churchill are to be married. that Emma did not know how to understand it. coming eagerly into the room-"is not this the oddest news that ever was?" "What news do you mean?" replied Emma. or disappointment. "About Jane Fairfax. but he said you knew it." cried Harriet." "Me!" cried Harriet. whether Harriet could indeed have received any hint. "I begin to doubt my having any such talent. "Why should you caution me?--You do not think I care about Mr. still perplexed. for Mr. whether I imagined him attached to another woman at the very time that I was--tacitly." "What did Mr. perhaps. How very odd!" It was. or peculiar concern in the discovery. Weston tell you?"--said Emma. Emma looked at her. of Mr. He told me it was to be a great secret." "I am delighted to hear you speak so stoutly on the subject. till within the last hour. unable to guess. unfortunately. "but you do not mean to deny that there was a time--and not very distant either--when you gave me reason to understand that you did care about him?" . there could be no chance. Did you ever hear any thing so strange? Oh!--you need not be afraid of owning it to me. so odd. might. and. You may be very sure that if I had. "Had you any idea. "Well.

" returned Emma.-I should not have dared to give way to--I should not have thought it possible--But if you. I should have considered it at first too great a presumption almost. Harriet. it was as clear as possible. Frank Churchill." "Not quite. and she sat down. waiting in great terror till Harriet should answer. who is like nobody by his side. that there had been matches of greater disparity (those were your very words)." "Oh! Miss Woodhouse. "that you could have misunderstood me! I know we agreed never to name him-but considering how infinitely superior he is to every body else. "I should not have thought it possible. with forced calmness. and when she did speak. who had been always acquainted with him--" "Harriet!" cried Emma. if you had not told me that more wonderful things had happened. I hope I have a better taste than to think of Mr. At first. "Harriet!" cried Emma. I am sure the service Mr. was spoken of. how you do forget!" . in protecting you from the gipsies. I never could have an idea of any body else-and so I thought you knew. how could you so mistake me?" turning away distressed. never. I should not have thought it possible that I could be supposed to mean any other person. it was in a voice nearly as agitated as Emma's. Frank Churchill. but for believing that you entirely approved and meant to encourage me in my attachment."Him!--never." she began. 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. "for all that you then said. Are you speaking of--Mr. who was standing at some distance. collecting herself resolutely--"Let us understand each other now. Knightley?" "To be sure I am. is amazing!--I am sure. did not immediately say any thing. Frank Churchill. Mr. to dare to think of him. without the possibility of farther mistake. indeed! I do not know who would ever look at him in the company of the other. I could almost assert that you had named Mr. and with face turned from her. Frank Churchill had rendered you. When we talked about him. appeared to me to relate to a different person. And that you should have been so mistaken.--Her voice was lost. Dear Miss Woodhouse.

" Harriet was standing at one of the windows. Knightley should really--if he does not mind the disparity. I am sure. and when there was no other partner in the room. I told you that I did not wonder at your attachment." she resumed. and. dear Miss Woodhouse. But you know they were your own words. Miss Woodhouse. may have occurred before-and if I should be so fortunate. beyond expression. Emma turned round to look at her in consternation. "I do not wonder. you will not set yourself against it. matches of greater disparity had taken place than between Mr. and hastily said. Frank Churchill and me. I perfectly remember the substance of what I said on the occasion. "this has been a most unfortunate-most deplorable mistake!--What is to be done?" "You would not have encouraged me. But I hope. expressing yourself very warmly as to your sense of that service." cried Harriet. I hope. It was not the gipsies--it was not Mr. "that you should feel a great difference between the two. that was the service which made me begin to feel how superior he was to every other being upon earth."My dear Harriet. and now--it is possible--" She paused a few moments. but I was thinking of something very different at the time. Frank Churchill that I meant. when Mr." "Good God!" cried Emma. and try to put difficulties in the way. "Have you any idea of Mr. But you are too good for that. I cannot be worse off than I should have been. however. that considering the service he had rendered you. if you had understood me? At least. and mentioning even what your sensations had been in seeing him come forward to your rescue. dear.--The impression of it is strong on my memory. that more wonderful things had happened." "Oh. it was extremely natural:--and you agreed to it. Emma could not speak. Elton would not stand up with me. Miss Woodhouse. as to me or as to any body. it seems as if such a thing even as this. then. that was the noble benevolence and generosity. as to-if Mr. "now I recollect what you mean. That was the kind action. No! (with some elevation) I was thinking of a much more precious circumstance-of Mr. that supposing--that if-strange as it may appear--. Knightley's coming and asking me to dance. therefore. Knightley's returning your affection?" . You must think one five hundred million times more above me than the other. if the other had been the person.

and. that Mr. by the now encouraging manner of such a judge. How improperly had she been acting by Harriet! How inconsiderate. Why was it so much worse that Harriet should be in love with Mr. but not fearfully--"I must say that I have. and she was ready to give it every bad name in the world. though trembling delight. however." Emma's eyes were instantly withdrawn. to give the history of her hopes with great." replied Harriet modestly. and she sat silently meditating.--Emma's tremblings as she asked. A mind like hers. and subduing her emotion. who had been standing in no unhappy reverie. that was quite sunk and lost. in spite of all these demerits-some concern for her own appearance. and Harriet had done nothing to forfeit the regard and interest which had been so voluntarily formed and maintained--or to deserve to be slighted by the person. Knightley and themselves. but her mind was in all the perturbation that such a development of self. and such a friend as Miss Woodhouse. made rapid progress. whose counsels had never led her right. and only wanted invitation.-Rousing from reflection. Knightley--but justice required that she should not be made unhappy by any coldness now. once opening to suspicion. renewed the conversation. A few minutes were sufficient for making her acquainted with her own heart. were better concealed than Harriet's. Knightley must marry no one but herself! Her own conduct. with the speed of an arrow. Her voice was not unsteady. was before her in the same few minutes. was yet very glad to be called from it."Yes. for as to the subject which had first introduced it.) gave Emma the resolution to sit and endure farther with calmness. she turned to Harriet again. how irrational. how unfeeling had been her conduct! What blindness. Some portion of respect for herself. therefore. with even apparent kindness. for a few minutes. Knightley. it was fit that the utmost extent of Harriet's hopes should be enquired into. such a burst of threatening evil. in a fixed attitude.-Neither of them thought but of Mr. than with Frank Churchill? Why was the evil so dreadfully increased by Harriet's having some hope of a return? It darted through her. but they were not less. and as she listened. in a more inviting accent. what madness. as well as her own heart. how indelicate. the wonderful story of Jane Fairfax. had led her on! It struck her with dreadful force.--For her own advantage indeed. She saw it all with a clearness which had never blessed her before. Harriet. . She touched-she admitted--she acknowledged the whole truth. and a strong sense of justice by Harriet--(there would be no need of compassion to the girl who believed herself loved by Mr.

but it contained. and talked so very delightfully!--He seemed to want to be acquainted with her.) He seemed to be almost asking her. honest. for having simple. or well arranged. Harriet had begun to be sensible of his talking to her much more than he had been used to do. were not without some degree of witness from Emma herself. or at least from the time of Miss Woodhouse's encouraging her to think of him. was his walking with her apart from the others. the two of strongest promise to Harriet. the very last morning of his . a substance to sink her spirit-especially with the corroborating circumstances. and of his having indeed quite a different manner towards her.-She listened with much inward suffering. generous. and contained multiplied proofs to her who had seen them. but with great outward patience. a preference inferred. When they had been all walking together.--The first. he changed the subject. he had so often come and walked by her. a speech. to Harriet's detail. when separated from all the feebleness and tautology of the narration. feelings. in the lime-walk at Donwell. where they had been walking some time before Emma came. found her much superior to his expectation.-She knew that he saw such recommendations in Harriet.-Harriet repeated expressions of approbation and praise from him-and Emma felt them to be in the closest agreement with what she had known of his opinion of Harriet. he had talked to her in a more particular way than he had ever done before. had passed undiscerned by her who now heard them. he had dwelt on them to her more than once. was his having sat talking with her nearly half an hour before Emma came back from her visit. because unsuspected.--Emma knew that he had. many little particulars of the notice she had received from him. whether her affections were engaged. must create.--Methodical. Circumstances that might swell to half an hour's relation. Harriet had been conscious of a difference in his behaviour ever since those two decisive dances. He praised her for being without art or affectation.--Much that lived in Harriet's memory. had been unnoticed. but the two latest occurrences to be mentioned. which her own memory brought in favour of Mr. a compliment implied. From that evening. or very well delivered. to almost the same extent. it could not be expected to be.such a confusion of sudden and perplexing emotions. She had often observed the change. by Emma.-But as soon as she (Miss Woodhouse) appeared likely to join them. and he had taken pains (as she was convinced) to draw her from the rest to himself--and at first. in a very particular way indeed!--(Harriet could not recall it without a blush. Emma knew it to have been very much the case. Knightley's most improved opinion of Harriet. and began talking about farming:-The second. on that occasion. a manner of kindness and sweetness!--Latterly she had been more and more aware of it. a removal from one chair to another. a look.

therefore. he had said that he could not stay five minutes--and his having told her. Martin's interest in view? But Harriet rejected the suspicion with spirit. after a little reflection. and let his behaviour be the rule of mine--and so I have." Harriet seemed ready to worship her friend for a sentence so satisfactory. Harriet was too much agitated to encounter him. she did. Knightley is the last man in the world. who would intentionally give any woman the idea of his feeling for her more than he really does. Martin! No indeed!--There was not a hint of Mr. "She could not compose herself-Mr. made the utmost exertion necessary on Emma's side. I will only venture to declare. Woodhouse would be alarmed--she had better go. when he first came in. that when enquiring. "but for you. Martin-he might have Mr. than to care for Mr. or to be suspected of it. that though he must go to London. the many bitter feelings. this was the spontaneous burst of Emma's feelings: "Oh God! that I had never seen her!" . as you thought. which was much more (as Emma felt) than he had acknowledged to her. "Harriet. You told me to observe him carefully." The bitter feelings occasioned by this speech. into the state of your affections. and that if he does chuse me. venture the following question. But now I seem to feel that I may deserve him."--with most ready encouragement from her friend. he might be alluding to Mr. Martin. she appealed to her dear Miss Woodhouse. to say whether she had not good ground for hope. gave her severe pain. it will not be any thing so very wonderful. He was coming through the hall. she passed off through another door--and the moment she was gone. that Mr. "Mr. I hope I know better now." said she. to enable her to say on reply. Martin. it was very much against his inclination that he left home at all. "Might he not?--Is not it possible.being at Hartfield--though. On the subject of the first of the two circumstances. which this one article marked. during their conversation. The superior degree of confidence towards Harriet. which at that moment would have been dreadful penance. by the sound of her father's footsteps." When Harriet had closed her evidence. "I never should have presumed to think of it at first. and Emma was only saved from raptures and fondness.

thoroughly understand her own heart. and she had not quite done nothing--for she had done mischief.--How to understand it all! How to understand the deceptions she had been thus practising on herself. With insufferable vanity had she believed herself in the secret of every body's feelings. Knightley been so dear to her. or when his regard for her had not been infinitely the most dear. and living under!--The blunders. She was proved to have been universally mistaken. she tried her own room. she perceived that she had acted most weakly. had it-oh! had it.-Every other part of her mind was disgusting. every posture. and without being long in reaching it. To that point went every leisure moment which her father's claims on her allowed. This was the knowledge of herself. in short. . such influence begun?-When had he succeeded to that place in her affection. occupied?--She looked back. by any blessed felicity. that she was wretched. she tried the shrubbery--in every place. which she reached. To understand. the blindness of her own head and heart!--she sat still.The rest of the day.-She was most sorrowfully indignant. that she had never really cared for Frank Churchill at all! This was the conclusion of the first series of reflection. as every feeling declared him now to be? When had his influence. that in persuading herself. that she had been imposing on herself in a degree yet more mortifying. and should probably find this day but the beginning of wretchedness. in fancying. from the time of the latter's becoming known to her-and as they must at any time have been compared by her.--She saw that there never had been a time when she did not consider Mr. which Frank Churchill had once. for a short period. totally ignorant of her own heart--and. on the first question of inquiry. to institute the comparison. as they had always stood in her estimation. in acting to the contrary. and every surprize must be matter of humiliation to her. Knightley. with unpardonable arrogance proposed to arrange every body's destiny. was the first endeavour. she compared the two--compared them. she walked about. she had been entirely under a delusion. occurred to her.--She was bewildered amidst the confusion of all that had rushed on her within the last few hours. the following night. How long had Mr. were hardly enough for her thoughts. and every moment of involuntary absence of mind. ashamed of every sensation but the one revealed to her--her affection for Mr. She saw. Knightley as infinitely the superior. that she had been imposed on by others in a most mortifying degree. Every moment had brought a fresh surprize.

it was impossible. and where he had told her she ought!--Had she not.--and even were this not the case. on her must rest all the reproach of having given it a beginning.-Her inferiority. How Harriet could ever have had the presumption to raise her thoughts to Mr. Mr. it was her doing too. Knightley!--How she could dare to fancy herself the chosen of such a man till actually assured of it!-But Harriet was less humble. and that her claims were great to a high worldly establishment?-If Harriet. affording nothing to be said or thought. from impossible. incongruous--or for chance and circumstance (as second causes) to direct the human fate? Oh! had she never brought Harriet forward! Had she left her where she ought. perhaps too busy to seek.She had brought evil on Harriet. and she too much feared. Volume Three Chapter Twelve . whether of mind or situation. to be the prize of a girl who would seek him?--Was it new for any thing in this world to be unequal.-She had seemed more sensible of Mr. to foresee the smiles. on herself. from being humble. very far. were grown vain. threadbare.--The attachment of Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax became commonplace.--Mr. that she was to elevate herself if possible. none of this dreadful sequel would have been.--Was it a new circumstance for a man of first-rate abilities to be captivated by very inferior powers? Was it new for one.-Alas! was not that her own doing too? Who had been at pains to give Harriet notions of self-consequence but herself?--Who but herself had taught her. presenting no disparity. the mortification and disdain of his brother. And yet it was far. he would never have known Harriet at all but for her folly. Knightley's. with a folly which no tongue could express. exciting no surprize. the sneers. stale in the comparison. she must believe to be produced only by a consciousness of Harriet's. had fewer scruples than formerly. for his attachment. Elton's being to stoop in marrying her. prevented her marrying the unexceptionable young man who would have made her happy and respectable in the line of life to which she ought to belong-all would have been safe. the merriment it would prompt at his expense. inconsistent. Knightley and Harriet Smith!--It was a union to distance every wonder of the kind. seemed little felt. on Mr. than she now seemed of Mr. Knightley.--Could it be?--No.--Were this most unequal of all connexions to take place. Knightley and Harriet Smith!--Such an elevation on her side! Such a debasement on his! It was horrible to Emma to think how it must sink him in the general opinion. the thousand inconveniences to himself.

