volume ii chapter xiv mrs. elton was first seen at church: butthough devotion might be interrupted, curiosity could not be satisfied by a bridein a pew, and it must be left for the visits in form which were then to be paid, to settle whether she were very prettyindeed, or only rather pretty, or not pretty at all. emma had feelings, less of curiosity thanof pride or propriety, to make her resolve on not being the last to pay her respects;and she made a point of harriet's going
with her, that the worst of the businessmight be gone through as soon as possible. she could not enter the house again, couldnot be in the same room to which she had with such vain artifice retreated threemonths ago, to lace up her boot, without recollecting. a thousand vexatious thoughts would recur. compliments, charades, and horribleblunders; and it was not to be supposed that poor harriet should not berecollecting too; but she behaved very well, and was only rather pale and silent. the visit was of course short; and therewas so much embarrassment and occupation of
mind to shorten it, that emma would notallow herself entirely to form an opinion of the lady, and on no account to give one, beyond the nothing-meaning terms of being"elegantly dressed, and very pleasing." she did not really like her. she would not be in a hurry to find fault,but she suspected that there was no elegance;--ease, but not elegance.-- shewas almost sure that for a young woman, a stranger, a bride, there was too much ease. her person was rather good; her face notunpretty; but neither feature, nor air, nor voice, nor manner, were elegant.emma thought at least it would turn out so.
as for mr. elton, his manners did notappear--but no, she would not permit a hasty or a witty word from herself abouthis manners. it was an awkward ceremony at any time tobe receiving wedding visits, and a man had need be all grace to acquit himself wellthrough it. the woman was better off; she might havethe assistance of fine clothes, and the privilege of bashfulness, but the man hadonly his own good sense to depend on; and when she considered how peculiarly unlucky poor mr. elton was in being in the sameroom at once with the woman he had just married, the woman he had wanted to marry,and the woman whom he had been expected to
marry, she must allow him to have the right to look as little wise, and to be as muchaffectedly, and as little really easy as could be. "well, miss woodhouse," said harriet, whenthey had quitted the house, and after waiting in vain for her friend to begin;"well, miss woodhouse, (with a gentle sigh,) what do you think of her?--is notshe very charming?" there was a little hesitation in emma'sanswer. "oh! yes--very--a very pleasing youngwoman." "i think her beautiful, quite beautiful.""very nicely dressed, indeed; a remarkably
elegant gown." "i am not at all surprized that he shouldhave fallen in love." "oh! no--there is nothing to surprize oneat all.--a pretty fortune; and she came in his way." "i dare say," returned harriet, sighingagain, "i dare say she was very much attached to him." "perhaps she might; but it is not everyman's fate to marry the woman who loves him best. miss hawkins perhaps wanted a home, andthought this the best offer she was likely
to have.""yes," said harriet earnestly, "and well she might, nobody could ever have a better. well, i wish them happy with all my heart.and now, miss woodhouse, i do not think i shall mind seeing them again. he is just as superior as ever;--but beingmarried, you know, it is quite a different thing. no, indeed, miss woodhouse, you need not beafraid; i can sit and admire him now without any great misery. to know that he has not thrown himselfaway, is such a comfort!--she does seem a
charming young woman, just what hedeserves. happy creature! he called her 'augusta.'how delightful!" when the visit was returned, emma made upher mind. she could then see more and judge better. from harriet's happening not to be athartfield, and her father's being present to engage mr. elton, she had a quarter ofan hour of the lady's conversation to herself, and could composedly attend to her; and the quarter of an hour quiteconvinced her that mrs. elton was a vain
woman, extremely well satisfied withherself, and thinking much of her own importance; that she meant to shine and be very superior, but with manners which hadbeen formed in a bad school, pert and familiar; that all her notions were drawnfrom one set of people, and one style of living; that if not foolish she was ignorant, and that her society wouldcertainly do mr. elton no good. harriet would have been a better match. if not wise or refined herself, she wouldhave connected him with those who were; but miss hawkins, it might be fairly supposedfrom her easy conceit, had been the best of
her own set. the rich brother-in-law near bristol wasthe pride of the alliance, and his place and his carriages were the pride of him. the very first subject after being seatedwas maple grove, "my brother mr. suckling's seat;"--a comparison of hartfield to maplegrove. the grounds of hartfield were small, butneat and pretty; and the house was modern and well-built. mrs. elton seemed most favourably impressedby the size of the room, the entrance, and all that she could see or imagine.
"very like maple grove indeed!--she wasquite struck by the likeness!--that room was the very shape and size of the morning-room at maple grove; her sister's favourite room."--mr. elton was appealed to.--"was not it astonishingly like?--she couldreally almost fancy herself at maple grove." "and the staircase--you know, as i came in,i observed how very like the staircase was; placed exactly in the same part of thehouse. i really could not help exclaiming! i assure you, miss woodhouse, it is verydelightful to me, to be reminded of a place
i am so extremely partial to as maplegrove. i have spent so many happy months there! (with a little sigh of sentiment).a charming place, undoubtedly. every body who sees it is struck by itsbeauty; but to me, it has been quite a home. whenever you are transplanted, like me,miss woodhouse, you will understand how very delightful it is to meet with anything at all like what one has left behind. i always say this is quite one of the evilsof matrimony." emma made as slight a reply as she could;but it was fully sufficient for mrs. elton,
who only wanted to be talking herself. "so extremely like maple grove!and it is not merely the house--the grounds, i assure you, as far as i couldobserve, are strikingly like. the laurels at maple grove are in the sameprofusion as here, and stand very much in the same way--just across the lawn; and ihad a glimpse of a fine large tree, with a bench round it, which put me so exactly inmind! my brother and sister will be enchantedwith this place. people who have extensive groundsthemselves are always pleased with any thing in the same style."emma doubted the truth of this sentiment.
she had a great idea that people who hadextensive grounds themselves cared very little for the extensive grounds of anybody else; but it was not worth while to attack an error so double-dyed, andtherefore only said in reply, "when you have seen more of this country, iam afraid you will think you have overrated hartfield. surry is full of beauties.""oh! yes, i am quite aware of that. it is the garden of england, you know.surry is the garden of england." "yes; but we must not rest our claims onthat distinction. many counties, i believe, are called thegarden of england, as well as surry."
"no, i fancy not," replied mrs. elton, witha most satisfied smile. "i never heard any county but surry calledso." emma was silenced. "my brother and sister have promised us avisit in the spring, or summer at farthest," continued mrs. elton; "and thatwill be our time for exploring. while they are with us, we shall explore agreat deal, i dare say. they will have their barouche-landau, ofcourse, which holds four perfectly; and therefore, without saying any thing ofour carriage, we should be able to explore the different beauties extremelywell.
they would hardly come in their chaise, ithink, at that season of the year. indeed, when the time draws on, i shalldecidedly recommend their bringing the barouche-landau; it will be so very muchpreferable. when people come into a beautiful countryof this sort, you know, miss woodhouse, one naturally wishes them to see as much aspossible; and mr. suckling is extremely fond of exploring. we explored to king's-weston twice lastsummer, in that way, most delightfully, just after their first having the barouche-landau. you have many parties of that kind here, isuppose, miss woodhouse, every summer?"