with an endeavour to improve her. the same Mr. very dear?-When the suggestions of hope. how strongly had he expressed himself to her on the subject!--Not too strongly for the offence--but far. Harriet Smith might think herself not unworthy of being peculiarly. and quarrelling with him because he would not acknowledge her false and insolent estimate of her own--but still. and with what she felt for him. there had been only Isabella whose claims could be compared with hers. . She would not marry. first in interest and affection. which no other creature had at all shared. of his never marrying at all.Till now that she was threatened with its loss. Knightley to all the world. she felt she had been first. and only in the dread of being supplanted. Knightley.--Let him but continue the same Mr. and an anxiety for her doing right. passionately loved by Mr. She could not. found how inexpressibly important it had been. she had often been negligent or perverse. from family attachment and habit. nothing to deserve the name of hope. having no female connexions of his own. but his remaining single all his life. She had herself been first with him for many years past. at times much stronger.-She had no hope. She had received a very recent proof of its impartiality. far too strongly to issue from any feeling softer than upright justice and clear-sighted goodwill. insensible of half his merits. she could not presume to indulge them. Emma had never known how much of her happiness depended on being first with Mr. slighting his advice. She could not flatter herself with any idea of blindness in his attachment to her. or even wilfully opposing him. presented themselves. Knightley. she had enjoyed it without reflection. indeed. and feeling it her due. Nothing should separate her from her father. that he could have that sort of affection for herself which was now in question.--Long. very long. and her peace would be fully secured. exclusively.) that Harriet might have deceived herself. and she had always known exactly how far he loved and esteemed Isabella. he had loved her. which must follow here.--Satisfied that it was so. She had not deserved it. In spite of all her faults. she believed she should be perfectly satisfied. and thorough excellence of mind. Knightley.--Wish it she must. even if she were asked by Mr. It would be incompatible with what she owed to her father. she knew she was dear to him. Could she be secure of that. let Donwell and Hartfield lose none of their precious intercourse of friendship and confidence. for. for his sake--be the consequence nothing to herself.--Marriage.-How shocked had he been by her behaviour to Miss Bates! How directly. in fact. and watched over her from a girl. but there was a hope (at times a slight one. and be overrating his regard for her. might she not say. Knightley to her and her father. would not do for her. however.

as long as she could doubt. acknowledging it to be her conviction.-He was expected back every day. Weston had set off to pay the visit in a good deal of agitation herself. but she having then induced Miss Fairfax to join her in an airing. sleeping or waking. and she made the most of it while her friend related.--Harriet submitted.--She was resolved not to be convinced. and did not . it would do the subject no good.--She should see them henceforward with the closest observance. she did not know how to admit that she could be blinded here. that if a few days were allowed to pass before they met again. he was extremely anxious to shew his approbation to Miss Fairfax and her family. and took Hartfield in her way home. and in the first place had wished not to go at all at present. In the meanwhile.It must be her ardent wish that Harriet might be disappointed. she thought such a visit could not be paid without leading to reports:-but Mr. at present. Weston had thought differently. who had been calling on her daughter-in-law elect. with all the encumbrance of awkward feelings. and Mr.-It would do neither of them good.--She wrote to her. but decisively. The power of observation would be soon given--frightfully soon it appeared when her thoughts were in one course. considering every thing. the last twenty-four hours--Mrs. to relate all the particulars of so interesting an interview. was now returned with much more to say. This point was just arranged. and to defer this ceremonious call till a little time had passed. could have afforded. Weston had accompanied her to Mrs. to be talking of it farther. therefore. as. Bates's. and approved. and wretchedly as she had hitherto misunderstood even those she was watching. Bates's parlour. she might at least be able to ascertain what the chances for it were. to be allowed merely to write to Miss Fairfax instead. when a visitor arrived to tear Emma's thoughts a little from the one subject which had engrossed them. and she hoped. Weston. and was grateful. come to Hartfield. Churchill could be reconciled to the engagement's becoming known. A little curiosity Emma had. almost as much in duty to Emma as in pleasure to herself. To talk would be only to irritate. that all farther confidential discussion of one topic had better be avoided. Mrs. and yet had no authority for opposing Harriet's confidence. and much more to say with satisfaction. that when able to see them together again. than a quarter of an hour spent in Mrs. except in the company of others--she objected only to a tete-a-tete--they might be able to act as if they had forgotten the conversation of yesterday. and hoping. Mr. she resolved against seeing Harriet. to beg that she would not. and gone through his share of this essential attention most handsomely. kindly.

and felt that Mr. for having consented to a private engagement?" "Wrong! No one. I have been acting contrary to all my sense of right. and so it ought. in the course of their drive. yet almost an affecting. and the rapturous delight of her daughter--who proved even too joyous to talk as usual. thought so much of Jane. Emma. in short--and very great had been the evident distress and confusion of the lady. or if it were. is what my ." Emma smiled. I believe. they had talked a good deal of the present and of the future state of the engagement. by gentle encouragement. "always got about. This was one of her expressions." "Poor girl!" said Emma. as to bring her to converse on the important subject. But after all the punishment that misconduct can bring. and the warmest expressions of the gratitude she was always feeling towards herself and Mr. Weston had. can blame her more than she is disposed to blame herself.' said she. and the fortunate turn that every thing has taken. for "such things. but when these effusions were put by.conceive that any suspicion could be excited by it. She had hardly been able to speak a word. `I will not say. Mrs. that I have never known the blessing of one tranquil hour:'-and the quivering lip. and every look and action had shewn how deeply she was suffering from consciousness. which uttered it. was an attestation that I felt at my heart." he observed. `The consequence. so much of every body. Mrs. that since I entered into the engagement I have not had some happy moments. scene. "She thinks herself wrong. and the kindness I am now receiving. Miss Fairfax's recent illness had offered a fair plea for Mrs." continued Mrs. she had drawn back and declined at first. must necessarily open the cause. had been a gratifying. and so little of themselves. that it would be of any consequence. Weston. and was very much pleased with all that she had said on the subject. so disinterested in every sensation. I never can be blameless. The quiet. Weston was convinced that such conversation must be the greatest relief to her companion. Weston had very good reason for saying so. They had gone. pent up within her own mind as every thing had so long been. heart-felt satisfaction of the old lady. then. "she was energetic. but I can say. that every kindly feeling was at work for them. overcome so much of her embarrassment. and. Weston. `has been a state of perpetual suffering to me. Pain is no expiation. Weston to invite her to an airing. "On the misery of what she had suffered. but. They were both so truly respectable in their happiness. Apologies for her seemingly ungracious silence in their first reception. on being pressed had yielded. it is still not less misconduct. during the concealment of so many months.

and made her captious and irritable to a degree that must have been-that had been--hard for him to bear. would." . for his temper and spirits-his delightful spirits. as they were at first.' `Do not imagine. "that I must often have contributed to make her unhappy. "She loves him then excessively. "which. One natural consequence of the evil she had involved herself in. Weston. with all the excuse that present circumstances may appear to give. when alluding to the misunderstandings which he had given us hints of before. if there were an account drawn up of the evil and the good I have done Miss Fairfax!--Well (checking herself. under any other circumstances. and that gaiety. that playfulness of disposition. have been as constantly bewitching to me. "was that of making her unreasonable. Do not let any reflection fall on the principles or the care of the friends who brought me up. and I do assure you that. Her affection must have overpowered her judgment. seriously. my love. It is fit that the fortune should be on his side." "If I did not know her to be happy now. to thank you--I could not thank you too much--for every wish and every endeavour to do her good. had exposed her to a thousand inquietudes. oh! Mrs. She was sensible that you had never received any proper acknowledgment from herself." returned Emma. I have no doubt of her being extremely attached to him. The consciousness of having done amiss. madam. I am sure she is very good-I hope she will be very happy.--for. It must have been from attachment only." "On your side. sighing. `I did not make the allowances. and trying to be more lively). The error has been all my own. she must be. But she probably had something of that in her thoughts. I suppose.'" "Poor girl!" said Emma again.conscience tells me ought not to be." "I am afraid. `which I ought to have done. in spite of every little drawback from her scrupulous conscience." she said. You are very kind to bring me these interesting particulars. They shew her to the greatest advantage.' said she. and of the great kindness you had shewn her during her illness. I shall yet dread making the story known to Colonel Campbell. desired me. this is all to be forgotten.' She then began to speak of you.' she continued. whenever I had an opportunity. I could not bear these thanks. `that I was taught wrong. I am sure. that she could be led to form the engagement." "Yes. for I think the merit will be all on hers. and with a blush which shewed me how it was all connected. which." said Emma. it was very innocently done.

and her sense of past injustice towards Miss Fairfax. it had been the agony of a mind that would bear no more. and as she might. She thought well of Frank in almost every respect. she must. had she endeavoured to find a friend there instead of in Harriet Smith. She must have been a perpetual enemy. in paying that attention to Miss Fairfax. Weston's parting question. in knowing her as she ought. had she tried to know her better. She talked with a great deal of reason. and. to be received with gratitude. have been spared from every pain which pressed on her now. the cause. you know. by the levity or carelessness of Frank Churchill's. and the other--what was she?--Supposing even that they had never become intimate friends. which she had not only so foolishly fashioned and harboured herself. Be sure to give me intelligence of the letter as soon as possible. Weston ended with. she was persuaded that she must herself have been the worst. and her defence was. therefore. which was every way her due. what was more.Such a conclusion could not pass unanswered by Mrs. it was soon gone to Brunswick Square or to Donwell. by increasing her esteem and compassion. Dixon. She bitterly regretted not having sought a closer acquaintance with her. Of all the sources of evil surrounding the former. and blushed for the envious feelings which had certainly been.--Birth." she was obliged to pause before she answered. my Emma?" was Mrs. earnest. abilities. "Oh! perfectly. she forgot to attempt to listen. They never could have been all three together. had she done her part towards intimacy. had been equally marking one as an associate for her. before she could at all recollect what letter it was which they were so anxious for. perhaps. I am always well. in some measure. you know." Mrs. "Are you well. Weston's communications furnished Emma with more food for unpleasant reflection. and education. Had she followed Mr. but I hope it will soon come. . Knightley's known wishes. and at last obliged to answer at random. she must have been preserved from the abominable suspicions of an improper attachment to Mr. without her having stabbed Jane Fairfax's peace in a thousand instances. in all probability. that she had never been admitted into Miss Fairfax's confidence on this important matter-which was most probable--still. but had so unpardonably imparted. and on Box Hill. and when Mrs. "We have not yet had the letter we are so anxious for. and at least equal affection-but she had too much to urge for Emma's attention. Weston. since her coming to Highbury. an idea which she greatly feared had been made a subject of material distress to the delicacy of Jane's feelings. she loved him very much.

had proved erroneous. soon after tea. or even from walking about the room for a few seconds--and the only source whence any thing like consolation . The child to be born at Randalls must be a tie there even dearer than herself. she was not able to refrain from a start. and she left to cheer her father with the spirits only of ruined happiness. that it had been all her own work? When it came to such a pitch as this. If all took place that might take place among the circle of her friends. was threatening to a degree that could not be entirely dispelled-that might not be even partially brightened. as if ever willing to change his own home for their's!--How was it to be endured? And if he were to be lost to them for Harriet's sake. and by exertions which had never cost her half so much before. Alas! such delightful proofs of Hartfield's attraction. The weather added what it could of gloom. at Hartfield. and dissipated every melancholy fancy. the loss of Donwell were to be added. it was reasonable to suppose. as those sort of visits conveyed. or a heavy sigh. and if to these losses. the friend.--Frank Churchill would return among them no more. Knightley to be no longer coming there for his evening comfort!-No longer walking in at all hours. what could be increasing Emma's wretchedness but the reflection never far distant from her mind. on the evening of Mrs. the wife to whom he looked for all the best blessings of existence. The weather affected Mr. They would be married. her husband also. the first. and Miss Fairfax.The evening of this day was very long. what would remain of cheerful or of rational society within their reach? Mr. which the wind was despoiling. which only made such cruel sights the longer visible.--But her present forebodings she feared would experience no similar contradiction. in great measure. A cold stormy rain set in. would soon cease to belong to Highbury. but Mr. Weston's wedding-day. no friends had deserted them. if he were to be thought of hereafter. It reminded her of their first forlorn tete-a-tete. The picture which she had then drawn of the privations of the approaching winter. Knightley had walked in then. and melancholy. and he could only be kept tolerably comfortable by almost ceaseless attention on his daughter's side. Woodhouse. and the length of the day. They should lose her. as finding in Harriet's society all that he wanted. Hartfield must be comparatively deserted. if Harriet were to be the chosen. Weston's heart and time would be occupied by it. might shortly be over. the dearest. The prospect before her now. and. and nothing of July appeared but in the trees and shrubs. and Mrs. All that were good would be withdrawn. and settled either at or near Enscombe. probably. no pleasures had been lost.