"no; not immediately here. we are rather out of distance of the verystriking beauties which attract the sort of parties you speak of; and we are a veryquiet set of people, i believe; more disposed to stay at home than engage inschemes of pleasure." "ah! there is nothing like staying at homefor real comfort. nobody can be more devoted to home than iam. i was quite a proverb for it at maplegrove. many a time has selina said, when she hasbeen going to bristol, 'i really cannot get this girl to move from the house.
i absolutely must go in by myself, though ihate being stuck up in the barouche-landau without a companion; but augusta, ibelieve, with her own good-will, would never stir beyond the park paling.' many a time has she said so; and yet i amno advocate for entire seclusion. i think, on the contrary, when people shutthemselves up entirely from society, it is a very bad thing; and that it is much moreadvisable to mix in the world in a proper degree, without living in it either toomuch or too little. i perfectly understand your situation,however, miss woodhouse--(looking towards mr. woodhouse), your father's state ofhealth must be a great drawback.
why does not he try bath?--indeed heshould. let me recommend bath to you.i assure you i have no doubt of its doing mr. woodhouse good." "my father tried it more than once,formerly; but without receiving any benefit; and mr. perry, whose name, i daresay, is not unknown to you, does not conceive it would be at all more likely tobe useful now." "ah! that's a great pity; for i assure you,miss woodhouse, where the waters do agree, it is quite wonderful the relief they give. in my bath life, i have seen such instancesof it!
and it is so cheerful a place, that itcould not fail of being of use to mr. woodhouse's spirits, which, i understand,are sometimes much depressed. and as to its recommendations to you, ifancy i need not take much pains to dwell on them.the advantages of bath to the young are pretty generally understood. it would be a charming introduction foryou, who have lived so secluded a life; and i could immediately secure you some of thebest society in the place. a line from me would bring you a littlehost of acquaintance; and my particular friend, mrs. partridge, the lady i havealways resided with when in bath, would be
most happy to shew you any attentions, and would be the very person for you to go intopublic with." it was as much as emma could bear, withoutbeing impolite. the idea of her being indebted to mrs.elton for what was called an introduction--of her going into publicunder the auspices of a friend of mrs. elton's--probably some vulgar, dashing widow, who, with the help of a boarder,just made a shift to live!--the dignity of miss woodhouse, of hartfield, was sunkindeed! she restrained herself, however, from anyof the reproofs she could have given, and
only thanked mrs. elton coolly; "but theirgoing to bath was quite out of the question; and she was not perfectly convinced that the place might suit herbetter than her father." and then, to prevent farther outrage andindignation, changed the subject directly. "i do not ask whether you are musical, mrs.elton. upon these occasions, a lady's charactergenerally precedes her; and highbury has long known that you are a superiorperformer." "oh! no, indeed; i must protest against anysuch idea. a superior performer!--very far from it, iassure you.
consider from how partial a quarter yourinformation came. i am doatingly fond of music--passionatelyfond;--and my friends say i am not entirely devoid of taste; but as to any thing else,upon my honour my performance is mediocre to the last degree. you, miss woodhouse, i well know, playdelightfully. i assure you it has been the greatestsatisfaction, comfort, and delight to me, to hear what a musical society i am gotinto. i absolutely cannot do without music. it is a necessary of life to me; and havingalways been used to a very musical society,
both at maple grove and in bath, it wouldhave been a most serious sacrifice. i honestly said as much to mr. e. when hewas speaking of my future home, and expressing his fears lest the retirement ofit should be disagreeable; and the inferiority of the house too--knowing what i had been accustomed to--of course he wasnot wholly without apprehension. when he was speaking of it in that way, ihonestly said that the world i could give up--parties, balls, plays--for i hadno fear of retirement. blessed with so many resources withinmyself, the world was not necessary to me.i could do very well without it.
to those who had no resources it was adifferent thing; but my resources made me quite independent. and as to smaller-sized rooms than i hadbeen used to, i really could not give it a thought.i hoped i was perfectly equal to any sacrifice of that description. certainly i had been accustomed to everyluxury at maple grove; but i did assure him that two carriages were not necessary to myhappiness, nor were spacious apartments. 'but,' said i, 'to be quite honest, i donot think i can live without something of a musical society.i condition for nothing else; but without
music, life would be a blank to me.'" "we cannot suppose," said emma, smiling,"that mr. elton would hesitate to assure you of there being a very musical societyin highbury; and i hope you will not find he has outstepped the truth more than may be pardoned, in consideration of themotive." "no, indeed, i have no doubts at all onthat head. i am delighted to find myself in such acircle. i hope we shall have many sweet littleconcerts together. i think, miss woodhouse, you and i mustestablish a musical club, and have regular
weekly meetings at your house, or ours.will not it be a good plan? if we exert ourselves, i think we shallnot be long in want of allies. something of that nature would beparticularly desirable for me, as an inducement to keep me in practice; formarried women, you know--there is a sad story against them, in general. they are but too apt to give up music.""but you, who are so extremely fond of it-- there can be no danger, surely?""i should hope not; but really when i look around among my acquaintance, i tremble. selina has entirely given up music--nevertouches the instrument--though she played
sweetly. and the same may be said of mrs. jeffereys--clara partridge, that was--and of the two milmans, now mrs. bird and mrs. jamescooper; and of more than i can enumerate. upon my word it is enough to put one in afright. i used to be quite angry with selina; butreally i begin now to comprehend that a married woman has many things to call herattention. i believe i was half an hour this morningshut up with my housekeeper." "but every thing of that kind," said emma,"will soon be in so regular a train--" "well," said mrs. elton, laughing, "weshall see."
emma, finding her so determined uponneglecting her music, had nothing more to say; and, after a moment's pause, mrs.elton chose another subject. "we have been calling at randalls," saidshe, "and found them both at home; and very pleasant people they seem to be.i like them extremely. mr. weston seems an excellent creature--quite a first-rate favourite with me already, i assure you. and she appears so truly good--there issomething so motherly and kind-hearted about her, that it wins upon one directly.she was your governess, i think?" emma was almost too much astonished toanswer; but mrs. elton hardly waited for
the affirmative before she went on."having understood as much, i was rather astonished to find her so very lady-like! but she is really quite the gentlewoman.""mrs. weston's manners," said emma, "were always particularly good. their propriety, simplicity, and elegance,would make them the safest model for any young woman.""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. elton;"knightley himself!--was not it lucky?-- for, not being within when he called theother day, i had never seen him before; and of course, as so particular a friend of mr.e.'s, i had a great curiosity. 'my friend knightley' had been so oftenmentioned, that i was really impatient to see him; and i must do my caro sposo thejustice to say that he need not be ashamed of his friend. knightley is quite the gentleman.i like him very much. decidedly, i think, a very gentleman-likeman." happily, it was now time to be gone.
they were off; and emma could breathe."insufferable woman!" was her immediate exclamation."worse than i had supposed. absolutely insufferable! knightley!--i could not have believed it.knightley!--never seen him in her life before, and call him knightley!--anddiscover that he is a gentleman! a little upstart, vulgar being, with hermr. e., and her caro sposo, and her resources, and all her airs of pertpretension and underbred finery. actually to discover that mr. knightley isa gentleman! i doubt whether he will return thecompliment, and discover her to be a lady.
i could not have believed it! and to propose that she and i should uniteto form a musical club! one would fancy we were bosom friends! and mrs. weston!--astonished that theperson who had brought me up should be a gentlewoman!worse and worse. i never met with her equal. much beyond my hopes.harriet is disgraced by any comparison. oh! what would frank churchill say to her,if he were here? how angry and how diverted he would be!
ah! there i am--thinking of him directly.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 herthoughts, that by the time her father had arranged himself, after the bustle of theeltons' departure, and was ready to speak, she was very tolerably capable ofattending. "well, my dear," he deliberately began,"considering we never saw her before, she seems a very pretty sort of young lady; andi dare say she was very much pleased with you.
she speaks a little too quick.a little quickness of voice there is which rather hurts the ear. but i believe i am nice; i do not likestrange voices; and nobody speaks like you and poor miss taylor. however, she seems a very obliging, pretty-behaved young lady, and no doubt will make him a very good wife.though i think he had better not have married. i made the best excuses i could for nothaving been able to wait on him and mrs. elton on this happy occasion; i said that ihoped i should in the course of the
summer. but i ought to have gone before.not to wait upon a bride is very remiss. ah! it shews what a sad invalid i am!but i do not like the corner into vicarage lane." "i dare say your apologies were accepted,sir. mr. elton knows you.""yes: but a young lady--a bride--i ought to have paid my respects to her if possible. it was being very deficient.""but, my dear papa, you are no friend to matrimony; and therefore why should you beso anxious to pay your respects to a
bride? it ought to be no recommendation to you.it is encouraging people to marry if you make so much of them." "no, my dear, i never encouraged any bodyto marry, but i would always wish to pay every proper attention to a lady--and abride, especially, is never to be neglected. more is avowedly due to her.a bride, you know, my dear, is always the first in company, let the others be whothey may." "well, papa, if this is not encouragementto marry, i do not know what is.