She asked after their mutual friends. "He had just looked into the dining-room. With him it was most unnatural. They walked together. With all the eagerness which such a transition gives. he might be watching for encouragement to begin.--There. with spirits freshened. The "How d'ye do's" were quiet and constrained on each side.--It was the first intimation of his being returned from London. that he had perhaps been communicating his plans to his brother. She must be collected and calm. the sun appeared. she had taken a few turns. she lost no time ill hurrying into the shrubbery. tranquil. the wind changed into a softer quarter. and the hope that. feel equal to lead the way to any such subject. Volume Three Chapter Thirteen The weather continued much the same all the following morning. they were all well. seemed to reign at Hartfield--but in the afternoon it cleared. could not.--When had he left them?--Only that morning. as unquestionably sixteen miles distant. and the first possible cause for it. and leave her less to regret when it were gone. And this belief produced another dread. She had been thinking of him the moment before. Knightley passing through the garden door. Perhaps he wanted to speak to her. She longed for the serenity they might gradually introduce. of his attachment to Harriet. and on Mr. was in the resolution of her own better conduct. He must do it all himself. was. Perry's coming in soon after dinner. she found. and the same loneliness. Emma resolved to be out of doors as soon as possible. She considered--resolved--and. it would yet find her more rational. sensation of nature. In half a minute they were together. preferred being out of doors. Yet she could not bear this silence. however inferior in spirit and gaiety might be the following and every future winter of her life to the past. suggested by her fears. more acquainted with herself.--Yes. He was silent. and as he was not wanted there. began-- .or composure could be drawn. and thoughts a little relieved. it was summer again. and coming towards her. trying to smile. He must have had a wet ride. Never had the exquisite sight. and was pained by the manner in which they had been received. and trying for a fuller view of her face than it suited her to give. with a disengaged hour to give her father. when she saw Mr.--She did not.--He meant to walk with her.--There was time only for the quickest arrangement of mind. warm. and the same melancholy. the clouds were carried off. and brilliant after a storm. been more attractive to her. smell."--She thought he neither looked nor spoke cheerfully. She thought he was often looking at her.

and could presently say. "You probably have been less surprized than any of us. and heard him thus saying. "The feelings of the warmest friendship--Indignation--Abominable scoundrel!"-And in a louder." Emma understood him.--I wish I had attended to it--but--(with a sinking voice and a heavy sigh) I seem to have been doomed to blindness. Weston this morning. with a little more composure. in a tone of great sensibility. now you are come back. "If you mean Miss Fairfax and Frank Churchill.--I have not forgotten that you once tried to give me a caution. for you have had your suspicions. as if to be sure she intended to say no more. he concluded with. "He will soon be gone." Her arm was pressed again." "Have I?" said he quietly. and looking at her. Goddard's in his way. time will heal the wound. and as soon as she could recover from the flutter of pleasure. turning her glowing cheeks towards him. I have heard that already. in a more broken and subdued accent. my dearest Emma." Emma was quite relieved. She deserves a better fate. I am sorry for her. till she found her arm drawn within his. They will soon be in Yorkshire."You have some news to hear. he replied. speaking low. and at the end of them he gave me a brief account of what had happened." For a moment or two nothing was said." "How is it possible?" cried Emma. "Time. steadier tone. excited by such tender consideration. that will rather surprize you. while she spoke.--Your own excellent sense--your exertions for your father's sake--I know you will not allow yourself--. and she was unsuspicious of having excited any particular interest. for. "I had a few lines on parish business from Mr. as he added. . it occurred to her that he might have called at Mrs. replied. "of what nature?" "Oh! the best nature in the world--a wedding. and pressed against his heart." After waiting a moment.

indeed! and it will not be very long. Jane. however. a trick. but it was a hard case to be obliged still to lower herself in his opinion." said Emma. they all centre in this at last--my vanity was flattered. I cannot let you continue in your error. I hope. I confess.-But I never have.-I am not in want of that sort of compassion." "Mr. She supposed she must say more before she were entitled to his clemency. And now I can tolerably comprehend his behaviour. however--for some time. indeed?"-but checking himself--"No.--I was tempted by his attentions. trying to be lively. Weston--he was continually here--I always found him very pleasant--and. no. but he would not. She went on. you will be a miserable creature. in short. and I was very foolishly tempted to say and do many things which may well lay me open to unpleasant conjectures."You are very kind--but you are mistaken--and I must set you right.--I thought them a habit. and allowed myself to appear pleased. since my manners gave such an impression. but I have no other reason to regret that I was not in the secret earlier.--He is a disgrace to the name of man.--And is he to be rewarded with that sweet young woman?-Jane. My blindness to what was going on. and yet it may not be the more excusable in one who sets up as I do for Understanding." He listened in perfect silence. for (with a sigh) let me swell out the causes ever so ingeniously. I have as much reason to be ashamed of confessing that I never have been at all attached to the person we are speaking of. Knightley. and I allowed his attentions. assure myself as to the degree of what you felt-I could only be certain that there was a preference--and a preference which I never believed him to deserve. perhaps. "I have very little to say for my own conduct. She wished him to speak. He has imposed on me. nothing that called for seriousness on my side. led me to act by them in a way that I must always be ashamed of. looking eagerly at her." "Emma!" cried he.--Fortunate that your affections were not farther entangled!--I could never.-An old story. He was the son of Mr. but he has not injured me. but really confused-"I am in a very extraordinary situation. as it might be natural for a woman to feel in confessing exactly the reverse. from your manners. I understand you--forgive me--I am pleased that you can say even so much. probably--a common case--and no more than has happened to hundreds of my sex before. indeed-I have had no idea of their meaning any thing. and yet. "are you. . I have never been attached to him. Latterly. before that becomes the acknowledgment of more than your reason.--He is no object of regret. Many circumstances assisted the temptation.

I shall certainly wish him well. Every thing turns out for his good. for Jane Fairfax's character vouches for her disinterestedness.--A man would always wish to give a woman a better home than the one he takes her from." said Emma." She had hoped for an answer here--for a few words to say that her conduct was at least intelligible.--It was his object to blind all about him. gains her affection.--With such a woman he has a chance. "So early in life--at three-and-twenty--a period when.--I can suppose. such as must increase his felicity. and all the habits and manners that are important.-He had used every body ill--and they are all delighted to forgive him.--I have no motive for wishing him ill--and for her sake. in short. the favourite of fortune. as far as regards society. "I believe them to be very mutually and very sincerely attached. I was somehow or other safe from him. he may yet turn out well. for it will be his to bestow the only advantages she wants.--He has only to speak. be the happiest of mortals. in all human calculation. equality in every point but one-and that one.--Frank Churchill is. must. with energy. he generally chuses ill." "He is a most fortunate man!" returned Mr. I think. every thing in his favour. and tolerably in his usual tone. since the purity of her heart is not to be doubted. as far as she could judge. At three-and-twenty to have drawn such a prize! What years of felicity that man. My acquaintance with him has been but trifling.--And even if I have not underrated him hitherto.-equality of situation--I mean. cannot even weary her by negligent treatment--and had he and all his family sought round the world for a perfect wife for him. if a man chuses a wife. "I have never had a high opinion of Frank Churchill.He never wished to attach me. has before him!--Assured of the love of such a woman--the disinterested love. and. but he was silent. however. and he who can do it." "I have no doubt of their being happy together.--His aunt dies.-He is a fortunate man indeed!" .--His aunt is in the way. where there is no doubt of her regard. I am sure. and no one. could be more effectually blinded than myself--except that I was not blinded--that it was my good fortune--that.--His friends are eager to promote his happiness.--He meets with a young woman at a watering-place. they could not have found her superior. he said. whose happiness will be involved in his good character and conduct. At last. deep in thought. It was merely a blind to conceal his real situation with another. that I may have underrated him. indeed. Knightley.

and her immediate feeling was to avert the subject.--"Emma. yes. then. She made her plan. They seemed to be within half a sentence of Harriet.--You are wise--but I cannot be wise. though I may wish it unsaid the next moment. Emma could not bear to give him pain.--cost her what it would. don't speak it.--Emma. I accept it. to have no curiosity."You speak as if you envied him." And. when Mr. or reconcile him to it. after proceeding a few steps. He was wishing to confide in her-perhaps to consult her. Emma. I have no wish--Stay. she would listen.--Tell me. She might assist his resolution. "Take a little time." "Thank you. she might give just praise to Harriet.--You are determined. Perry is not gone. do not commit yourself. "You are going in. I am afraid.--But if you have any wish to speak openly to me as a friend. she would speak of something totally different--the children in Brunswick Square." she eagerly cried. I see.--I will hear whatever you like. in an accent of deep mortification. or to ask my opinion of any thing that you may have in contemplation--as a friend.--They had reached the house. don't speak it. I must tell you what you will not ask. Mr." said he. Emma. I suppose?" said he. you may command me. which must be more intolerable than any alternative to such a mind as his. and she only waited for breath to begin. she added-"I stopped you ungraciously." "Oh! then. I accept your offer-Extraordinary as it may seem. have I no chance of ever succeeding?" ."--replied Emma--quite confirmed by the depressed manner in which he still spoke--"I should like to take another turn. Mr. and not another syllable followed. indeed. that I fear is a word--No." "And I do envy him. gave you pain." "As a friend!"--repeated Mr. and. "No. if possible. consider. Knightley startled her. just now. In one respect he is the object of my envy. by representing to him his own independence." Emma could say no more. "You will not ask me what is the point of envy. relieve him from that state of indecision. Knightley. Knightley. I will tell you exactly what I think. by saying. or. and refer myself to you as a friend. why should I hesitate?-I have gone too far already for concealment.

Emma:" he soon resumed. her discouragement. "My dearest Emma. with all the wonderful velocity of thought. that she was every thing herself. you see. you understand my feelings-and will return them if you can. intelligible tenderness as was tolerably convincing. The manner. I ask only to hear." he cried. was perhaps the most prominent feeling. and to resolve that it need not. At present. there was time also to rejoice that Harriet's secret had not escaped her. as infinitely the most worthy of the two-or even the more simple sublimity of resolving to refuse him at once and for ever.He stopped in his earnestness to look the question.' if it is to be said."-She could really say nothing. without vouchsafing any motive.--Yes. as well as you have borne with them. decided.-Bear with the truths I would tell you now. and lectured you." Emma was almost ready to sink under the agitation of this moment. But you know what I am. "absolutely silent! at present I ask no more." said he. because he could not marry them both. her doubts. . with great animation. and should not.--I have blamed you. her reluctance.--"You are silent. once to hear your voice. with pain and with contrition. and the expression of his eyes overpowered her. Emma's mind was most busy. perhaps. with all their glow of attendant happiness." While he spoke. may have as little to recommend them.-But you understand me. for as to any of that heroism of sentiment which might have prompted her to entreat him to transfer his affection from herself to Harriet. and. my dearest. and that her agitation. I have been a very indifferent lover. that what she had been saying relative to Harriet had been all taken as the language of her own feelings.--"If I loved you less. most beloved Emma--tell me at once. to see that Harriet's hopes had been entirely groundless. had been all received as discouragement from herself. The dread of being awakened from the happiest dream. I might be able to talk about it more. a delusion.--You hear nothing but truth from me. dearest Emma. whatever the event of this hour's conversation. "I cannot make speeches. a mistake. Emma had it not. and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it. had been able--and yet without losing a word-to catch and comprehend the exact truth of the whole. "for dearest you will always be.--And not only was there time for these convictions. and in a tone of such sincere. She felt for Harriet.--It was all the service she could now render her poor friend. God knows. Say `No. as complete a delusion as any of her own--that Harriet was nothing. but no flight of generosity run mad.

--She spoke then. in his anxiety to see how she bore Frank Churchill's engagement. on being so entreated. He had come. he had passed from a thoroughly distressed state of mind.--The change had perhaps been somewhat sudden. does complete truth belong to any human disclosure. or a heart more disposed to accept of his. or a little mistaken. been wholly unsuspicious of his own influence. or distrust. seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised.-She said enough to shew there need not be despair--and to invite him to say more himself. that it could bear no other name.--The rest had been the work of the moment. entered her brain. aspired to be told that she did not forbid his attempt to attach her.--This one half-hour had given to each the same precious certainty of being beloved.--she had begun by refusing to hear him. of her having a heart completely disengaged from him. in time.--but it had been no present hope--he had only. it may not be very material. He had despaired at one period. Seldom. Her change was equal. . if she allowed him an opening. as for the time crushed every hope. jealousy. to something so like perfect happiness.--On his side. but of endeavouring. the feelings are not. had cleared from each the same degree of ignorance. but her judgment was as strong as her feelings. in fact. He had followed her into the shrubbery with no idea of trying it. in the momentary conquest of eagerness over judgment. he might gain her affection himself. very seldom.opposing all that could be probable or reasonable. was already his!--Within half an hour. to soothe or to counsel her.--her proposal of taking another turn. there had been a long-standing jealousy. Knightley could not impute to Emma a more relenting heart than she possessed. of course. as most unequal and degrading. A lady always does. which he had been asking to be allowed to create. and seek no farther explanation. She had led her friend astray. and as strong as it had ever been before. on his feelings. might be a little extraordinary!--She felt its inconsistency. with no selfish view. though not quite smooth. the immediate effect of what he heard. he had received such an injunction to caution and silence. Her way was clear. had given birth to the hope. her renewing the conversation which she had just put an end to. but Mr. though the conduct is mistaken. but where.-Mr. if he could. The delightful assurance of her total indifference towards Frank Churchill. He had. as in this case. and it would be a reproach to her for ever. no view at all. in reprobating any such alliance for him.-The affection. that. Knightley was so obliging as to put up with it. old as the arrival.-What did she say?--Just what she ought.--The superior hopes which gradually opened were so much the more enchanting.

and such happiness moreover as she believed must still be greater when the flutter should have passed away. and jealous of Frank Churchill. He would save himself from witnessing again such permitted. Isabella was too much like Emma--differing only in those striking inferiorities.--He had been in love with Emma. and observed the same beautiful effect of the western sun!--But never in such a state of spirits.-He heard her declare that she had never loved him.--He had gone to learn to be indifferent.--The Box Hill party had decided him on going away.or even the expectation. bore the discovery. Woodhouse little suspected what was plotting against him in the breast of that man whom he was so cordially welcoming.--She was his own Emma. which he did not scruple to feel. by hand and word.--He had stayed on. and it was with difficulty that she could summon enough of her usual self to be the attentive lady of the house. so much keen anxiety for her. Frank Churchill's character was not desperate. never in any thing like it. from about the same period. with the gladness which must be felt. Poor Mr. that he could stay no longer. It was his jealousy of Frank Churchill that had taken him from the country. which always brought the other in brilliancy before him. having never believed Frank Churchill to be at all deserving Emma. nay. and so . day after day--till this very morning's post had conveyed the history of Jane Fairfax. There was too much domestic happiness in his brother's house. They sat down to tea--the same party round the same table-how often it had been collected!--and how often had her eyes fallen on the same shrubs in the lawn. for much to have been done. or even the attentive daughter. even had his time been longer. and if he could have thought of Frank Churchill then. Volume Three Chapter Fourteen What totally different feelings did Emma take back into the house from what she had brought out!--she had then been only daring to hope for a little respite of suffering. when they returned into the house. to see how this sweetest and best of all creatures.--Then. faultless in spite of all her faults. vigorously. and had walked up directly after dinner.--she was now in an exquisite flutter of happiness. encouraged attentions.-But he had gone to a wrong place. however. He had found her agitated and low. one sentiment having probably enlightened him as to the other.--Frank Churchill was a villain. woman wore too amiable a form in it. of Frank Churchill. He had ridden home through the rain. was there so much fond solicitude. he might have deemed him a very good sort of fellow.

by the streets. and wrote her letter to Harriet. She could not be alone without feeling the full weight of their separate claims. Her father--and Harriet. She hardly knew yet what Mr. her perplexity and distress were very great-and her mind had to pass again and again through every bitter reproach and sorrowful regret that had ever surrounded it. and how to guard the comfort of both to the utmost. in walking up to Hartfield to breakfast. that she would still avoid a meeting with her. and a few weeks spent in London must give her some amusement. an averting of the evil day. it might become an increase of comfort to him.-At any rate. As long as Mr. totally unsuspicious of what they could have told him in return. did not arrive at all too soon. While he lived. the shops. without the slightest perception of any thing extraordinary in the looks or ways of either. so nearly sad. and the children.-She could only resolve at last. how to make her any possible atonement. Emma's fever continued. and--indulging in one scheme more-nearly resolve. She rose early. she found one or two such very serious points to consider. Knightley. how to appear least her enemy?-On these subjects. but without the most distant imagination of the impending evil.-She did not think it in Harriet's nature to escape being benefited by novelty and variety. that it would be inexpressibly desirable to have her removed just now for a time from Highbury. was the question. she began to be a little tranquillised and subdued--and in the course of the sleepless night. when they must all be together again. he would have cared very little for the lungs. . as a sin of thought. but a very short parley with her own heart produced the most solemn resolution of never quitting her father.--Could he have seen the heart. was of more difficult decision. that if divested of the danger of drawing her away.--Isabella had been pleased with Harriet. that it might be practicable to get an invitation for her to Brunswick Square. With respect to her father. but she flattered herself. and talked on with much self-contentment.-How to do her best by Harriet. that even her happiness must have some alloy. Knightley would ask. an employment which left her so very serious. and communicate all that need be told by letter. he repeated to them very comfortably all the articles of news he had received from Mr.anxiously hoping might not have taken cold from his ride. as made her feel.-how to spare her from any unnecessary pain. which was the tax for such an evening. it was a question soon answered. Knightley remained with them. Perry.--She even wept over the idea of it. that Mr. a separation for the present. it must be only an engagement. it would be a proof of attention and kindness in herself. from whom every thing was due. but when he was gone.