and i should never have expected you to belending your sanction to such vanity-baits for poor young ladies." "my dear, you do not understand me.this is a matter of mere common politeness and good-breeding, and has nothing to dowith any encouragement to people to marry." emma had done. her father was growing nervous, and couldnot understand her. her mind returned to mrs. elton's offences,and long, very long, did they occupy her. > chapter xv
emma was not required, by any subsequentdiscovery, to retract her ill opinion of mrs. elton.her observation had been pretty correct. such as mrs. elton appeared to her on thissecond interview, such she appeared whenever they met again,--self-important,presuming, familiar, ignorant, and ill- bred. she had a little beauty and a littleaccomplishment, but so little judgment that she thought herself coming with superiorknowledge of the world, to enliven and improve a country neighbourhood; and conceived miss hawkins to have held such aplace in society as mrs. elton's
consequence only could surpass.there was no reason to suppose mr. elton thought at all differently from his wife. he seemed not merely happy with her, butproud. he had the air of congratulating himself onhaving brought such a woman to highbury, as not even miss woodhouse could equal; andthe greater part of her new acquaintance, disposed to commend, or not in the habit of judging, following the lead of miss bates'sgood-will, or taking it for granted that the bride must be as clever and asagreeable as she professed herself, were very well satisfied; so that mrs. elton's
praise passed from one mouth to another asit ought to do, unimpeded by miss woodhouse, who readily continued her firstcontribution and talked with a good grace of her being "very pleasant and veryelegantly dressed." in one respect mrs. elton grew even worsethan she had appeared at first. her feelings altered towards emma.--offended, probably, by the little encouragement which her proposals ofintimacy met with, she drew back in her turn and gradually became much more cold and distant; and though the effect wasagreeable, the ill-will which produced it was necessarily increasing emma's dislike.her manners, too--and mr. elton's, were
unpleasant towards harriet. they were sneering and negligent. emma hoped it must rapidly work harriet'scure; but the sensations which could prompt such behaviour sunk them both very much.--it was not to be doubted that poor harriet's attachment had been an offering to conjugal unreserve, and her own share inthe story, under a colouring the least favourable to her and the most soothing tohim, had in all likelihood been given also. she was, of course, the object of theirjoint dislike.--when they had nothing else to say, it must be always easy to beginabusing miss woodhouse; and the enmity
which they dared not shew in open disrespect to her, found a broader vent incontemptuous treatment of harriet. mrs. elton took a great fancy to janefairfax; and from the first. not merely when a state of warfare with oneyoung lady might be supposed to recommend the other, but from the very first; and shewas not satisfied with expressing a natural and reasonable admiration--but without solicitation, or plea, or privilege, shemust be wanting to assist and befriend her.--before emma had forfeited herconfidence, and about the third time of their meeting, she heard all mrs. elton'sknight-errantry on the subject.--
"jane fairfax is absolutely charming, misswoodhouse.--i quite rave about jane fairfax.--a sweet, interesting creature. so mild and ladylike--and with suchtalents!--i assure you i think she has very extraordinary talents.i do not scruple to say that she plays extremely well. i know enough of music to speak decidedlyon that point. oh! she is absolutely charming! you will laugh at my warmth--but, upon myword, i talk of nothing but jane fairfax.-- and her situation is so calculated toaffect one!--miss woodhouse, we must exert
ourselves and endeavour to do something forher. we must bring her forward. such talent as hers must not be suffered toremain unknown.--i dare say you have heard those charming lines of the poet, full many a flower is born to blush unseenand waste its fragrance on the desert air. we must not allow them to be verified insweet jane fairfax." "i cannot think there is any danger of it,"was emma's calm answer--"and when you are better acquainted with miss fairfax'ssituation and understand what her home has been, with colonel and mrs. campbell, i
have no idea that you will suppose hertalents can be unknown." "oh! but dear miss woodhouse, she is now insuch retirement, such obscurity, so thrown away.--whatever advantages she may haveenjoyed with the campbells are so palpably at an end! and i think she feels it.i am sure she does. she is very timid and silent.one can see that she feels the want of encouragement. i like her the better for it.i must confess it is a recommendation to me.
i am a great advocate for timidity--and iam sure one does not often meet with it.-- but in those who are at all inferior, it isextremely prepossessing. oh! i assure you, jane fairfax is a verydelightful character, and interests me more than i can express." "you appear to feel a great deal--but i amnot aware how you or any of miss fairfax's acquaintance here, any of those who haveknown her longer than yourself, can shew her any other attention than"-- "my dear miss woodhouse, a vast deal may bedone by those who dare to act. you and i need not be afraid.
if we set the example, many will followit as far as they can; though all have not our situations. we have carriages to fetch and convey herhome, and we live in a style which could not make the addition of jane fairfax, atany time, the least inconvenient.--i should be extremely displeased if wright were to send us up such a dinner, as could make meregret having asked more than jane fairfax to partake of it.i have no idea of that sort of thing. it is not likely that i should,considering what i have been used to. my greatest danger, perhaps, inhousekeeping, may be quite the other way,
in doing too much, and being too carelessof expense. maple grove will probably be my model morethan it ought to be--for we do not at all affect to equal my brother, mr. suckling,in income.--however, my resolution is taken as to noticing jane fairfax.--i shall certainly have her very often at my house,shall introduce her wherever i can, shall have musical parties to draw out hertalents, and shall be constantly on the watch for an eligible situation. my acquaintance is so very extensive, thati have little doubt of hearing of something to suit her shortly.--i shall introduceher, of course, very particularly to my
brother and sister when they come to us. i am sure they will like her extremely; andwhen she gets a little acquainted with them, her fears will completely wear off,for there really is nothing in the manners of either but what is highly conciliating.- -i shall have her very often indeed whilethey are with me, and i dare say we shall sometimes find a seat for her in thebarouche-landau in some of our exploring parties." "poor jane fairfax!"--thought emma.--"youhave not deserved this. you may have done wrong with regard to mr.dixon, but this is a punishment beyond what
you can have merited!--the kindness andprotection of mrs. elton!--'jane fairfax and jane fairfax.' heavens!let me not suppose that she dares go about, emma woodhouse-ing me!--but upon my honour,there seems no limits to the licentiousness of that woman's tongue!" emma had not to listen to such paradingsagain--to any so exclusively addressed to herself--so disgustingly decorated with a"dear miss woodhouse." the change on mrs. elton's side soonafterwards appeared, and she was left in peace--neither forced to be the veryparticular friend of mrs. elton, nor, under
mrs. elton's guidance, the very active patroness of jane fairfax, and only sharingwith others in a general way, in knowing what was felt, what was meditated, what wasdone. she looked on with some amusement.--missbates's gratitude for mrs. elton's attentions to jane was in the first styleof guileless simplicity and warmth. she was quite one of her worthies--the mostamiable, affable, delightful woman--just as accomplished and condescending as mrs.elton meant to be considered. emma's only surprize was that jane fairfaxshould accept those attentions and tolerate mrs. elton as she seemed to do.
she heard of her walking with the eltons,sitting with the eltons, spending a day with the eltons! this was astonishing!--she could not havebelieved it possible that the taste or the pride of miss fairfax could endure suchsociety and friendship as the vicarage had to offer. "she is a riddle, quite a riddle!" saidshe.--"to chuse to remain here month after month, under privations of every sort! and now to chuse the mortification of mrs.elton's notice and the penury of her conversation, rather than return to thesuperior companions who have always loved
her with such real, generous affection." jane had come to highbury professedly forthree months; the campbells were gone to ireland for three months; but now thecampbells had promised their daughter to stay at least till midsummer, and fresh invitations had arrived for her to jointhem there. according to miss bates--it all came fromher--mrs. dixon had written most pressingly. would jane but go, means were to be found,servants sent, friends contrived--no travelling difficulty allowed to exist; butstill she had declined it!
"she must have some motive, more powerfulthan appears, for refusing this invitation," was emma's conclusion. "she must be under some sort of penance,inflicted either by the campbells or herself. there is great fear, great caution, greatresolution somewhere.--she is not to be with the dixons.the decree is issued by somebody. but why must she consent to be with theeltons?--here is quite a separate puzzle." upon her speaking her wonder aloud on thatpart of the subject, before the few who knew her opinion of mrs. elton, mrs. westonventured this apology for jane.