in forwarding to you the enclosed. my dear Emma. when a letter was brought her from Randalls--a very thick letter. but had the comfort of hearing last night. by Mr. I have already met with such success in two applications for pardon. Weston.-She was now in perfect charity with Frank Churchill. but it was an ungenial morning. I think every body feels a north-east wind.and half an hour stolen afterwards to go over the same ground again with him. was quite necessary to reinstate her in a proper share of the happiness of the evening before. she wanted only to have her thoughts to herself-and as for understanding any thing he wrote. but expected or not. it was too surely so. and I believe there will be need of even all your goodness to allow for some parts of my past conduct. she was sure she was incapable of it.--We are quite well.--she guessed what it must contain. that it had not made him ill. He had not left her long. and have scarcely a doubt of its happy effect.--I think we shall never materially disagree about the writer again. MY DEAR MADAM. that I may be in danger of thinking myself too sure of yours.--You must all endeavour to comprehend the exact nature of my situation when I first arrived at Randalls. "Yours ever. this letter will be expected. Weston. however.--a note from Mrs." [To Mrs. and of those among your friends who have had any ground of offence.] WINDSOR-JULY.-I felt for your dear father very much in the storm of Tuesday afternoon and yesterday morning. Perry. ushered in the letter from Frank to Mrs.--It must be waded through.--I did not quite like your looks on Tuesday. "A. literally and figuratively. W. My courage rises while I write. I know what thorough justice you will do it. but I will not delay you by a long preface. and deprecated the necessity of reading it. "I have the greatest pleasure. She opened the packet. "If I made myself intelligible yesterday. by no means long enough for her to have the slightest inclination for thinking of any body else. she wanted no explanations.-This letter has been the cure of all the little nervousness I have been feeling lately.-But I have been forgiven by one who had still more to resent. It is very difficult for the prosperous to be humble. I know it will be read with candour and indulgence. and though you will never own being affected by weather. Weston to herself.-You are all goodness. you must consider me as having a secret which was to be kept .

-In order to assist a concealment so essential to me. that had I not been convinced of her indifference.--and here I am conscious of wrong. my dear madam.-Amiable and delightful as Miss Woodhouse is. This was the fact. excepting on one point. I dared not address her openly. I believe. I refer every caviller to a brick house. and the warmest friendship. more than it ought. circumstance.--She received my attentions with an easy. and as you were the person slighted. I would not have been induced by any selfish views to go on.--My behaviour to Miss Woodhouse indicated. slow effects. If you need farther explanation. and casements above. My right to place myself in a situation requiring such concealment.-A few words which dropped from him yesterday spoke his opinion. by reminding him. before we parted at Weymouth. I should have gone mad. my father perhaps will think I ought to add. I was led on to make more than an allowable use of the sort of intimacy into which we were immediately thrown. the only important part of my conduct while belonging to you. health and sickness. You will look back and see that I did not come till Miss Fairfax was in Highbury. was as much my conviction as my wish. my difficulties in the then state of Enscombe must be too well known to require definition. which excites my own anxiety. and to induce the most upright female mind in the creation to stoop in charity to a secret engagement. what was your hope in doing this?--What did you look forward to?-To any thing. you will forgive me instantly. in obtaining her promises of faith and correspondence. and I was fortunate enough to prevail.--But you will be ready to say. is another question. I hope. so long I lost the blessing of knowing you. . and that she was perfectly free from any tendency to being attached to me. in Highbury. but I must work on my father's compassion. sashed windows below. then.--See me.at all hazards. sudden bursts. perseverance and weariness. lay me open to reprehension.--I cannot deny that Miss Woodhouse was my ostensible object--but I am sure you will believe the declaration. every thing--to time. or requires very solicitous explanation. and the first of blessings secured. which no inheritance of houses or lands can ever equal the value of. that so long as I absented myself from his house. during the very happy fortnight which I spent with you. with the deepest humiliation. for that visit might have been sooner paid. and some censure I acknowledge myself liable to. and the advantage of inheriting a disposition to hope for good. I have the honour. With the greatest respect. My behaviour. she never gave me the idea of a young woman likely to be attached. chance.-Had she refused. arriving on my first visit to Randalls. For my temptation to think it a right. of being your husband's son. do I mention Miss Woodhouse. Every possibility of good was before me. And now I come to the principal. under these circumstances. I shall not discuss it here. did not.

at least in some degree. Remember how few minutes I was at Randalls. and were felt to be so. goodhumoured playfulness. Let me hear from you without delay.-I hope this history of my conduct towards her will be admitted by you and my father as great extenuation of what you saw amiss. who would never have allowed me to send it. I know you will soon call on her.--Since I began this letter. and my uncle's generosity. but as she never complains. my dear madam. When I think of the kindness and favour I have met with. She must tell you herself what she is-yet not by word. While you considered me as having sinned against Emma Woodhouse. I have heard from her. but I have no doubt of her having since detected me. of her excellence and patience. and how little I deserve to be forgiven. Elton gratitude for her attentions to Miss Fairfax. as to long to have her as deeply and as happily in love as myself.--Whether Miss Woodhouse began really to understand me before the expiration of that fortnight. If you remember any queernesses.-The delicacy of her mind throughout the whole engagement. I cannot say.friendly. is much beyond my power of doing justice to. know her thoroughly yourself. set them all to the right account. Perhaps it is paid already. My heart was in Highbury. .-She may not have surmised the whole. I remember her telling me at the ball. We seemed to understand each other. I cannot doubt it. the acquittal and good wishes of that said Emma Woodhouse. those attentions were her due. From our relative situation. which will be longer than I foresaw. She frequently gave me hints of it.-Whatever strange things I said or did during that fortnight. but her quickness must have penetrated a part. I am mad with joy: but when I recollect all the uneasiness I occasioned her. she is living in dread of the visit. that its being ordered was absolutely unknown to Miss F--.-Of the pianoforte so much talked of. I dare not depend. that it did not take her wholly by surprize. I remember that I was within a moment of confessing the truth. which exactly suited me. whom I regard with so much brotherly affection. I want to have your opinion of her looks. how mad a state: and I am not much better yet. still insane either from happiness or misery. and in how bewildered.-No description can describe her. and my business was to get my body thither as often as might be. and with the least suspicion.--when I called to take leave of her. that I owed Mrs. when it is allowable. and I then fancied she was not without suspicion. had any choice been given her. and procure for me. for never was there a human creature who would so designedly suppress her own merit. I am mad with anger. whenever the subject becomes freed from its present restraints. you have now a key to.-She gives a good account of her own health. You will find. Acquit me here. I could deserve nothing from either. You will soon. I am impatient for a thousand particulars. I feel it only necessary to say. I earnestly hope.

that my manners to Miss W.-Do you remember the morning spent at Donwell?--There every little dissatisfaction that had occurred before came to a crisis. my dear madam. If I had followed her judgment. rational enough to make the rest of my letter what it ought to be. I hope. for though the event of the 26th ult.--It is. but the suddenness. unnecessarily scrupulous and cautious: I thought her even cold. was behaving one hour with objectionable particularity to another woman. in being unpleasant to Miss F. though I might have staid with you till the next morning. I should myself have shrunk from any thing so hasty.. to resent. I was obliged to leave off abruptly. the unseasonableness with which the affair burst out. which ought to have been enough. and subdued my spirits to the level of what she deemed proper.--I must still add to this long letter. to recollect and compose myself. in fact. merely because I would be as angry with her as possible. was she to be consenting the next to a proposal which might have made every previous caution useless?--Had we been met walking together between Donwell and Highbury. as you will conclude. I doubted it more the next day on Box Hill. in one light. I see nothing in it but a very natural and consistent degree of discretion. But she was always right. provoked by such conduct on my side. however. I behaved shamefully. I was late. I could not give any connected detail yesterday. Even then. but from the very particular circumstances. to blind the world to our engagement. which left me not an hour to lose. but she would not suffer it.-In short. You have not heard all that you ought to hear. While I.--My plea of concealing the truth she did not think sufficient. I thought unreasonably so: I thought her. needs explanation.--I doubted her affection. were highly blameable. the truth must have been suspected. on a thousand occasions. however.--She was displeased. immediately opened to me the happiest prospects. as it would have been impossible for any woman of sense to endure.-But I had no choice. such shameful. And here I can admit. and she would have felt every scruple of mine with multiplied strength and refinement. I met her walking home by herself. insolent neglect of her. She absolutely refused to allow me. and am now. it was a quarrel blameless on her side.. my dear madam.-I was mad enough. and such apparent devotion to Miss W. My uncle has been too good for me to encroach.--We quarrelled. abominable on mine. a most mortifying retrospect for me. she spoke her resentment in a form of words perfectly intelligible to me. She disapproved them. . Now. which I then thought most unreasonable. I should have escaped the greatest unhappiness I have ever known. and. I should not have presumed on such early measures. when.--I have been walking over the country.If I could but see her again!--But I must not propose it yet.. The hasty engagement she had entered into with that woman--Here. and I returned the same evening to Richmond.. and wanted to walk with her.

and instantly saw what she had been doing. near Bristol. and--may I add?-too cheerful in my views to be captious.--I was rather disappointed that I did not hear from her again speedily. trusting that I had written enough. though but a few lines.-She felt the engagement to be a source of repentance and misery to each: she dissolved it. but. injured by her coldness. I shall soon have done. that as silence on such a point could not be misconstrued. to satisfy her. by the bye. then. the full direction to Mr. instead of being sent with all the many other letters of that day. Smallridge's. she closed with the offer of that officious Mrs. but I made excuses for her. the place. was equally descriptive . and wrote the next day to tell me that we never were to meet again. by a safe conveyance." indeed!--You will observe that I have not yet indulged myself in calling her by that name. my own letters all returned!--and a few lines at the same time by the post.--I shall always congratulate myself that you were not of the Box Hill party. stared me in the face. she now sent me. I must not quarrel with a spirit of forbearance which has been so richly extended towards myself. It was perfectly accordant with that resolution of character which I knew her to possess. my answer. and was too busy. otherwise. and two days afterwards I received a parcel from her. I would forward them after that period to her at--: in short. and as it must be equally desirable to both to have every subordinate arrangement concluded as soon as possible. I knew the name. even to you. but I was the injured person. remained without any uneasiness. Elton. stating her extreme surprize at not having had the smallest reply to her last. and the multiplicity of business falling on me at once. Have patience with me. Think. and all the insolence of imaginary superiority.I was not such a fool as not to mean to be reconciled in time. I answered it within an hour. and I.--We removed to Windsor. that if I could not directly command hers. Its effect upon her appears in the immediate resolution it produced: as soon as she found I was really gone from Randalls.-She closed with this offer. resolving to break with me entirely. the whole system of whose treatment of her.-"Jane. all my letters. Had you witnessed my behaviour there. I can hardly suppose you would ever have thought well of me again. and I went away determined that she should make the first advances. I should loudly protest against the share of it which that woman has known. has ever filled me with indignation and hatred.--This letter reached me on the very morning of my poor aunt's death. was locked up in my writing-desk. what I must have endured in hearing it bandied between the Eltons with all the vulgarity of needless repetition. so as to send them to Highbury within a week. I knew all about it. but from the confusion of my mind. and adding. and requested. and the secrecy she had maintained. as to any such design in her former letter.

and ten thousand for the attentions your heart will dictate towards her.--Are you disposed to pity me for what I must have suffered in opening the cause to him. Weston. Do not pity me till I saw her wan.--I felt that it would be of a different sort. WESTON CHURCHILL.--I was not disappointed. I will release you. every line relating to herself was interesting. yet he had been less wrong than she had supposed--and he had suffered. and though it was impossible not to feel that he had been wrong.--Miss W. C.of its anxious delicacy. my good fortune is undoubted. that of being able to subscribe myself. wholly reconciled and complying. I hope she is right. than ever. Without his sanction I could not hope to be listened to again.--Imagine the shock. and at last I was not disappointed either in the object of my journey. we are reconciled. in spite of her previous determination to the contrary. and no moment's uneasiness can ever occur between us again. much dearer. and could say at last. calls me the child of good fortune. I raved at the blunders of the post. Volume Three Chapter Fifteen This letter must make its way to Emma's feelings. For the world would not she have seemed to threaten me. and almost every line agreeable.--In one respect. As soon as she came to her own name. She never stopt till she had gone through the whole. from my knowledge of their late breakfast hour. I am quite of your opinion. and he was. dearer. it was irresistible.--I reached Highbury at the time of day when. sick looks. F. She was obliged. circumstances were in my favour. poor man! with a deep sigh. my dear madam. Your obliged and affectionate Son. and so much in love with Miss Fairfax. till I had actually detected my own blunder. A great deal of very reasonable. for my suspense while all was at stake?--No. but I could not conclude before. and when this charm ceased. to do it all the justice that Mrs. Now. very just displeasure I had to persuade away. and the very strong attraction which any picture of love must have for her at that moment. I was certain of a good chance of finding her alone. that he wished I might find as much happiness in the marriage state as he had done. and she was so happy herself. do not pity me till I reached Highbury.-I spoke.-What was to be done?--One thing only. and was very sorry--and he was so grateful to Mrs. by the natural return of her former regard for the writer. But it is done. and saw how ill I had made her.--I must speak to my uncle. the subject could still maintain itself. A thousand and a thousand thanks for all the kindness you have ever shewn me. imagine how. earlier than I could have anticipated. . the late event had softened away his pride. Weston foretold.--If you think me in a way to be happier than I deserve.

however. however. "He trifles here. "how sure you were that he might have come sooner if he would." He began--stopping. "I would rather be talking to you. Weston's wishing it to be communicated. "to speak my opinion aloud as I read." Mr. it would not have been taken with such indifference.--`His father's disposition:'-he is unjust. "as to the temptation. especially to one. who. Knightley came again. One man's style must not be the rule of another's." . and could he have entered the room. I should wish it. he did not come till Miss Fairfax was here.that there was no being severe. but Mr. observed. He knows he is wrong. reading to himself." said he. almost directly to say. "I shall be very glad to look it over. had seen so much to blame in his conduct." said Emma." said he." he added shortly afterwards." But that would not do. Emma.--Bad. and has nothing rational to urge. Mr. and then. and she must return it by him. Knightley. She was sure of Mrs. By doing it. Weston's sanguine temper was a blessing on all his upright and honourable exertions. Knightley returned to his reading with greater alacrity.--He ought not to have formed the engagement. You pass it over very handsomely-but you were perfectly right. with a smile. to his father. I will take it home with me at night. I shall feel that I am near you." He proceeded a little farther." he replied. it shall be done.--Very true. "but as it seems a matter of justice. she desired him to read it. that when Mr. "Had I been offered the sight of one of this gentleman's letters to his mother-in-law a few months ago. Weston earned every present comfort before he endeavoured to gain it." "And I have not forgotten. "Humph! a fine complimentary opening: But it is his way." "It will be natural for me. We will not be severe. she must have shaken hands with him as heartily as ever. "but it seems long. She thought so well of the letter. like Mr. Weston was to call in the evening. Mr. It will not be so great a loss of time: but if you dislike it--" "Not at all.

A boyish scheme. and with a blush of sensibility on Harriet's account. "You had better go on."I was not quite impartial in my judgment. seriously. a shake of the head. in carrying on the correspondence. a look. he made a fuller pause to say. a word or two of assent. after steady reflection. for his sake. "You did behave very shamefully. "the pianoforte! Ah! That was the act of a very.-No judge of his own manners by you. however. as the subject required. and it should have been his first object to prevent her from suffering unnecessarily. Frank Churchill's confession of having behaved shamefully was the first thing to call for more than a word in passing." When he came to Miss Woodhouse. You never wrote a truer line. or merely of love. "This is very bad. thus-"Very bad--though it might have been worse. I think-had you not been in the case--I should still have distrusted him. He should have . concluding. and.--Playing a most dangerous game. one too young to consider whether the inconvenience of it might not very much exceed the pleasure. "I perfectly agree with you. and his persisting to act in direct opposition to Jane Fairfax's sense of right. very young man.-Fancying you to have fathomed his secret." And having gone through what immediately followed of the basis of their disagreement. and he did know that she would have prevented the instrument's coming if she could. that he should suspect it in others. sir. Natural enough!-his own mind full of intrigue. Too much indebted to the event for his acquittal. does not every thing serve to prove more and more the beauty of truth and sincerity in all our dealings with each other?" Emma agreed to it. but very soon stopt again to say.--Mystery. Emma:--but yet. he was obliged to read the whole of it aloud--all that related to her."--was then his remark." After this. indeed!--I cannot comprehend a man's wishing to give a woman any proof of affection which he knows she would rather dispense with. in a situation of extreme difficulty and uneasiness. Finesse--how they pervert the understanding! My Emma. which she could not give any sincere explanation of. and regardless of little besides his own convenience. he made some progress without any pause. He did so.--Always deceived in fact by his own wishes." said she.--She must have had much more to contend with. with a smile. than he could.--He had induced her to place herself. or disapprobation.

and resuming the letter. I shall soon have done. and grew uncomfortable. `Miss Woodhouse calls me the child of good fortune. We must look to her one fault.' Come." was his next observation. my dear Emma. Elton's--a neighbour of Maple Grove. much dearer than ever. excepting one momentary glance at her. there is feeling here." "I hope he does. he must be a most extraordinary--" "Nay. by the bye. were they?-And a fine ending--and there is the letter. Elton bears the disappointment?" "Say nothing. to bear that she should have been in such a state of punishment. with his thousands and tens of thousands.--You will find how very much he suffers. in the fear of giving pain--no remembrance of Box Hill seemed to exist. Her own behaviour had been so very improper! She was deeply ashamed." "Well. read on.--What a view this gives of her sense of his behaviour!--Well. nay.--He does seem to have suffered in finding her ill. while you oblige me to read--not even of Mrs.--"His feelings are natural. I wonder how Mrs. had there been such. was it?" . he knows himself there.-What! actually resolve to break with him entirely!--She felt the engagement to be a source of repentance and misery to each-she dissolved it. and remember that she had done a wrong thing in consenting to the engagement.respected even unreasonable scruples. I can have no doubt of his being fond of her." replied Mr.--He is a very liberal thanker.--Certainly. attentively. Elton. but hers were all reasonable. steadily. The child of good fortune! That was your name for him. "`Smallridge!'--What does this mean? What is all this?" "She had engaged to go as governess to Mrs. and.--`Happier than I deserve.'--Those were Miss Woodhouse's words. Smallridge's children-a dear friend of Mrs. Only one page more. What a letter the man writes!" "I wish you would read it with a kinder spirit towards him. `Dearer. however.' I hope he may long continue to feel all the value of such a reconciliation. Knightley coolly. "There is no saying much for the delicacy of our good friends. and. and a little afraid of his next look. instantly withdrawn. the Eltons. and without the smallest remark. It was all read." Emma knew that he was now getting to the Box Hill party.

that such a transplantation would be a risk of her father's comfort. The impossibility of her quitting her father. it may be hoped. and now he confessed his persuasion. I hope it does him some service with you. I have another person's interest at present so much at heart. Ever since I left you this morning. he must be sacrificing a great deal of independence of hours and habits. and I am very much of his opinion in thinking him likely to be happier than he deserves: but still as he is. and will soon. And now. Mr. he trusted his dearest Emma would not find in any respect objectionable. think the better of him for it. however. he had wanted to believe it feasible. my mind has been hard at work on one subject. But the plan which had arisen on the sacrifice of this. certainly it does. at least I hope you must. She felt that. most intently. I am very ready to believe his character will improve. in quitting Donwell. gentlemanlike English. Mr. faults of inconsideration and thoughtlessness. it was. she had tried the scheme and rejected it. how to be able to ask her to marry him." Part only of this answer. have the advantage of being constantly with her. but his knowledge of Mr. he could not agree to." The subject followed."You do not appear so well satisfied with his letter as I am. but such an alternative as this had not occurred to her. that I cannot think any longer about Frank Churchill. such as Mr. Emma had already had her own passing thoughts. which must not be hazarded. She was sensible of all the affection it evinced. he felt that it ought not to be attempted. She could never quit him. "While her dear father lived. He has had great faults. and acquire from hers the steadiness and delicacy of principle that it wants. that he should be received at Hartfield. unaffected. he had at first hoped to induce Mr. it should be his likewise. it was in plain. very much. Emma. Knightley used even to the woman he was in love with. Woodhouse would not suffer him to deceive himself long. really attached to Miss Fairfax. Of their all removing to Donwell. Knightley felt as strongly as herself. without attacking the happiness of her father. but the inadmissibility of any other change. that in living constantly with her father. was admitted. and in no house of his own. perhaps even of his life. Emma's answer was ready at the first word. let me talk to you of something else. there would be much." "Yes. . Like him. Woodhouse to remove with her to Donwell. He had been thinking it over most deeply. beyond a doubt. but still you must. any change of condition must be impossible for her. Woodhouse taken from Hartfield!--No. that so long as her father's happiness in other words his life--required Hartfield to continue her home.

in mere charitable caution. supplanted. Emma could not deplore her future absence as any deduction from her own enjoyment. that no reflection could alter his wishes or his opinion on the subject. and found amusement in detecting the real cause of that violent dislike of Mr. and pretty nearly promised. of course. . She would be a loser in every way. her own advantages to increase. She promised to think of it. but he was fully convinced. but for the poor girl herself. Knightley's marrying Jane Fairfax. In such a party. His evils seemed to lessen." cried Emma. Harriet would be rather a dead weight than otherwise. Such a companion for herself in the periods of anxiety and cheerlessness before her!-Such a partner in all those duties and cares to which time must be giving increase of melancholy! She would have been too happy but for poor Harriet. this plan of marrying and continuing at Hartfield-the more she contemplated it. poor Harriet must. Knightley would be forgotten. their mutual good to outweigh every drawback. was never struck with any sense of injury to her nephew Henry. who must now be even excluded from Hartfield. the more pleasing it became. or any body else. which at the time she had wholly imputed to the amiable solicitude of the sister and the aunt." She promised. points of view in which she was now beginning to consider Donwell Abbey. The delightful family party which Emma was securing for herself. with the intention of finding it a very good scheme. You must get his consent before you ask mine. however. that is. This proposal of his. and yet she only gave herself a saucy conscious smile about it. to have his thoughts to himself. to think of it.to be borne with. that Emma. whose rights as heir-expectant had formerly been so tenaciously regarded. be kept at a distance from. very many. Mr. but this could not be expected to happen very early. "Ah! there is one difficulty unprovided for. and advised him to think of it more. he had been walking away from William Larkins the whole morning. in the many. In time. but every blessing of her own seemed to involve and advance the sufferings of her friend. moreover. Think she must of the possible difference to the poor little boy. it seemed a peculiarly cruel necessity that was to be placing her in such a state of unmerited punishment. It is remarkable. "I am sure William Larkins will not like it. to think of it. He had given it. very long and calm consideration. he could assure her.

to consult a dentist. would never deserve to be less worshipped than now.Mr. and Harriet was safe in Brunswick Square. which increased the desirableness of their being separate. Emma proposed it to her friend. Volume Three Chapter Sixteen It was a very great relief to Emma to find Harriet as desirous as herself to avoid a meeting. or apparent sense of ill-usage. and had wished some time. she was invited for at least a fortnight. it was all completed. which must be averting the past. Goddard's. any thing of ill health was a recommendation to her--and though not so fond of a dentist as of a Mr. Mrs. that she could be in love with more than three men in one year. indeed. John Knightley was delighted to be of use.-not like Mr. and at a little distance. Knightley himself would be doing nothing to assist the cure.--It was all arranged. so truly considerate for every body. which had haunted her when remembering how disappointed a heart was near her. Knightley. Knightley's visits. and she could listen with true happiness. enjoy Mr. how much might at that moment. of something most painful.-Harriet was to go. She had no difficulty in procuring Isabella's invitation. she was quite eager to have Harriet under her care. so feeling.-It might be only her own consciousness. Wingfield. Elton. or in London. Harriet really wished. now she could talk. unchecked by that sense of injustice. and carrying her out of herself. How much worse.--There was a tooth amiss. had they been obliged to meet! Harriet expressed herself very much as might be supposed. she was to be conveyed in Mr. There was a communication . but it seemed as if an angel only could have been quite without resentment under such a stroke. Woodhouse's carriage. always so kind. and she was fortunate in having a sufficient reason for asking it. be enduring by the feelings which she had led astray herself. and found her very persuadable. without resorting to invention. Their intercourse was painful enough by letter. without reproaches. She would not allow any other anxiety to succeed directly to the place in her mind which Harriet had occupied. of guilt. Now Emma could. a something bordering on it in her style. and yet Emma fancied there was a something of resentment.--When it was thus settled on her sister's side. The difference of Harriet at Mrs. made perhaps an unreasonable difference in Emma's sensations. Mr. and it really was too much to hope even of Harriet. but she could not think of her in London without objects of curiosity and employment.

and said. "Beg her to walk up.-She came forward with an offered hand.--She had resolved to defer the disclosure till Mrs. as if no other reception of her were felt sufficient. delight. one which she only could be competent to make-the confession of her engagement to her father. it is impossible for me to express--I hope you will believe--Excuse me for being so entirely without words. of leisure and peace of mind. but very feeling tone. though all the worst of her sufferings had been unsuspected. in a low. and warmth. if the sound of Mrs. which accounted for the previous tranquillity. She went--she had driven once unsuccessfully to the door. should be hers. she heard nothing but the instant reply of.--No. when poor Jane had been in such distress as had filled her with compassion. She soon resolved. Emma could have . Mrs. Weston were safe and well. Elton were together. to employ half an hour of this holiday of spirits in calling on Miss Fairfax.-The fear of being still unwelcome. and would soon have shewn no want of words. and send up her name. at least. indeed!--Miss Woodhouse. but the consciousness of a similarity of prospect would certainly add to the interest with which she should attend to any thing Jane might communicate. the resemblance of their present situations increasing every other motive of goodwill. but had not been into the house since the morning after Box Hill. very earnest shake of the hand.-She heard Patty announcing it.-Emma had never seen her look so well. Elton's voice from the sitting-room had not checked her. coming eagerly forward. though assured of their being at home. but no such bustle succeeded as poor Miss Bates had before made so happily intelligible. so engaging. there was every thing which her countenance or manner could ever have wanted. Miss Bates was out. No additional agitation should be thrown at this period among those she loved-and the evil should not act on herself by anticipation before the appointed time.--A fortnight." Emma was gratified. There was consciousness. It would be a secret satisfaction. to crown every warmer.-She ought to go--and she was longing to see her. determined her. to wait in the passage. and made it expedient to compress all her friendly and all her congratulatory sensations into a very. "This is most kind."--and a moment afterwards she was met on the stairs by Jane herself. equally as a duty and a pleasure. Bates and Mrs. so lovely.before her. animation. but she would have nothing to do with it at present. but more agitating.

like herself. Emma saw symptoms of it immediately in the expression of her face. Miss Woodhouse. in our case. and as Mrs. "Do not you think. you have heard all the essential already. Bates. She soon believed herself to penetrate Mrs. and is not offended. she saw her with a sort of anxious parade of mystery fold up a letter which she had apparently been reading aloud to Miss Fairfax. Elton elsewhere. Bates's knitting. she found herself abruptly addressed with. Weston. it was being in Miss Fairfax's confidence.--But not a word more. you see. in happy spirits. You see how delightfully she writes. S. You and I shall not want opportunities. I only wanted to prove to you that Mrs.) . but she was in a humour to have patience with every body. had you gone. she added.--My representation. and fancying herself acquainted with what was still a secret to other people.--Hush!--You remember those lines-I forget the poem at this moment: "For when a lady's in the case. on Emma's merely turning her head to look at Mrs. you know. she hoped the rencontre would do them no harm. with significant nods. saying. repeated on every possible occasion. I managed it extremely well. our saucy little friend here is charmingly recovered?--Do not you think her cure does Perry the highest credit?--(here was a side-glance of great meaning at Jane. in fact.--I am in a fine flow of spirits. It was a palpable display. Elton's thoughts." Emma could not doubt. and understand why she was. an't I? But I want to set your heart at ease as to Mrs. my dear. Let us be discreet-quite on our good behaviour. read----mum! a word to the wise. and while paying her own compliments to Mrs." Now I say. Oh! she is a sweet creature! You would have doated on her. When they had all talked a little while in harmony of the weather and Mrs. you will observe. "You know all other things give place. cautious as a minister of state.wished Mrs." And again.--Oh! no. And. "I mentioned no names. Elton met her with unusual graciousness. "We can finish this some other time. and return it into the purple and gold reticule by her side. for lady. and appearing to attend to the good old lady's replies. S. admits our apology. in a half whisper. has quite appeased her.