"we cannot suppose that she has any greatenjoyment at the vicarage, my dear emma-- but it is better than being always at home.her aunt is a good creature, but, as a constant companion, must be very tiresome. we must consider what miss fairfax quits,before we condemn her taste for what she goes to." "you are right, mrs. weston," said mr.knightley warmly, "miss fairfax is as capable as any of us of forming a justopinion of mrs. elton. could she have chosen with whom toassociate, she would not have chosen her. but (with a reproachful smile at emma) shereceives attentions from mrs. elton, which
nobody else pays her." emma felt that mrs. weston was giving her amomentary glance; and she was herself struck by his warmth.with a faint blush, she presently replied, "such attentions as mrs. elton's, i shouldhave imagined, would rather disgust than gratify miss fairfax.mrs. elton's invitations i should have imagined any thing but inviting." "i should not wonder," said mrs. weston,"if miss fairfax were to have been drawn on beyond her own inclination, by her aunt'seagerness in accepting mrs. elton's civilities for her.
poor miss bates may very likely havecommitted her niece and hurried her into a greater appearance of intimacy than her owngood sense would have dictated, in spite of the very natural wish of a little change." both felt rather anxious to hear him speakagain; and after a few minutes silence, he said, "another thing must be taken intoconsideration too--mrs. elton does not talk to miss fairfax as she speaks of her. we all know the difference between thepronouns he or she and thou, the plainest spoken amongst us; we all feel theinfluence of a something beyond common
civility in our personal intercourse with each other--a something more earlyimplanted. we cannot give any body the disagreeablehints that we may have been very full of the hour before. we feel things differently. and besides the operation of this, as ageneral principle, you may be sure that miss fairfax awes mrs. elton by hersuperiority both of mind and manner; and that, face to face, mrs. elton treats her with all the respect which she has a claimto.
such a woman as jane fairfax probably neverfell in mrs. elton's way before--and no degree of vanity can prevent heracknowledging her own comparative littleness in action, if not inconsciousness." "i know how highly you think of janefairfax," said emma. little henry was in her thoughts, and amixture of alarm and delicacy made her irresolute what else to say."yes," he replied, "any body may know how highly i think of her." "and yet," said emma, beginning hastily andwith an arch look, but soon stopping--it was better, however, to know the worst atonce--she hurried on--"and yet, perhaps,
you may hardly be aware yourself how highlyit is. the extent of your admiration may take youby surprize some day or other." mr. knightley was hard at work upon thelower buttons of his thick leather gaiters, and either the exertion of getting themtogether, or some other cause, brought the colour into his face, as he answered, "oh! are you there?--but you are miserablybehindhand. mr. cole gave me a hint of it six weeksago." he stopped.--emma felt her foot pressed bymrs. weston, and did not herself know what to think.in a moment he went on--
"that will never be, however, i can assureyou. miss fairfax, i dare say, would not have meif i were to ask her--and i am very sure i shall never ask her." emma returned her friend's pressure withinterest; and was pleased enough to exclaim,"you are not vain, mr. knightley. i will say that for you." he seemed hardly to hear her; he wasthoughtful--and in a manner which shewed him not pleased, soon afterwards said,"so you have been settling that i should marry jane fairfax?"
"no indeed i have not.you have scolded me too much for match- making, for me to presume to take such aliberty with you. what i said just now, meant nothing. one says those sort of things, of course,without any idea of a serious meaning. oh! no, upon my word i have not thesmallest wish for your marrying jane fairfax or jane any body. you would not come in and sit with us inthis comfortable way, if you were married." mr. knightley was thoughtful again. the result of his reverie was, "no, emma, ido not think the extent of my admiration
for her will ever take me by surprize.--inever had a thought of her in that way, i assure you." and soon afterwards, "jane fairfax is avery charming young woman--but not even jane fairfax is perfect.she has a fault. she has not the open temper which a manwould wish for in a wife." emma could not but rejoice to hear that shehad a fault. "well," said she, "and you soon silencedmr. cole, i suppose?" "yes, very soon. he gave me a quiet hint; i told him he wasmistaken; he asked my pardon and said no
more.cole does not want to be wiser or wittier than his neighbours." "in that respect how unlike dear mrs.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,deep enough in familiar vulgarity? she calls you, knightley--what can she dofor mr. cole? and so i am not to be surprized that janefairfax accepts her civilities and consents to be with her.mrs. weston, your argument weighs most with
i can much more readily enter into thetemptation of getting away from miss bates, than i can believe in the triumph of missfairfax's mind over mrs. elton. i have no faith in mrs. elton'sacknowledging herself the inferior in thought, word, or deed; or in her beingunder any restraint beyond her own scanty rule of good-breeding. i cannot imagine that she will not becontinually insulting her visitor with praise, encouragement, and offers ofservice; that she will not be continually detailing her magnificent intentions, from the procuring her a permanent situation tothe including her in those delightful
exploring parties which are to take placein the barouche-landau." "jane fairfax has feeling," said mr.knightley--"i do not accuse her of want of feeling. her sensibilities, i suspect, are strong--and her temper excellent in its power of forbearance, patience, self-control; but itwants openness. she is reserved, more reserved, i think,than she used to be--and i love an open temper.no--till cole alluded to my supposed attachment, it had never entered my head. i saw jane fairfax and conversed with her,with admiration and pleasure always--but
with no thought beyond." "well, mrs. weston," said emma triumphantlywhen he left them, "what do you say now to mr. knightley's marrying jane fairfax?" "why, really, dear emma, i say that he isso very much occupied by the idea of not being in love with her, that i should notwonder if it were to end in his being so at last. do not beat me." chapter xvi every body in and about highbury who hadever visited mr. elton, was disposed to pay
him attention on his marriage. dinner-parties and evening-parties weremade for him and his lady; and invitations flowed in so fast that she had soon thepleasure of apprehending they were never to have a disengaged day. "i see how it is," said she."i see what a life i am to lead among you. upon my word we shall be absolutelydissipated. we really seem quite the fashion. if this is living in the country, it isnothing very formidable. from monday next to saturday, i assure youwe have not a disengaged day!--a woman with
fewer resources than i have, need not havebeen at a loss." no invitation came amiss to her. her bath habits made evening-partiesperfectly natural to her, and maple grove had given her a taste for dinners. she was a little shocked at the want of twodrawing rooms, at the poor attempt at rout- cakes, and there being no ice in thehighbury card-parties. mrs. bates, mrs. perry, mrs. goddard andothers, were a good deal behind-hand in knowledge of the world, but she would soonshew them how every thing ought to be arranged.
in the course of the spring she must returntheir civilities by one very superior party--in which her card-tables should beset out with their separate candles and unbroken packs in the true style--and more waiters engaged for the evening than theirown establishment could furnish, to carry round the refreshments at exactly theproper hour, and in the proper order. emma, in the meanwhile, could not besatisfied without a dinner at hartfield for the eltons. they must not do less than others, or sheshould be exposed to odious suspicions, and imagined capable of pitiful resentment.a dinner there must be.
after emma had talked about it for tenminutes, mr. woodhouse felt no unwillingness, and only made the usualstipulation of not sitting at the bottom of the table himself, with the usual regular difficulty of deciding who should do it forhim. the persons to be invited, required littlethought. besides the eltons, it must be the westonsand mr. knightley; so far it was all of course--and it was hardly less inevitablethat poor little harriet must be asked to make the eighth:--but this invitation was not given with equal satisfaction, and onmany accounts emma was particularly pleased
by harriet's begging to be allowed todecline it. "she would rather not be in his companymore than she could help. she was not yet quite able to see him andhis charming happy wife together, without feeling uncomfortable. if miss woodhouse would not be displeased,she would rather stay at home." it was precisely what emma would havewished, had she deemed it possible enough for wishing. she was delighted with the fortitude of herlittle friend--for fortitude she knew it was in her to give up being in company andstay at home; and she could now invite the
very person whom she really wanted to make the eighth, jane fairfax.-- since her lastconversation with mrs. weston and mr. knightley, she was more conscience-strickenabout jane fairfax than she had often been.--mr. knightley's words dwelt withher. he had said that jane fairfax receivedattentions from mrs. elton which nobody else paid her. "this is very true," said she, "at least asfar as relates to me, which was all that was meant--and it is very shameful.--of thesame age--and always knowing her--i ought to have been more her friend.--she willnever like me now.
i have neglected her too long.but i will shew her greater attention than i have done." every invitation was successful.they were all disengaged and all happy.-- the preparatory interest of this dinner,however, was not yet over. a circumstance rather unlucky occurred. the two eldest little knightleys wereengaged to pay their grandpapa and aunt a visit of some weeks in the spring, andtheir papa now proposed bringing them, and staying one whole day at hartfield--which one day would be the very day of thisparty.--his professional engagements did
not allow of his being put off, but bothfather and daughter were disturbed by its happening so. mr. woodhouse considered eight persons atdinner together as the utmost that his nerves could bear--and here would be aninth--and emma apprehended that it would be a ninth very much out of humour at not being able to come even to hartfield forforty-eight hours without falling in with a dinner-party. she comforted her father better than shecould comfort herself, by representing that though he certainly would make them nine,yet he always said so little, that the
increase of noise would be very immaterial. she thought it in reality a sad exchangefor herself, to have him with his grave looks and reluctant conversation opposed toher instead of his brother. the event was more favourable to mr.woodhouse than to emma. john knightley came; but mr. weston wasunexpectedly summoned to town and must be absent on the very day. he might be able to join them in theevening, but certainly not to dinner. mr. woodhouse was quite at ease; and theseeing him so, with the arrival of the little boys and the philosophic composureof her brother on hearing his fate, removed
the chief of even emma's vexation. the day came, the party were punctuallyassembled, and mr. john knightley seemed early to devote himself to the business ofbeing agreeable. instead of drawing his brother off to awindow while they waited for dinner, he was talking to miss fairfax. mrs. elton, as elegant as lace and pearlscould make her, he looked at in silence-- wanting only to observe enough forisabella's information--but miss fairfax was an old acquaintance and a quiet girl,and he could talk to her. he had met her before breakfast as he wasreturning from a walk with his little boys,
when it had been just beginning to rain. it was natural to have some civil hopes onthe subject, and he said, "i hope you did not venture far, missfairfax, this morning, or i am sure you must have been wet.--we scarcely got homein time. i hope you turned directly." "i went only to the post-office," said she,"and reached home before the rain was much. it is my daily errand.i always fetch the letters when i am here. it saves trouble, and is a something to getme out. a walk before breakfast does me good.""not a walk in the rain, i should imagine."
"no, but it did not absolutely rain when iset out." mr. john knightley smiled, and replied, "that is to say, you chose to have yourwalk, for you were not six yards from your own door when i had the pleasure of meetingyou; and henry and john had seen more drops than they could count long before. the post-office has a great charm at oneperiod of our lives. when you have lived to my age, you willbegin to think letters are never worth going through the rain for." there was a little blush, and then thisanswer,
"i must not hope to be ever situated as youare, in the midst of every dearest connexion, and therefore i cannot expectthat simply growing older should make me indifferent about letters." "indifferent!oh! no--i never conceived you could become indifferent.letters are no matter of indifference; they are generally a very positive curse." "you are speaking of letters of business;mine are letters of friendship." "i have often thought them the worst of thetwo," replied he coolly. "business, you know, may bring money, butfriendship hardly ever does."
"ah! you are not serious now. i know mr. john knightley too well--i amvery sure he understands the value of friendship as well as any body. i can easily believe that letters are verylittle to you, much less than to me, but it is not your being ten years older thanmyself which makes the difference, it is not age, but situation. you have every body dearest to you alwaysat hand, i, probably, never shall again; and therefore till i have outlived all myaffections, a post-office, i think, must always have power to draw me out, in worseweather than to-day."
"when i talked of your being altered bytime, by the progress of years," said john knightley, "i meant to imply the change ofsituation which time usually brings. i consider one as including the other. time will generally lessen the interest ofevery attachment not within the daily circle--but that is not the change i had inview for you. as an old friend, you will allow me tohope, miss fairfax, that ten years hence you may have as many concentrated objectsas i have." it was kindly said, and very far fromgiving offence. a pleasant "thank you" seemed meant tolaugh it off, but a blush, a quivering lip,
a tear in the eye, shewed that it was feltbeyond a laugh. her attention was now claimed by mr.woodhouse, who being, according to his custom on such occasions, making the circleof his guests, and paying his particular compliments to the ladies, was ending with her--and with all his mildest urbanity,said, "i am very sorry to hear, miss fairfax, ofyour being out this morning in the rain. young ladies should take care ofthemselves.--young ladies are delicate plants.they should take care of their health and their complexion.
my dear, did you change your stockings?""yes, sir, i did indeed; and i am very much obliged by your kind solicitude about me." "my dear miss fairfax, young ladies arevery sure to be cared for.--i hope your good grand-mama and aunt are well.they are some of my very old friends. i wish my health allowed me to be a betterneighbour. you do us a great deal of honour to-day, iam sure. my daughter and i are both highly sensibleof your goodness, and have the greatest satisfaction in seeing you at hartfield." the kind-hearted, polite old man might thensit down and feel that he had done his
duty, and made every fair lady welcome andeasy. by this time, the walk in the rain hadreached mrs. elton, and her remonstrances now opened upon jane. "my dear jane, what is this i hear?--goingto the post-office in the rain!--this must not be, i assure you.--you sad girl, howcould you do such a thing?--it is a sign i was not there to take care of you." jane very patiently assured her that shehad not caught any cold. "oh! do not tell me. you really are a very sad girl, and do notknow how to take care of yourself.--to the
post-office indeed!mrs. weston, did you ever hear the like? you and i must positively exert ourauthority." "my advice," said mrs. weston kindly andpersuasively, "i certainly do feel tempted to give. miss fairfax, you must not run such risks.--liable as you have been to severe colds, indeed you ought to be particularlycareful, especially at this time of year. the spring i always think requires morethan common care. better wait an hour or two, or even half aday for your letters, than run the risk of bringing on your cough again.
now do not you feel that you had?yes, i am sure you are much too reasonable. you look as if you would not do such athing again." "oh! she shall not do such a thingagain," eagerly rejoined mrs. elton. "we will not allow her to do such a thingagain:"--and nodding significantly--"there must be some arrangement made, there mustindeed. i shall speak to mr. e. the man who fetches our letters everymorning (one of our men, i forget his name) shall inquire for yours too and bring themto you. that will obviate all difficulties youknow; and from us i really think, my dear
jane, you can have no scruple to acceptsuch an accommodation." "you are extremely kind," said jane; "but icannot give up my early walk. i am advised to be out of doors as much asi can, i must walk somewhere, and the post- office is an object; and upon my word, ihave scarcely ever had a bad morning before." "my dear jane, say no more about it.the thing is determined, that is (laughing affectedly) as far as i can presume todetermine any thing without the concurrence of my lord and master. you know, mrs. weston, you and i must becautious how we express ourselves.
but i do flatter myself, my dear jane, thatmy influence is not entirely worn out. if i meet with no insuperable difficultiestherefore, consider that point as settled." "excuse me," said jane earnestly, "i cannotby any means consent to such an arrangement, so needlessly troublesome toyour servant. if the errand were not a pleasure to me, itcould be done, as it always is when i am not here, by my grandmama's." "oh! my dear; but so much as patty has todo!--and it is a kindness to employ our men." jane looked as if she did not mean to beconquered; but instead of answering, she
began speaking again to mr. john knightley. "the post-office is a wonderfulestablishment!" said she.--"the regularity and despatch of it! if one thinks of all that it has to do, andall that it does so well, it is really astonishing!""it is certainly very well regulated." "so seldom that any negligence or blunderappears! so seldom that a letter, among thethousands that are constantly passing about the kingdom, is even carried wrong--and notone in a million, i suppose, actually lost! and when one considers the variety ofhands, and of bad hands too, that are to be
deciphered, it increases the wonder." "the clerks grow expert from habit.--theymust begin with some quickness of sight and hand, and exercise improves them. if you want any farther explanation,"continued he, smiling, "they are paid for it.that is the key to a great deal of capacity. the public pays and must be served well."the varieties of handwriting were farther talked of, and the usual observations made. "i have heard it asserted," said johnknightley, "that the same sort of
handwriting often prevails in a family; andwhere the same master teaches, it is natural enough. but for that reason, i should imagine thelikeness must be chiefly confined to the females, for boys have very little teachingafter an early age, and scramble into any hand they can get. isabella and emma, i think, do write verymuch alike. i have not always known their writingapart." "yes," said his brother hesitatingly,"there is a likeness. i know what you mean--but emma's hand isthe strongest."