He promised to join me here.-Such a happy little circle as you find us here. Bates was saying something to Emma. "We do not say a word of any assistance that Perry might have. speaking louder. said.-After a few whispers.--So it appeared to me at least. "Thank you. Elton?-That will be a favour indeed! for I know gentlemen do not like morning visits. and exploring to Box Hill again. which was now graciously overcome." Soon after this Miss Bates came in. But yet I think there was something wanting. and here I have been so long. "Yes. whispered farther. the truth is." she shortly afterwards began. that I am waiting for my lord and master. and impatience to say every thing. Woodhouse?--I am so glad. What say you both to our collecting the same party. I think it answered so far as to tempt one to go again. I quite understand--dearest Jane's prospects-that is. and Emma could not help being diverted by the perplexity of her first answer to herself. you are all kindness. "since the party to Box Hill. there seemed a little cloud upon the spirits of some.--Quite out of my power. you know. quite the same party. indeed. here I am. Elton's time is so engaged. that anywhere else I should think it necessary to apologise. on some pretence . However. I mean good Mr. and pay his respects to you. Things did not seem--that is. but I might be mistaken.--It is impossible to say--Yes. indeed. her more than commonly thankful delight towards Mrs. and Mr.--But she is charmingly recovered. Emma guessed that there had been a little show of resentment towards Jane. from doubt of what might be said.--There is no end of people's coming to him. Elton. while the fine weather lasts?-It must be the same party. not a word of a certain young physician from Windsor. dear Miss Woodhouse." "What! are we to have the pleasure of a call from Mr. Perry has restored her in a wonderful short time!-Oh! if you had seen her. not one exception.--He really is engaged from morning to night. as I did. Very pleasant party. but. Miss Bates." "I have scarce had the pleasure of seeing you. indeed.--Yes. Miss Woodhouse. she supposed.Upon my word. resulting. which placed it beyond a guess. Mrs. I do not mean.-How is Mr. Perry!-such attention to Jane!"--And from her great. my good friend. when she was at the worst!"-And when Mrs.-Charming young man!--that is--so very friendly. Perry shall have all the credit." "Upon my word it is.--Oh! no. Elton for being there. from the vicarage quarter.

are always wanting his opinion. My liveliness and your solidity . is Knightley's right hand. and spoke of it as for Saturday.--I believe I have not played a bar this fortnight. and overseers. I do not know. so happily!-"He promised to come to me as soon as he could disengage himself from Knightley. the meeting is certainly to-day." "Have not you mistaken the day?" said Emma.-I do not know what would become of my crayons and my instrument. `rather you than I.or other.-"I do believe. but one is apt to speak only of those who lead.--Mr. for I absolutely neglect them both to an unpardonable degree.--Mr. you know. Elton gone on foot to Donwell?--He will have a hot walk. E. Jane." "Oh! no. if we could be shaken together. quite indispensable. They seem not able to do any thing without him. that's very true. which denoted the impossibility of any blunder on Mrs. Elton's side. "Upon my word.--However.. it is a meeting at the Crown." "But it is proved by the smallness of the school. if I had half so many applicants. as under the patronage of your sister and Mrs. which I have heard you speak of. but he and Knightley are shut up together in deep consultation. We never heard of such things at Maple Grove. and not more than five-and-twenty children." "Oh! no." was the abrupt answer." And putting up her hand to screen her words from Emma--"A congratulatory visit. indeed. for I never heard the subject talked of." she continued. Bragge." "Ah! you clever creature. I assure you: yes. E. E. the only school." said Jane. and Knightley have every thing their own way.'--Bad enough as it is.--`Upon my word. my dear. a regular meeting. what a perfect character you and I should make. on purpose to wait on you all. What a thinking brain you have! I say.' I often say. Knightley was at Hartfield yesterday." Emma would not have smiled for the world. he is coming. and churchwardens. "this is the most troublesome parish that ever was.--Oh! yes. "I am almost certain that the meeting at the Crown is not till to-morrow. Weston and Cole will be there too. "Is Mr. and only said.--The magistrates." "Your parish there was small. Mr." Miss Bates looked about her.--I fancy Mr.

this is not like our friend Knightley!--Can you explain it?" Emma amused herself by protesting that it was very extraordinary. "Knightley could not be found. Mr." "Donwell!" cried his wife. "When I got to Donwell. His civilities to the other ladies must be paid. The housekeeper declared she knew nothing of my being expected. . indeed.-Very extraordinary!--And nobody knew at all which way he was gone. no message for me." "No. perhaps to the Abbey Mill. that some people may not think you perfection already. Elton made his appearance. Jane was wanting to give her words. no." It seemed an unnecessary caution. however.--Not that I presume to insinuate. but to Miss Woodhouse. And then not to find him at home! I assure you I am not at all pleased. and the message he returned. The wish of distinguishing her. "Very pretty. His lady greeted him with some of her sparkling vivacity.--"My dear Mr. and the walk he had had for nothing. as far as civility permitted. sir. and I particularly wanted to see Knightley to-day on that very account.would produce perfection. to be an encumbrance to my friends. you come from the meeting at the Crown. as the latter plainly saw. And no apology left. upon my word. Perhaps to Hartfield. Very odd! very unaccountable! after the note I sent him this morning. and that she had not a syllable to say for him. to send me on here. that's to-morrow.--Such a dreadful broiling morning!-I went over the fields too--(speaking in a tone of great ill-usage. not to Mrs." said he. that all this wit seemed thrown away.-Here have I been sitting this hour. giving these young ladies a sample of true conjugal obedience--for who can say. You knew I should not stir till my lord and master appeared.-Miss Woodhouse.) which made it so much the worse. that he should certainly be at home till one. you know. Elton was so hot and tired. so long before you vouchsafe to come!-But you knew what a dutiful creature you had to deal with. perhaps into his woods. E. Elton. though it could not often proceed beyond a look. was very evident. you have not been to Donwell!--You mean the Crown..--But hush!-not a word. how soon it may be wanted?" Mr. but his subsequent object was to lament over himself for the heat he was suffering. if you please.

of all people in the world! The very last person whom one should expect to be forgotten!--My dear Mr. and never sent it. with a blush and an hesitation which Emma thought infinitely more becoming to her than all the elegance of all her usual composure--"there would have been no danger. to go with her even downstairs. it is particularly . He did not know what was come to his master lately. "as I got near the house. I might have been tempted to introduce a subject. it gave her an opportunity which she immediately made use of. Wright holds her very cheap indeed. but he could hardly ever get the speech of him. Elton. perhaps. Depend upon it. You could not have gratified me more than by expressing an interest--.--I feel that I should certainly have been impertinent. to speak more openly than might have been strictly correct.--William seemed rather out of humour. but it really is of very great importance that I should see Knightley to-day. if not towards William Larkins. Indeed. Hodges.-and his servants forgot it. I have nothing to do with William's wants. who are all. She was pleased. (speaking more collectedly.) "I cannot imagine how he could do such a thing by you." "I met William Larkins. but I did not believe him. of very serious inconvenience that I should have had this hot walk to no purpose. The danger would have been of my wearying you. therefore.. he said. that was the case: and very likely to happen with the Donwell servants." continued Mr. to find Miss Fairfax determined to attend her out of the room. extremely awkward and remiss. And as for Mrs.--She promised Wright a receipt. I am sure he must.--I am sure I would not have such a creature as his Harry stand at our sideboard for any consideration. that I have not had the possibility. In all probability she was at this very time waited for there." "Oh!" cried Jane. on taking leave. (feeling the indignity as a wife ought to do. and he told me I should not find his master at home." said Mrs." Emma felt that she could not do better than go home directly. Knightley might be preserved from sinking deeper in aggression towards Mr. very great misconduct.) with the consciousness which I have of misconduct. he must have left a message for you. to say. Miss Woodhouse. Elton. I have often observed. Elton."I cannot imagine. to ask questions. "It is as well. Had you not been surrounded by other friends.--Not even Knightley could be so very eccentric. and it becomes a matter. and Mr. E.

I hope you have pleasant accounts from Windsor?" "Very." "Nothing can be actually settled yet. Let us forgive each other at once. We must do whatever is to be done quickest. I long to make apologies." "Thank you. will be. And I will own to you. smiling--"but. of deep mourning. to urge something for myself. I suppose.consoling to me to know that those of my friends.-So cold and artificial!--I had always a part to act. unfortunately--in short. it has been thought of. that we are to lose you-just as I begin to know you. but I know what my manners were to you. are not disgusted to such a degree as to--I have not time for half that I could wish to say. at least." The smile was returned as Jane answered. I feel that all the apologies should be on my side. I imagine there will be nothing more to wait for. whose good opinion is most worth preserving. but when they are over. and taking her hand. (I am sure it will be safe)." "And the next news. I am here till claimed by Colonel and Mrs. Churchill at Enscombe. and every body to whom you might be supposed to owe them. if your compassion does not stand my friend--" "Oh! you are too scrupulous. is so perfectly satisfied. excuse me.-Oh! if you knew how much I love every thing that is decided and open!-Good-bye." replied Emma." "Pray say no more. indeed you are. so delighted even--" "You are very kind. thank you.--It was a life of deceit!--I know that I must have disgusted you. perhaps. that so far as our living with Mr. it is settled. excuses. it must be thought of. I feel it so very due. and I think our feelings will lose no time there." cried Emma warmly." "Oh! as to all that." Volume Three Chapter Seventeen . Campbell. There must be three months.--This is just what I wanted to be assured of. But. of course nothing can be thought of yet. "You are very right. good-bye. "You owe me no apologies.

" . and it would be quite a pity that any one who so well knew how to teach. The good was all to myself. but she was convinced that a daughter would suit both father and mother best. it was by knowing her to be the mother of a little girl. with either of Isabella's sons. She had been decided in wishing for a Miss Weston. of practising on me. who am owing all my happiness to you." she continued--"like La Baronne d'Almane on La Comtesse d'Ostalis. It would be a great comfort to Mr. and we shall now see her own little Adelaide educated on a more perfect plan. I. "at that rate. "she will indulge her even more than she did you.Mrs. My interference was quite as likely to do harm as good." "That is. by making you an object of the tenderest affection to me. what right has he to lecture me?-and I am afraid very natural for you to feel that it was done in a disagreeable manner. the freaks and the fancies of a child never banished from home." replied Mr. I could not think about you so much without doating on you. my dearest Emma. She would not acknowledge that it was with any view of making a match for her. you know. You must have done well. Nature gave you understanding:-Miss Taylor gave you principles. what will become of her?" "Nothing very bad." "Do you?--I have no doubt. in Madame de Genlis' Adelaide and Theodore. and replied: "But I had the assistance of all your endeavours to counteract the indulgence of other people. Weston's friends were all made happy by her safety." "Poor child!" cried Emma. It was very natural for you to say. would not it be horrible ingratitude in me to be severe on them?" Emma laughed. I doubt whether my own sense would have corrected me without it. Weston might be growing older ten years hence--to have his fireside enlivened by the sports and the nonsense. It will be the only difference. I do not believe I did you any good. should not have their powers in exercise again. She will be disagreeable in infancy. and if the satisfaction of her well-doing could be increased to Emma.--The fate of thousands. as he grew older-and even Mr. have been in love with you ever since you were thirteen at least. and believe that she does not indulge her at all. hereafter. and Mrs. Weston. I am losing all my bitterness against spoilt children. faults and all. Knightley. Weston-no one could doubt that a daughter would be most to her. and by dint of fancying so many errors. and correct herself as she grows older. "She has had the advantage.

but perhaps you may guess where. that. papa says I may.'--You always called me. except falling in love with her when she is thirteen.-Harriet was very seldom mentioned between them.' in one of my amiable fits. I did not approve." cried Emma. with one of your saucy looks--`Mr. Elton. This. it has not so very formal a sound." "`Mr. Knightley. K." "How often." Emma grieved that she could not be more openly just to one important service which his better sense would have rendered her. I did it because I thought it would offend you. from some appearances." she added presently.--But I will promise. but Emma was rather inclined to attribute it to delicacy. on his side. they certainly should have corresponded more. that their friendship were declining. when you were a girl. He might observe that it was so. you knew." "I remember once calling you `George. about ten years ago. I do not say when. for better. to the advice which would have saved her from the worst of all her womanly follies--her wilful intimacy with Harriet Smith. or I have Miss Taylor's leave'--something which.' I will not promise even to equal the elegant terseness of Mrs.--She could not enter on it.' and. I never did it again. takes M. She was aware herself." "What an amiable creature I was!--No wonder you should hold my speeches in such affectionate remembrance. and a suspicion. I am very sure you did me good. I want you to call me something else. laughing and blushing--"I will promise to call you once by your Christian name. The pain . Knightley. Knightley. but. `Mr. might merely proceed from her not being thought of. by calling you Mr.--And yet it is formal. but I do not know what. it will be the greatest humanity in you to do as much for her as you have done for me. In such cases my interference was giving you two bad feelings instead of one. and that her intelligence would not have rested. for worse. on Isabella's letters. Knightley. as you made no objection. as it now almost wholly did. parting under any other circumstances. from habit. I am going to do so-and-so.--in the building in which N. And if poor little Anna Weston is to be spoiled. have you said to me."I am sure you were of use to me." "And cannot you call me `George' now?" "Impossible!--I never can call you any thing but `Mr. "I was very often influenced rightly by you--oftener than I would own at the time. but it was too tender a subject.

was very little inferior to the pain of having made Harriet unhappy. Isabella sent quite as good an account of her visitor as could be expected. was no very quick observer. and Mrs. she did not appear to find Harriet different from what she had known her before. He only means--" "He and I should differ very little in our estimation of the two. "John does not even mention your friend." "Emma. he means no such thing. but that he is not without hope of my growing. as there was a dentist to be consulted. if we could enter without ceremony or reserve on the subject. he is so far from making flourishes." replied Emma. "Here is his answer. but. Emma accepted it with a very eager hand. perhaps." interrupted she." "My Emma. and though I well know him to have." It was the answer to the communication of his intended marriage. Emma's comforts and hopes were most agreeably carried on. that any other young woman might think him rather cool in her praise. with a sort of serious smile--"much less. by Harriet's being to stay longer. I should not have believed him.of being obliged to practise concealment towards him. on her first arrival she had thought her out of spirits. in time. Had he said any thing to bear a different construction. and she was invited to remain till they could bring her back. "I honour his sincerity. her fortnight was likely to be a month at least. "John enters like a brother into my happiness. which appeared perfectly natural. Knightley. to be sure. with an impatience all alive to know what he would say about it. and not at all checked by hearing that her friend was unmentioned. It is very plain that he considers the good fortune of the engagement as all on my side. if you like to see it." said Mr. when she had read the letter. my dear Emma--" . likewise. yet if Harriet had not been equal to playing with the children. it would not have escaped her. Knightley. a most brotherly affection for you. as you think me already. as worthy of your affection. Mr. "but he is no complimenter. since that business had been over. John Knightley were to come down in August." "He writes like a sensible man. than he is aware of. But I am not afraid of your seeing what he writes.-Isabella." continued Mr.

and she must have put it off. to be happy together. he only means so far as your having some thoughts of marrying."Oh!" she cried with more thorough gaiety. that if his consent and approbation could be obtained--which. and then." "Yes. and follow up the beginning she was to make. she trusted. Weston was sufficiently recovered to admit Mr.'" The time was coming when the news must spread farther. on your side of the question. and to speak cheerfully too. all the advantage. of our having every right that equal worth can give.-His tender compassion towards oppressed worth can go no farther.-But it was so. I suppose. I dare say there was a difference when I was staying with them the other day. he will be much farther from doing you justice. Woodhouse's visits. by which means Hartfield . in a few words.-But how to break it to her father at last!--She had bound herself to do it. Knightley meant to marry. that my information did not take him wholly by surprize. in such an hour of Mr. Depend upon it. What has he been judging by?--I am not conscious of any difference in my spirits or conversation that could prepare him at this time for my marrying any more than at another. since it was a plan to promote the happiness of all-she and Mr. Knightley was to come at such a time. "I wish your father might be half as easily convinced as John will be. only wait till my dear father is in the secret.--She was forced to speak. I remember one evening the poor boys saying." "Ah!" he cried. said. yes--but I am amused that he should have seen so far into my feelings. He seems perfectly unprepared for that. She must not appear to think it a misfortune. and other persons' reception of it tried. She must not make it a more decided subject of misery to him. all the merit on mine. by a melancholy tone herself. Emma having it in view that her gentle reasonings should be employed in the cause. but Mr. and then at Randalls. He had no idea of me. He will think all the happiness. she prepared him first for something strange. that he was rather in expectation of hearing something of the kind." "If I understand your brother. I believe I did not play with the children quite so much as usual. `Uncle seems always tired now. or when it came to the point her heart would have failed her.--With all the spirits she could command. As soon as Mrs. "if you fancy your brother does not do me justice. I am amused by one part of John's letter-did you notice it?--where he says. and hear his opinion. Knightley's absence. I wish I may not sink into `poor Emma' with him at once. resolved first to announce it at home. would be attended with no difficulty.