"isabella and emma both write beautifully,"said mr. woodhouse; "and always did. and so does poor mrs. weston"--with half asigh and half a smile at her. "i never saw any gentleman's handwriting"--emma began, looking also at mrs. weston; but stopped, on perceiving that mrs. westonwas attending to some one else--and the pause gave her time to reflect, "now, how am i going to introduce him?--am i unequalto speaking his name at once before all these people? is it necessary for me to use anyroundabout phrase?--your yorkshire friend-- your correspondent in yorkshire;--thatwould be the way, i suppose, if i were very
bad.--no, i can pronounce his name withoutthe smallest distress. i certainly get better and better.--now forit." mrs. weston was disengaged and emma beganagain--"mr. frank churchill writes one of the best gentleman's hands i ever saw.""i do not admire it," said mr. knightley. "it is too small--wants strength. it is like a woman's writing."this was not submitted to by either lady. they vindicated him against the baseaspersion. "no, it by no means wanted strength--it wasnot a large hand, but very clear and certainly strong.had not mrs. weston any letter about her to
produce?" no, she had heard from him very lately, buthaving answered the letter, had put it away. "if we were in the other room," said emma,"if i had my writing-desk, i am sure i could produce a specimen. i have a note of his.--do not you remember,mrs. weston, employing him to write for you one day?""he chose to say he was employed"-- "well, well, i have that note; and can shewit after dinner to convince mr. knightley." "oh! when a gallant young man, like mr.frank churchill," said mr. knightley dryly,
"writes to a fair lady like miss woodhouse,he will, of course, put forth his best." dinner was on table.--mrs. elton, beforeshe could be spoken to, was ready; and before mr. woodhouse had reached her withhis request to be allowed to hand her into the dining-parlour, was saying-- "must i go first?i really am ashamed of always leading the way."jane's solicitude about fetching her own letters had not escaped emma. she had heard and seen it all; and feltsome curiosity to know whether the wet walk of this morning had produced any.
she suspected that it had; that it wouldnot have been so resolutely encountered but in full expectation of hearing from someone very dear, and that it had not been in vain. she thought there was an air of greaterhappiness than usual--a glow both of complexion and spirits. she could have made an inquiry or two, asto the expedition and the expense of the irish mails;--it was at her tongue's end--but she abstained. she was quite determined not to utter aword that should hurt jane fairfax's feelings; and they followed the otherladies out of the room, arm in arm, with an
appearance of good-will highly becoming tothe beauty and grace of each. chapter xvii when the ladies returned to the drawing-room after dinner, emma found it hardly possible to prevent their making twodistinct parties;--with so much perseverance in judging and behaving ill did mrs. elton engross jane fairfax andslight herself. she and mrs. weston were obliged to bealmost always either talking together or silent together. mrs. elton left them no choice.
if jane repressed her for a little time,she soon began again; and though much that passed between them was in a half-whisper,especially on mrs. elton's side, there was no avoiding a knowledge of their principal subjects: the post-office--catching cold--fetching letters--and friendship, were long under discussion; and to them succeededone, which must be at least equally unpleasant to jane--inquiries whether she had yet heard of any situation likely tosuit her, and professions of mrs. elton's meditated activity."here is april come!" said she, "i get quite anxious about you.
june will soon be here.""but i have never fixed on june or any other month--merely looked forward to thesummer in general." "but have you really heard of nothing?" "i have not even made any inquiry; i do notwish to make any yet." "oh! my dear, we cannot begin too early;you are not aware of the difficulty of procuring exactly the desirable thing." "i not aware!" said jane, shaking her head;"dear mrs. elton, who can have thought of it as i have done?""but you have not seen so much of the world as i have.
you do not know how many candidates therealways are for the first situations. i saw a vast deal of that in theneighbourhood round maple grove. a cousin of mr. suckling, mrs. bragge, hadsuch an infinity of applications; every body was anxious to be in her family, forshe moves in the first circle. wax-candles in the schoolroom! you may imagine how desirable!of all houses in the kingdom mrs. bragge's is the one i would most wish to see youin." "colonel and mrs. campbell are to be intown again by midsummer," said jane. "i must spend some time with them; i amsure they will want it;--afterwards i may
probably be glad to dispose of myself. but i would not wish you to take thetrouble of making any inquiries at present.""trouble! aye, i know your scruples. you are afraid of giving me trouble; but iassure you, my dear jane, the campbells can hardly be more interested about you than iam. i shall write to mrs. partridge in a day ortwo, and shall give her a strict charge to be on the look-out for any thing eligible." "thank you, but i would rather you did notmention the subject to her; till the time draws nearer, i do not wish to be givingany body trouble."
"but, my dear child, the time is drawingnear; here is april, and june, or say even july, is very near, with such business toaccomplish before us. your inexperience really amuses me! a situation such as you deserve, and yourfriends would require for you, is no everyday occurrence, is not obtained at amoment's notice; indeed, indeed, we must begin inquiring directly." "excuse me, ma'am, but this is by no meansmy intention; i make no inquiry myself, and should be sorry to have any made by myfriends. when i am quite determined as to the time,i am not at all afraid of being long
unemployed. there are places in town, offices, whereinquiry would soon produce something-- offices for the sale--not quite of humanflesh--but of human intellect." "oh! my dear, human flesh! you quite shock me; if you mean a fling atthe slave-trade, i assure you mr. suckling was always rather a friend to theabolition." "i did not mean, i was not thinking of theslave-trade," replied jane; "governess- trade, i assure you, was all that i had inview; widely different certainly as to the guilt of those who carry it on; but as to
the greater misery of the victims, i do notknow where it lies. but i only mean to say that there areadvertising offices, and that by applying to them i should have no doubt of very soonmeeting with something that would do." "something that would do!" repeated mrs.elton. "aye, that may suit your humble ideas ofyourself;--i know what a modest creature you are; but it will not satisfy yourfriends to have you taking up with any thing that may offer, any inferior, commonplace situation, in a family notmoving in a certain circle, or able to command the elegancies of life."
"you are very obliging; but as to all that,i am very indifferent; it would be no object to me to be with the rich; mymortifications, i think, would only be the greater; i should suffer more fromcomparison. a gentleman's family is all that i shouldcondition for." "i know you, i know you; you would take upwith any thing; but i shall be a little more nice, and i am sure the good campbellswill be quite on my side; with your superior talents, you have a right to movein the first circle. your musical knowledge alone would entitleyou to name your own terms, have as many rooms as you like, and mix in the family asmuch as you chose;--that is--i do not know-
-if you knew the harp, you might do all that, i am very sure; but you sing as wellas play;--yes, i really believe you might, even without the harp, stipulate for whatyou chose;--and you must and shall be delightfully, honourably and comfortably settled before the campbells or i have anyrest." "you may well class the delight, thehonour, and the comfort of such a situation together," said jane, "they are pretty sureto be equal; however, i am very serious in not wishing any thing to be attempted atpresent for me. i am exceedingly obliged to you, mrs.elton, i am obliged to any body who feels
for me, but i am quite serious in wishingnothing to be done till the summer. for two or three months longer i shallremain where i am, and as i am." "and i am quite serious too, i assure you,"replied mrs. elton gaily, "in resolving to be always on the watch, and employing myfriends to watch also, that nothing really unexceptionable may pass us." in this style she ran on; never thoroughlystopped by any thing till mr. woodhouse came into the room; her vanity had then achange of object, and emma heard her saying in the same half-whisper to jane, "here comes this dear old beau of mine, iprotest!--only think of his gallantry in
coming away before the other men!--what adear creature he is;--i assure you i like him excessively. i admire all that quaint, old-fashionedpoliteness; it is much more to my taste than modern ease; modern ease oftendisgusts me. but this good old mr. woodhouse, i wish youhad heard his gallant speeches to me at dinner.oh! i assure you i began to think my caro sposo would be absolutely jealous. i fancy i am rather a favourite; he tooknotice of my gown. how do you like it?--selina's choice--handsome, i think, but i do not know
whether it is not over-trimmed; i have thegreatest dislike to the idea of being over- trimmed--quite a horror of finery. i must put on a few ornaments now, becauseit is expected of me. a bride, you know, must appear like abride, but my natural taste is all for simplicity; a simple style of dress is soinfinitely preferable to finery. but i am quite in the minority, i believe;few people seem to value simplicity of dress,--show and finery are every thing. i have some notion of putting such atrimming as this to my white and silver poplin.do you think it will look well?"
the whole party were but just reassembledin the drawing-room when mr. weston made his appearance among them.he had returned to a late dinner, and walked to hartfield as soon as it was over. he had been too much expected by the bestjudges, for surprize--but there was great joy. mr. woodhouse was almost as glad to see himnow, as he would have been sorry to see him before. john knightley only was in muteastonishment.--that a man who might have spent his evening quietly at home after aday of business in london, should set off
again, and walk half a mile to another man's house, for the sake of being in mixedcompany till bed-time, of finishing his day in the efforts of civility and the noise ofnumbers, was a circumstance to strike him deeply. a man who had been in motion since eighto'clock in the morning, and might now have been still, who had been long talking, andmight have been silent, who had been in more than one crowd, and might have been alone!--such a man, to quit thetranquillity and independence of his own fireside, and on the evening of a coldsleety april day rush out again into the
world!--could he by a touch of his finger have instantly taken back his wife, therewould have been a motive; but his coming would probably prolong rather than break upthe party. john knightley looked at him withamazement, then shrugged his shoulders, and said, "i could not have believed it even ofhim." mr. weston meanwhile, perfectlyunsuspicious of the indignation he was exciting, happy and cheerful as usual, andwith all the right of being principal talker, which a day spent anywhere from home confers, was making himself agreeableamong the rest; and having satisfied the
inquiries of his wife as to his dinner,convincing her that none of all her careful directions to the servants had been forgotten, and spread abroad what publicnews he had heard, was proceeding to a family communication, which, thoughprincipally addressed to mrs. weston, he had not the smallest doubt of being highlyinteresting to every body in the room. he gave her a letter, it was from frank,and to herself; he had met with it in his way, and had taken the liberty of openingit. "read it, read it," said he, "it will giveyou pleasure; only a few lines--will not take you long; read it to emma."
the two ladies looked over it together; andhe sat smiling and talking to them the whole time, in a voice a little subdued,but very audible to every body. "well, he is coming, you see; good news, ithink. well, what do you say to it?--i always toldyou he would be here again soon, did not i?--anne, my dear, did not i always tellyou so, and you would not believe me?--in town next week, you see--at the latest, i dare say; for she is as impatient as theblack gentleman when any thing is to be done; most likely they will be there to-morrow or saturday. as to her illness, all nothing of course.
but it is an excellent thing to have frankamong us again, so near as town. they will stay a good while when they docome, and he will be half his time with us. this is precisely what i wanted. well, pretty good news, is not it?have you finished it? has emma read it all? put it up, put it up; we will have a goodtalk about it some other time, but it will not do now.i shall only just mention the circumstance to the others in a common way." mrs. weston was most comfortably pleased onthe occasion.
her looks and words had nothing to restrainthem. she was happy, she knew she was happy, andknew she ought to be happy. her congratulations were warm and open; butemma could not speak so fluently. she was a little occupied in weighing herown feelings, and trying to understand the degree of her agitation, which she ratherthought was considerable. mr. weston, however, too eager to be veryobservant, too communicative to want others to talk, was very well satisfied with whatshe did say, and soon moved away to make the rest of his friends happy by a partial communication of what the whole room musthave overheard already.
it was well that he took every body's joyfor granted, or he might not have thought either mr. woodhouse or mr. knightleyparticularly delighted. they were the first entitled, after mrs.weston and emma, to be made happy;--from them he would have proceeded to missfairfax, but she was so deep in conversation with john knightley, that it would have been too positive aninterruption; and finding himself close to mrs. elton, and her attention disengaged,he necessarily began on the subject with her. chapter xviii
"i hope i shall soon have the pleasure ofintroducing my son to you," said mr. weston. mrs. elton, very willing to suppose aparticular compliment intended her by such a hope, smiled most graciously. "you have heard of a certain frankchurchill, i presume," he continued--"and know him to be my son, though he does notbear my name." "oh! yes, and i shall be very happy in hisacquaintance. i am sure mr. elton will lose no time incalling on him; and we shall both have great pleasure in seeing him at thevicarage."
"you are very obliging.--frank will beextremely happy, i am sure.-- he is to be in town next week, if not sooner.we have notice of it in a letter to-day. i met the letters in my way this morning,and seeing my son's hand, presumed to open it--though it was not directed to me--itwas to mrs. weston. she is his principal correspondent, iassure you. i hardly ever get a letter.""and so you absolutely opened what was directed to her! oh! mr. weston--(laughing affectedly) imust protest against that.--a most dangerous precedent indeed!--i beg you willnot let your neighbours follow your
example.--upon my word, if this is what i am to expect, we married women must beginto exert ourselves!--oh! mr. weston, i could not have believed it of you!""aye, we men are sad fellows. you must take care of yourself, mrs.elton.--this letter tells us--it is a short letter--written in a hurry, merely to giveus notice--it tells us that they are all coming up to town directly, on mrs. churchill's account--she has not been wellthe whole winter, and thinks enscombe too cold for her--so they are all to movesouthward without loss of time." "indeed!--from yorkshire, i think.
enscombe is in yorkshire?""yes, they are about one hundred and ninety miles from london, a considerable journey.""yes, upon my word, very considerable. sixty-five miles farther than from maplegrove to london. but what is distance, mr. weston, to peopleof large fortune?--you would be amazed to hear how my brother, mr. suckling,sometimes flies about. you will hardly believe me--but twice inone week he and mr. bragge went to london and back again with four horses." "the evil of the distance from enscombe,"said mr. weston, "is, that mrs. churchill, as we understand, has not been ableto leave the sofa for a week together.
in frank's last letter she complained, hesaid, of being too weak to get into her conservatory without having both his armand his uncle's! this, you know, speaks a great degree ofweakness--but now she is so impatient to be in town, that she means to sleep only twonights on the road.--so frank writes word. certainly, delicate ladies have veryextraordinary constitutions, mrs. elton. you must grant me that.""no, indeed, i shall grant you nothing. i always take the part of my own sex. i do indeed.i give you notice--you will find me a formidable antagonist on that point.
i always stand up for women--and i assureyou, if you knew how selina feels with respect to sleeping at an inn, you wouldnot wonder at mrs. churchill's making incredible exertions to avoid it. selina says it is quite horror to her--andi believe i have caught a little of her nicety.she always travels with her own sheets; an excellent precaution. does mrs. churchill do the same?""depend upon it, mrs. churchill does every thing that any other fine lady ever did.mrs. churchill will not be second to any lady in the land for"--
mrs. elton eagerly interposed with,"oh! mr. weston, do not mistake me. selina is no fine lady, i assure you.do not run away with such an idea." "is not she? then she is no rule for mrs. churchill, whois as thorough a fine lady as any body ever beheld."mrs. elton began to think she had been wrong in disclaiming so warmly. it was by no means her object to have itbelieved that her sister was not a fine lady; perhaps there was want of spirit inthe pretence of it;--and she was considering in what way she had bestretract, when mr. weston went on.