Weston was ready.--Whom did he ever want to consult on business but Mr. but the worst was overcome. to consider the subject in the most serviceable light--first. Mr.-They had all the assistance which Isabella could give. Woodhouse could not be soon reconciled. feigning no feelings in all that she said to him in favour of the event.would receive the constant addition of that person's company whom she knew he loved. by letters of the strongest approbation. Mrs.--Why could not they go on as they had done? Mr. he should be glad to see him every day.--Did he not love Mr. Knightley?--Who was so useful to him. secondly. and Mrs. on the first meeting. and said it must be so.-To Emma's entreaties and assurances succeeded Mr. whose marriages taking them from Hartfield. so attentive. Knightley always at hand. as a settled. than when Emma first opened the affair to her. more than once. he began to think that some time or other-in another year or two. Poor man!--it was at first a considerable shock to him. Woodhouse's mind.--but they did see him every day as it was. she was sure. and poor Miss Taylor. . and smiled. indeed.--But it would not do. she should be always there. That was all very true. next to his daughters and Mrs. Knightley could not be there too often. as what was to be. and having some feelings himself which almost admitted it. on every fair occasion. who so glad to assist him?-Who so cheerful. She was reminded. had. of having always said she would never marry. the idea was given.--She had been extremely surprized. so attached to him?--Would not he like to have him always on the spot?--Yes. time and continual repetition must do the rest. Knightley's. and that he must not class her with Isabella and Mrs. Weston was acting no part. and told of poor Isabella. and he tried earnestly to dissuade her from it. Emma hung about him affectionately. and she was very sure that he would be a great deal the happier for having Mr. and he was soon used to be talked to by each. perhaps--it might not be so very bad if the marriage did take place. Knightley very much?-He would not deny that he did. made a melancholy change: but she was not going from Hartfield. who so ready to write his letters. when he were once got used to the idea. never more so. best in the world.--It was agreed upon. and. as a good one-well aware of the nearly equal importance of the two recommendations to Mr. and every body by whom he was used to be guided assuring him that it would be for his happiness. and assured that it would be a great deal better for her to remain single. Weston. Weston. whose fond praise of her gave the subject even a kind of welcome. she was introducing no change in their numbers or their comforts but for the better.

all equal.--I wonder whether Jane has any suspicion. "It is to be a secret. so peculiarly eligible. If any thing could increase her delight. till it is found out that every body knows them.but she saw in it only increase of happiness to all. and it was in every respect so proper. "These matters are always a secret. with her baby on her knee. and satisfied himself on that point. . it passed. all open. Weston than by herself--but even he had never been able to finish the subject better than by saying--"Those matters will take care of themselves. so singularly fortunate. Perry. Mrs. and wished it long ago. Mrs. and unexceptionable a connexion. Was not she like a daughter. but five minutes were enough to familiarise the idea to his quickness of mind. one point of the highest importance." said he.--How very few of those men in a rank of life to address Emma would have renounced their own home for Hartfield! And who but Mr. and by the end of an hour he was not far from believing that he had always foreseen it. and had no scruple in urging him to the utmost. was one of the happiest women in the world. and rejoiced in them with all the constancy of his wife. the young people will find a way. I conclude." But here there was nothing to be shifted off in a wild speculation on the future. and Mr. indulging in such reflections as these. It was a union of the highest promise of felicity in itself. Only let me be told when I may speak out. as to think he deserved even her dearest Emma. and Miss Bates being present. his eldest daughter?--he must tell her. No sacrifice on any side worth the name.-He saw the advantages of the match. rational difficulty to oppose or delay it. The news was universally a surprize wherever it spread. that now it seemed as if Emma could not safely have attached herself to any other creature. but the wonder of it was very soon nothing. How to settle the claims of Enscombe and Hartfield had been a continual impediment--less acknowledged by Mr." He went to Highbury the next morning. Cole. He told her the news. for a marriage between Frank and Emma. of course. and without one real. and Mrs. Weston had his five minutes share of it. it was perceiving that the baby would soon have outgrown its first set of caps. Knightley.--She had such a regard for Mr. Knightley could know and bear with Mr. Elton. and that she had herself been the stupidest of beings in not having thought of it. Woodhouse had been always felt in her husband's plans and her own. Woodhouse. so as to make such an arrangement desirable!-The difficulty of disposing of poor Mr. suitable. to Mrs. Weston. It was all right. and in one respect.

the surprize was not softened by any satisfaction. he only hoped "the young lady's pride would now be contented. could daringly exclaim. "I do not know which it ought to be called. Emma. Mr.-How could he be so taken in?--Did not think him at all in love-not in the least. and others might think her. looking up in his face. the Vicarage. except in one habitation. quickly.--There. It was no more than the principals were prepared for. and been obliged to separate before the end of the first quarter. upon the whole. began with. and another might predict disagreements among their servants." and supposed "she had always meant to catch Knightley if she could. as what must bring a great deal to agitate and grieve her. some news. and distressing thoughts were put by. on the point of living at Hartfield. "I have something to tell you. A few more to-morrows. living together. it was a very well approved match.--Extremely disagreeable! But she was not at all sorry that she had abused the housekeeper the other day. One set might recommend their all removing to Donwell.--"Poor Knightley! poor fellow!--sad business for him. for. and then. After the first chat of pleasure he was silent." . Elton was very much discomposed indeed.--How happy he had been to come and dine with them whenever they asked him! But that would be all over now. when Mr." "Good or bad?" said she. Knightley to throw cold water on every thing. but yet. It would never do." and. in a graver tone. he had a thousand good qualities. Knightley came in. they had calculated from the time of its being known at Randalls.--She was extremely concerned. and were thinking of themselves. Elton cared little about it. Oh! no. In general. how soon it would be over Highbury. Volume Three Chapter Eighteen Time passed on. and Emma was thinking of it one morning.--Shocking plan. She knew a family near Maple Grove who had tried it. and leaving Hartfield for the John Knightleys. "Rather he than I!"-But Mrs. there would be a Mrs. It was an alarming change. the most in luck.--Poor Knightley!--There would be an end of all pleasant intercourse with him. as the evening wonder in many a family circle. compared with his wife. though very eccentric. there was no serious objection raised.-Poor fellow!--No more exploring parties to Donwell made for her. with great sagacity.immediately afterwards. Some might think him. and the party from London would be arriving.

that Harriet Smith has accepted Robert Martin. and. "I hope but one." said he. You cannot mean that he has even proposed to her again--yet. on which we do not think alike. "You like it. my dear Emma. but I cannot believe it. we need not talk much on the subject." He paused a moment." he replied." "Indeed! but why so?--I can hardly imagine that any thing which pleases or amuses you." she replied." "You mistake me. "It is not that such a circumstance would now make me unhappy. this is impossible!" but her lips were closed."Oh! good I am sure." "I am afraid. said. Knightley." continued Mr. exerting herself. with his eyes fixed on her face." Emma gave a start.--I wish our opinions were the same. though she knew not what. You are trying not to smile. and know the whole. indeed." She was still looking at him with the most speaking amazement. "I have it from Robert Martin himself. "No. It seems an impossibility!--You cannot mean to say. "I am very much afraid." "You are prepared for the worst. I believe.--I see it in your countenance. in eager gaze. Time. that you will not smile when you hear it. that he intends it." "No. He left me not half an hour ago. "You have." "There is one subject. as little as I feared. I have not. you quite mistake me. I know nothing. "Does nothing occur to you?-Do not you recollect?--Harriet Smith." . my Emma. and she felt afraid of something." Her cheeks flushed at the name. which did not seem like being prepared-and her eyes. Harriet Smith marries Robert Martin. "Have you heard from her yourself this morning?" cried he. should not please and amuse me too. composing his features. I see--and very bad it is. you may be sure. You only mean. again smiling. "It is so. will make one or the other of us think differently. in the meanwhile. But in time they will. pray tell me.

make this intelligible to me. you said that this circumstance would not now make you unhappy.--"Well!"--Then having recourse to her workbasket. Your friend Harriet will make a much longer history when you see her. that Robert Martin's heart seemed for him.--However. and was with me this morning immediately after breakfast. "Well. first on my affairs. with smiling but determined decision. This is all that I can relate of the how. To speak. as happy even as he is deserving. my love. I must say. that on quitting their box at Astley's. How. very overflowing. He came down by yesterday's coach. without its being much to the purpose. where. but I am afraid it gives you more pain than you expected. The party was to be our brother and sister. "Emma. she was sure would be to betray a most unreasonable degree of happiness. Henry. my brother took charge of Mrs." answered Mr. and was asked by him to join their party the same evening to Astley's.--Emma dared not attempt any immediate reply.--How--how has it been possible?" "It is a very simple story. and my brother asked him to dine with them the next day--which he did--and in the course of that visit (as I understand) he found an opportunity of speaking to Harriet. or he would think her mad.--She made him. His situation is an evil--but you must consider it as what satisfies . and to me. to report his proceedings. which only woman's language can make interesting. and that at one time they were in such a crowd. John--and Miss Smith. now tell me every thing. by her acceptance."I mean that he has done it. and then on his own. Knightley. My friend Robert could not resist. he added. when?--Let me know it all. "and been accepted. He went to town on business three days ago. They called for him in their way. She must wait a moment. and when. at his chambers. and I got him to take charge of some papers which I was wanting to send to John. she added. were all extremely amused.--In our communications we deal only in the great. in excuse for leaning down her face. John Knightley and little John." He stopped. as to make Miss Smith rather uneasy.--He delivered these papers to John. They were going to take the two eldest boys to Astley's. I never was more surprized--but it does not make me unhappy.-She will give you all the minute particulars. and certainly did not speak in vain. I assure you. where. and that he did mention. and concealing all the exquisite feelings of delight and entertainment which she knew she must be expressing. Her silence disturbed him. and after observing her a little while." "Good God!" she cried. and he followed with Miss Smith and Henry.

" The contrast between the countenance and air of Mr. you could not wish your friend in better hands. I have been silent from surprize merely. in some measure." "You ought to know your friend best." replied Mr. spoken with such emphasis. Knightley. or new drills--and might not you. are you perfectly sure that she has absolutely and downright accepted him. "Upon my word. Knightley. in the confusion of so many subjects.--As far as the man is concerned. I could suppose she might in time--but can she already?-Did not you misunderstand him?--You were both talking of other things. shows of cattle." that she was really expecting the intelligence to prove. "No. Mr. His good sense and good principles would delight you. excessive surprize. "but I should say she was a good-tempered. than she was before. at this moment. not likely to be very. premature. In respectability of character. "You need not be at any pains to reconcile me to the match. You cannot imagine how suddenly it has come on me! how peculiarly unprepared I was!--for I had reason to believe her very lately more determined against him. and I will answer for your thinking better and better of him as you know him more. much more. "Do you dare to suppose me so great a blockhead. I think Harriet is doing extremely well. I believe you know her quite as well as I do. and having now brought herself not to smile too broadly--she did--cheerfully answering. Knightley and Robert Martin was.--You laugh at me about William Larkins. so strong to Emma's feelings. Knightley. mistake him?--It was not Harriet's hand that he was certain of--it was the dimensions of some famous ox. "Do you dare say this?" cried Mr. as not to know what a man is talking of?-What do you deserve?" . of business. His rank in society I would alter if I could. soft-hearted girl. which is saying a great deal I assure you. It could not be otherwise. so fresh the sound of those words.your friend. and so strong was the recollection of all that had so recently passed on Harriet's side. I hope I know better than to think of Robert Martin. Emma. there can be no doubt that they are. but I could quite as ill spare Robert Martin. very determined against any young man who told her he loved her.--But." Emma could not help laughing as she answered. Her connexions may be worse than his." He wanted her to look up and smile.

and talked to herself. Sometimes. than to go to Mrs. for I am now very willing to grant you all Harriet's good qualities. very seriously good principles. . and. I have taken some pains for your sake. and submitted quietly to a little more praise than she deserved. from all my observations. he said." "I hope so--for at that time I was a fool. with the brightest smiles. Their conversation was soon afterwards closed by the entrance of her father. she may thank you for. I have often talked to her a good deal."Oh! I always deserve the best treatment.-Much of this. which was never the case. She was in dancing. "that he told me she had accepted him. He asked my opinion as to what he was now to do. Are you quite sure that you understand the terms on which Mr. direct answer. Could I mention any thing more fit to be done. shaking her head.) to get acquainted with her. which made it impossible for her to be collected. therefore." "And I am changed also. Her mind was in a state of flutter and wonder. You must have seen that I did. (whom I have always had reason to believe as much in love with her as ever. amiable girl. I have no doubt. Then. in the words he used. Martin and Harriet now are?" "I am quite sure. I have thought you were half suspecting me of pleading poor Martin's cause. and placing her happiness in the affections and utility of domestic life." "You are materially changed since we talked on this subject before. indeed. She was not sorry. he would endeavour to see her in the course of this day. speaking very distinctly.--"Ah! poor Harriet!" She checked herself." he replied." "Me!" cried Emma. exclaiming spirits." replied Emma. and for Robert Martin's sake. but. however. you must give me a plain." "I am perfectly satisfied. and I think I can give you a proof that it must be so. and that there was no obscurity. Goddard? I assured him that I could not. nothing doubtful. Goddard to whom he could apply for information of her relations or friends. She wanted to be alone. "and most sincerely wish them happy. singing. because I never put up with any other. I am convinced of her being an artless. she could be fit for nothing rational. with very good notions. and till she had moved about. He knew of no one but Mrs. and laughed and reflected.

and Mr. and yet there was no preventing a laugh. equivocation. and Miss Fairfax has been persuaded to spend the day with us. which he asked for. Woodhouse received the thanks for coming.Her father's business was to announce James's being gone out to put the horses to. or poor Mrs. preparatory to their now daily drive to Randalls. sometimes in the very midst of them. They arrived. The disguise. and. High in the rank of her most serious and heartfelt felicities. so hateful to her to practise. Weston was alone in the drawing-room:-but hardly had they been told of the baby. Knightley would soon be over. Weston would be disappointed. when a glimpse was caught through the blind. She must laugh at such a close! Such an end of the doleful disappointment of five weeks back! Such a heart--such a Harriet! Now there would be pleasure in her returning--Every thing would be a pleasure. He stays till to-morrow. Emma was extremely glad to see him--but there was a degree of confusion--a number of embarrassing recollections on each side." said Mrs. but that the lessons of her past folly might teach her humility and circumspection in future. but to grow more worthy of him. not always listening.--What had she to wish for? Nothing. might soon be over. conniving at the comfortable persuasion of his being obliged to go to Randalls every day. therefore. mystery. but always agreeing to what he said. very serious in her thankfulness. In the gayest and happiest spirits she set forward with her father. It would be a great pleasure to know Robert Martin. she was really in danger of becoming too happy for security. the gratitude. The joy.--They are coming in. . and in her resolutions. whose intentions and judgment had been ever so superior to her own. "It is Frank and Miss Fairfax. I hope." In half a minute they were in the room. and she had. of two figures passing near the window. Serious she was. Weston. the exquisite delight of her sensations may be imagined. She could now look forward to giving him that full and perfect confidence which her disposition was most ready to welcome as a duty.--Mrs. whether in speech or silence. was the reflection that all necessity of concealment from Mr. The sole grievance and alloy thus removed in the prospect of Harriet's welfare. They met readily and smiling. "I was just going to tell you of our agreeable surprize in seeing him arrive this morning. Nothing. an immediate excuse for disappearing.

" But his spirits were soon rising again. I was once very near--and I wish I had-it would have been better. Early. that Emma began to doubt whether the wish now indulged. and having all sat down again. there was no longer a want of subject or animation-or of courage and opportunity for Frank Churchill to draw near her and say. or ought to be. he named the name of Dixon. indeed. But is it possible that you had no suspicion?--I mean of late. and continued some time to speak with serious feeling of his gratitude and happiness. you had none." "No. would yield its proportion of pleasure.-It would have been a much better transgression had I broken the bond of secrecy and told you every thing." "The shame. and with laughing eyes." he answered. which she had long felt. "not in the least. I hope time has not made you less willing to pardon. Weston doat upon her. "I have to thank you. Weston joined the party. "is all mine. most happy to begin." cried Emma." He thanked her with all his heart." "That appears quite wonderful. "I can never think of it. and forbade its being pronounced in her hearing." "I never had the smallest. of seeing Frank Churchill once more. turning his eyes towards Jane. for a very kind forgiving message in one of Mrs.but with a consciousness which at first allowed little to be said. Weston's letters. they were very bad wrong things. When Mr. . and such as did me no service.--Emma blushed. however. I hope you do not retract what you then said. and of seeing him with Jane. and when the baby was fetched. I am particularly glad to see and shake hands with you--and to give you joy in person. I know. "without extreme shame." she cried. Miss Woodhouse. But though I was always doing wrong things. I assure you." said Emma. "Better than she ever used to do?--You see how my father and Mrs." "It is not now worth a regret. after mentioning the expected return of the Campbells. there was for some time such a blank in the circle. "Is not she looking well?" said he.

-I assure you that I have heard the news with the warmest interest and satisfaction. When the Campbells are returned. but his mind was the next moment in his own concerns and with his own Jane. "I do suspect that in the midst of your perplexities at that time.-I am sure it was a consolation to you. and his next words were. no. I trust. with her dark eye-lashes and hair-a most distinguishing complexion! So peculiarly the lady in it." then sinking his voice.-Just colour enough for beauty."I have some hope." "Oh! no." replied Emma.--She coloured and laughed. archly. and only wanted him to go on in the same style. he wants to be introduced to her. "Ah! by the bye. Let me return your congratulations. that with a sudden accession of gay thought. Miss Woodhouse?-Till this morning.--One cannot call her fair. It is a most uncommon complexion.--I am sure you had. "but do not I remember the time when you found fault with her for being so pale?-When we first began to talk of her." "I have always admired her complexion. we have not once met since the day of reconciliation. no--how can you suspect me of such a thing? I was the most miserable wretch!" "Not quite so miserable as to be insensible to mirth. "of my uncle's being persuaded to pay a visit at Randalls. to feel that you were taking . "Did you ever see such a skin?--such smoothness! such delicacy!-and yet without being actually fair. I am at such a distance from her--is not it hard.--He is a man whom I cannot presume to praise. we shall meet them in London. I am sure it was a source of high entertainment to you. and looking demure for the moment--"I hope Mr. you had very great amusement in tricking us all. he cried. and continue there.--But now. Knightley is well?" He paused.--Have you quite forgotten?" "Oh! no--what an impudent dog I was!--How could I dare--" But he laughed so heartily at the recollection. Do not you pity me?" Emma spoke her pity so very kindly. that Emma could not help saying." resumed he.--"I know you saw my letter." Emma was delighted. and think you may remember my wish in your favour. till we may carry her northward.

however. Observe her eyes. She could not be too soon alarmed. Woodhouse. indeed. it would probably have been better if Perry had seen it. to tell you the truth. I am resolved to have some in an ornament for the head. Weston had been almost as uneasy as herself. Look at her." "True." replied Emma. that he gratefully burst out. because. with a look of true sensibility. nor send for Perry too often. She believed she had been foolish. Perhaps she ought to be ashamed.--She is a complete angel." she presently added. Will not it be beautiful in her dark hair?" "Very beautiful. This was her history.--Perhaps I am the readier to suspect. I should certainly have called at Hartfield. for. and particularly interesting it was to Mr. and she had been within half a minute of sending for Mr. who commended her very much for thinking of sending for Perry." he answered. were it only for a moment.us all in." The others had been talking of the child. and whispering seriously) that my uncle means to give her all my aunt's jewels. that he had not come last night. but most true on mine." He bowed. the destiny which bids fair to connect us with two characters so much superior to our own. the child had been perfectly well again. "If not in our dispositions. and only regretted that she had not done it. very well considering.--In ten minutes. "How delighted I am to see you again! and to see you in such excellent looks!--I would not have missed this meeting for the world. You can have no superior. "She should always send for Perry.-You will be glad to hear (inclining his head. "No. the evening before. though the child seemed well now. Mrs. It was a pity. Perry. Is not she an angel in every gesture? Observe the turn of her throat. as she is looking up at my father. warmly. but it had alarmed her. had you failed to come. true. perhaps. They are to be new set. Weston giving an account of a little alarm she had been under. . "there is a likeness in our destiny. from the infant's appearing not quite well. if the child appeared in the slightest degree disordered. I think it might have been some amusement to myself in the same situation. not true on your side." Frank Churchill caught the name. and she spoke so kindly. I think there is a little likeness between us. but Mr.

and she had no sooner an opportunity of being one hour alone with Harriet. A very few days brought the party from London. is astonishing to me!-They will sometimes obtrude--but how you can court them!" He had a great deal to say in return. is passing under her eye-that the whole blunder is spread before her--that she can attend to nothing else. and really regarding him as she did with friendship. "Such an extraordinary dream of mine!" he cried. "How you can bear such recollections. and on leaving Randalls. though pretending to listen to the others?" Jane was forced to smile completely. an anxious feeling for Harriet.--She hears us. in the animated contemplation of his worth which this comparison produced. she hears us. it was not long that she had to suffer from the recurrence of any such uncertainty. and understood him. and while she joined in the laugh. "I can never think of it without laughing. and really able to accept another man from unbiased inclination. Knightley. at this instant. "My friend Mr. yet steady voice. Knightley's high superiority of character. that pleased as she had been to see Frank Churchill. Perry?--Has he been here this morning?--And how does he travel now?--Has he set up his carriage?" Emma soon recollected. Do not you see that. as he spoke. Look at her. though trying to seem deaf. her smile. and falling naturally into a comparison of the two men. The happiness of this most happy day. she felt. and very entertainingly. and trying. Miss Woodhouse. it was evident from Jane's countenance that she too was really hearing him. I see it in her cheek. she had never been more sensible of Mr. but Emma's feelings were chiefly with Jane. a momentary doubt of its being possible for her to be really cured of her attachment to Mr. and the smile partly remained as she turned towards him. the very passage of her own letter. Volume Three Chapter Nineteen If Emma had still. her vain attempt to frown."Perry!" said he to Emma. and was now forming all her views of happiness. at intervals. Knightley. to catch Miss Fairfax's eye. low. Perry! What are they saying about Mr. than she became perfectly satisfied--unaccountable as it was!-that Robert Martin had thoroughly supplanted Mr. in the argument. which sent me the report. received its completion. and said in a conscious. . for a moment.

Elton!-The stain of illegitimacy. of security. rich enough to afford her the comfortable maintenance which had ever been hers. she fully acknowledged in him all the appearance of sense and worth which could bid fairest for her little friend. necessarily drawn away by her engagements with the Martins. there would be the hope of more. by meeting her with the most unqualified congratulations. as the blood of many a gentleman: but what a connexion had she been preparing for Mr.--Such was the blood of gentility which Emma had formerly been so ready to vouch for!-It was likely to be as untainted. the young man was treated liberally. before. and self-deceived.-The intimacy between her and Emma must sink. But what did such particulars explain?-The fact was. Emma had instantly removed every fear of that nature. and that his continuing to love her had been irresistible.Harriet was a little distressed--did look a little foolish at first: but having once owned that she had been presumptuous and silly. The event. No objection was raised on the father's side. however. and occupied enough for cheerfulness. unbleached by nobility or wealth. retired enough for safety. Harriet. was less and less at Hartfield. was most joyful. perhaps. as Emma could now acknowledge. her pain and confusion seemed to die away with the words. it must ever be unintelligible to Emma. She had no doubt of Harriet's happiness with any good-tempered man.--Harriet's parentage became known. that Harriet had always liked Robert Martin. which was not to be regretted. but with him. to have created so steady and persevering an affection in such a man. and improvement. and the dinner the next day. and who had better sense than herself. Knightley--or for the Churchills--or even for Mr. nor left for it to find her out. who was now introduced at Hartfield. for. would have been a stain indeed. and in the home he offered.--or. she could dwell on it all with the utmost delight.--Beyond this. and leave her without a care for the past. if not quite the luckiest. She proved to be the daughter of a tradesman. and every day was giving her fresh reason for thinking so. She would be respectable and happy. and Emma admitted her to be the luckiest creature in the world. as to her friend's approbation. and decent enough to have always wished for concealment. and with the fullest exultation in the present and future. She would be never led into temptation. stability. it was all as it should be: and as Emma became acquainted with Robert Martin. their friendship must .-Harriet was most happy to give every particular of the evening at Astley's. She would be placed in the midst of those who loved her. to yield only to herself.

to know him fancying himself neglected. When first sounded on the subject. could impair. and.-Mrs. to allow them the fortnight's absence in a tour to the seaside. but by the operation of the same system in another way. were agreed in approving it.change into a calmer sort of goodwill.--He was very uneasy. resolution. and saw her hand bestowed on Robert Martin with so complete a satisfaction. the latest couple engaged of the three. that they were almost hopeless. and they were only waiting for November. The intermediate month was the one fixed on. and that he could not prevent it-a very promising step of the mind on its way to resignation. Still. as far as they dared. Elton as he stood before them.--The Mr.--They had determined that their marriage ought to be concluded while John and Isabella were still at Hartfield. Emma attended Harriet to church. In this state of suspense they were befriended. however. not by any sudden illumination of Mr. Elton. Churchills were also in town. indeed. But Mr. even connected with Mr. gave less pain. indeed. were the first to be married. Knightleys.-He began to think it was to be. at that time she scarcely saw Mr. would have been under wretched alarm every night of his life.--Pilfering was housebreaking to Mr.--John and Isabella. or any wonderful change of his nervous system. but as the clergyman whose blessing at the altar might next fall on herself. Knightleys. by Emma and Mr. . seemed already beginning. and every other friend. fortunately. and but for the sense of his son-in-law's protection. which was the plan. Weston's poultry-house was robbed one night of all her turkeys-evidently by the ingenuity of man. Nay. she hesitated--she could not proceed. and in the most gradual. and was restored to the comforts of her beloved home with the Campbells. his distress would be soon over too. he appeared so much otherwise. She could not bear to see him suffering. Jane Fairfax had already quitted Highbury. Woodhouse's fears. Knightley. that when once the event were over.--Perhaps. as no remembrances. commanded his fullest dependence. Woodhouse--how was Mr. and though her understanding almost acquiesced in the assurance of both the Mr. who had never yet alluded to their marriage but as a distant event.--Robert Martin and Harriet Smith. and presence of mind of the Mr. he was so miserable. and must be. natural manner. Woodhouse's mind. The strength. what ought to be. Before the end of September. that his daughter's courage failed. Woodhouse to be induced to consent?--he.--A second allusion. Other poultry-yards in the neighbourhood also suffered. he was not happy.

the wishes. Elton was called on. the confidence. Hartfield was safe. John Knightley must be in London again by the end of the first week in November. the hopes. and Mrs. -End- . the predictions of the small band of true friends who witnessed the ceremony. thought it all extremely shabby. Elton. with a much more voluntary. The wedding was very much like other weddings. a most pitiful business!--Selina would stare when she heard of it. from the particulars detailed by her husband. within a month from the marriage of Mr. she was able to fix her wedding-day--and Mr. were fully answered in the perfect happiness of the union. very few lace veils.--"Very little white satin.While either of them protected him and his. to join the hands of Mr. Robert Martin. The result of this distress was. and Mrs. in spite of these deficiencies.-But Mr. where the parties have no taste for finery or parade. that. cheerful consent than his daughter had ever presumed to hope for at the moment. and very inferior to her own. Knightley and Miss Woodhouse."--But.

You're Reading a Free Preview

/*********** DO NOT ALTER ANYTHING BELOW THIS LINE ! ************/ var s_code=s.t();if(s_code)document.write(s_code)//-->