"mrs. churchill is not much in my goodgraces, as you may suspect--but this is quite between ourselves. she is very fond of frank, and therefore iwould not speak ill of her. besides, she is out of health now; butthat indeed, by her own account, she has always been. i would not say so to every body, mrs.elton, but i have not much faith in mrs. churchill's illness.""if she is really ill, why not go to bath, mr. weston?--to bath, or to clifton?" "she has taken it into her head thatenscombe is too cold for her.
the fact is, i suppose, that she is tiredof enscombe. she has now been a longer time stationarythere, than she ever was before, and she begins to want change.it is a retired place. a fine place, but very retired." "aye--like maple grove, i dare say.nothing can stand more retired from the road than maple grove.such an immense plantation all round it! you seem shut out from every thing--in themost complete retirement.--and mrs. churchill probably has not health orspirits like selina to enjoy that sort of seclusion.
or, perhaps she may not have resourcesenough in herself to be qualified for a country life. i always say a woman cannot have too manyresources--and i feel very thankful that i have so many myself as to be quiteindependent of society." "frank was here in february for afortnight." "so i remember to have heard. he will find an addition to the societyof highbury when he comes again; that is, if i may presume to call myself anaddition. but perhaps he may never have heard ofthere being such a creature in the world."
this was too loud a call for a complimentto be passed by, and mr. weston, with a very good grace, immediately exclaimed, "my dear madam!nobody but yourself could imagine such a thing possible. not heard of you!--i believe mrs. weston'sletters lately have been full of very little else than mrs. elton."he had done his duty and could return to his son. "when frank left us," continued he, "it wasquite uncertain when we might see him again, which makes this day's news doublywelcome.
it has been completely unexpected. that is, i always had a strong persuasionhe would be here again soon, i was sure something favourable would turn up--butnobody believed me. he and mrs. weston were both dreadfullydesponding. 'how could he contrive to come? and how could it be supposed that his uncleand aunt would spare him again?' and so forth--i always felt that something wouldhappen in our favour; and so it has, you see. i have observed, mrs. elton, in the courseof my life, that if things are going
untowardly one month, they are sure to mendthe next." "very true, mr. weston, perfectly true. it is just what i used to say to a certaingentleman in company in the days of courtship, when, because things did not goquite right, did not proceed with all the rapidity which suited his feelings, he was apt to be in despair, and exclaim that hewas sure at this rate it would be may before hymen's saffron robe would be put onfor us. oh! the pains i have been at to dispelthose gloomy ideas and give him cheerfuller views!
the carriage--we had disappointments aboutthe carriage;--one morning, i remember, he came to me quite in despair." she was stopped by a slight fit ofcoughing, and mr. weston instantly seized the opportunity of going on."you were mentioning may. may is the very month which mrs. churchillis ordered, or has ordered herself, to spend in some warmer place than enscombe--in short, to spend in london; 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 for it: days almost atthe longest; weather genial and pleasant,
always inviting one out, and never too hotfor exercise. when he was here before, we made the bestof it; but there was a good deal of wet, damp, cheerless weather; there always is infebruary, you know, and we could not do half that we intended. now will be the time. this will be complete enjoyment; and i donot know, mrs. elton, whether the uncertainty of our meetings, the sort ofconstant expectation there will be of his coming in to-day or to-morrow, and at any hour, may not be more friendly to happinessthan having him actually in the house.
i think it is so.i think it is the state of mind which gives most spirit and delight. i hope you will be pleased with my son; butyou must not expect a prodigy. he is generally thought a fine young man,but do not expect a prodigy. mrs. weston's partiality for him is verygreat, and, as you may suppose, most gratifying to me.she thinks nobody equal to him." "and i assure you, mr. weston, i have verylittle doubt that my opinion will be decidedly in his favour. i have heard so much in praise of mr. frankchurchill.--at the same time it is fair to
observe, that i am one of those who alwaysjudge for themselves, and are by no means implicitly guided by others. i give you notice that as i find your son,so i shall judge of him.--i am no flatterer."mr. weston was musing. "i hope," said he presently, "i have notbeen severe upon poor mrs. churchill. if she is ill i should be sorry to do herinjustice; but there are some traits in her character which make it difficult for me tospeak of her with the forbearance i could wish. you cannot be ignorant, mrs. elton, of myconnexion with the family, nor of the
treatment i have met with; and, betweenourselves, the whole blame of it is to be laid to her. she was the instigator.frank's mother would never have been slighted as she was but for her. mr. churchill has pride; but his pride isnothing to his wife's: his is a quiet, indolent, gentlemanlike sort of pride thatwould harm nobody, and only make himself a little helpless and tiresome; but her prideis arrogance and insolence! and what inclines one less to bear, she hasno fair pretence of family or blood. she was nobody when he married her, barelythe daughter of a gentleman; but ever since
her being turned into a churchill she hasout-churchill'd them all in high and mighty claims: but in herself, i assure you, sheis an upstart." "only think! well, that must be infinitelyprovoking! i have quite a horror of upstarts. maple grove has given me a thorough disgustto people of that sort; for there is a family in that neighbourhood who are suchan annoyance to my brother and sister from the airs they give themselves! your description of mrs. churchill made methink of them directly. people of the name of tupman, very latelysettled there, and encumbered with many low
connexions, but giving themselves immenseairs, and expecting to be on a footing with the old established families. a year and a half is the very utmost thatthey can have lived at west hall; and how they got their fortune nobody knows. they came from birmingham, which is not aplace to promise much, you know, mr. weston.one has not great hopes from birmingham. i always say there is something direful inthe sound: but nothing more is positively known of the tupmans, though a good manythings i assure you are suspected; and yet by their manners they evidently think
themselves equal even to my brother, mr.suckling, who happens to be one of their nearest neighbours.it is infinitely too bad. mr. suckling, who has been eleven years aresident at maple grove, and whose father had it before him--i believe, at least--iam almost sure that old mr. suckling had completed the purchase before his death." they were interrupted.tea was carrying round, and mr. weston, having said all that he wanted, soon tookthe opportunity of walking away. after tea, mr. and mrs. weston, and mr.elton sat down with mr. woodhouse to cards. the remaining five were left to their ownpowers, and emma doubted their getting on
very well; for mr. knightley seemed littledisposed for conversation; mrs. elton was wanting notice, which nobody had inclination to pay, and she was herself ina worry of spirits which would have made her prefer being silent.mr. john knightley proved more talkative than his brother. he was to leave them early the next day;and he soon began with-- "well, emma, i do not believe i have anything more to say about the boys; but you have your sister's letter, and every thingis down at full length there we may be sure.
my charge would be much more concise thanher's, and probably not much in the same spirit; all that i have to recommend beingcomprised in, do not spoil them, and do not physic them." "i rather hope to satisfy you both," saidemma, "for i shall do all in my power to make them happy, which will be enough forisabella; and happiness must preclude false indulgence and physic." "and if you find them troublesome, you mustsend them home again." "that is very likely.you think so, do not you?" "i hope i am aware that they may be toonoisy for your father--or even may be some
encumbrance to you, if your visitingengagements continue to increase as much as they have done lately." "increase!""certainly; you must be sensible that the last half-year has made a great differencein your way of life." "difference! no indeed i am not.""there can be no doubt of your being much more engaged with company than you used tobe. witness this very time. here am i come down for only one day, andyou are engaged with a dinner-party!--when
did it happen before, or any thing like it?your neighbourhood is increasing, and you mix more with it. a little while ago, every letter toisabella brought an account of fresh gaieties; dinners at mr. cole's, or ballsat the crown. the difference which randalls, randallsalone makes in your goings-on, is very great.""yes," said his brother quickly, "it is randalls that does it all." "very well--and as randalls, i suppose, isnot likely to have less influence than heretofore, it strikes me as a possiblething, emma, that henry and john may be
sometimes in the way. and if they are, i only beg you to sendthem home." "no," cried mr. knightley, "that need notbe the consequence. let them be sent to donwell. i shall certainly be at leisure.""upon my word," exclaimed emma, "you amuse me! i should like to know how many of all mynumerous engagements take place without your being of the party; and why i am to besupposed in danger of wanting leisure to attend to the little boys.
these amazing engagements of mine--whathave they been? dining once with the coles--and having aball talked of, which never took place. i can understand you--(nodding at mr. johnknightley)--your good fortune in meeting with so many of your friends at once here,delights you too much to pass unnoticed. but you, (turning to mr. knightley,) whoknow how very, very seldom i am ever two hours from hartfield, why you shouldforesee such a series of dissipation for me, i cannot imagine. and as to my dear little boys, i must say,that if aunt emma has not time for them, i do not think they would fare much betterwith uncle knightley, who is absent from
home about five hours where she is absent one--and who, when he is at home, is eitherreading to himself or settling his accounts." mr. knightley seemed to be trying not tosmile; and succeeded without difficulty, upon mrs. elton's beginning to talk to him.