Chapter XIII

Emma had great pleasure in hearing Frank Churchill talked of; and, for his sake, greater pleasure than ever in seeing Mr. and Mrs. Weston; she was very often thinking of him, and quite impatient for a letter, that she might know how he was, how was his aunt, and what was the chance of his coming to Randalls again this spring. But, on the other hand, she could not admit herself to be unhappy.

“He is undoubtedly very much in love – everything denotes it – very much in love indeed!” said she. “And when he comes again, I must not encourage it. It would be most inexcusable to do otherwise. I must be on my guard. I do not know what to expect. They say everybody is in love once in their lives.”

When his letter to Mrs. Weston arrived, Emma read it with pleasure and admiration. It was a long, well-written letter, giving the particulars of his journey and of his feelings, expressing all the affection, gratitude, and respect which was natural and honourable.

She yet found, when the letter was folded up and returned to Mrs. Weston, that she could still live without the writer.

Meantime Mr. Elton’s wedding-day was named. He would soon be among them again; Mr. Elton and his bride. “Mr. Elton and his bride” was in everybody’s mouth, and Frank Churchill was forgotten. Emma had had three happy weeks without Mr. Elton; and Harriet’s mind had been gaining strength.

Poor Harriet! Emma attacked her:

“You are so occupied and so unhappy about Mr. Elton’s marrying, Harriet. It is the strongest reproach you can make me… You could not give me a greater reproof for the mistake I fell into. It was all my doing, I know. I have not forgotten it, I assure you. Deceived myself, I did very miserably deceive you – and it will be a painful reflection to me for ever.”

Harriet uttered a few words of eager exclamation. Emma continued,

“I have not said, dear Harriet, think less, talk less of Mr. Elton for my sake. I want you to save yourself from pain.”

“You are the best friend I ever had in my life!” said Harriet. “Nobody is equal to you! I care for nobody as I do for you! Oh! Miss Woodhouse, how ungrateful I have been!”

Emma felt that she had never loved Harriet so well, nor valued her affection so highly before.

“Dear Harriet!” said she afterwards to herself. “There is nobody to be compared to her. Warmth and tenderness of heart, with an affectionate, open manner! I would not change you, Harriet, for nobody. Oh! The coldness of a Jane Fairfax! Harriet is worth a hundred such!”

Chapter XIV

Mrs. Elton was first seen at church. Afterwards Emma and Harriet decided to visit the house which belonged to Mr. Elton. The visit was of course short; and there was so much embarrassment and occupation of mind to shorten it, that Emma would not form an opinion of the lady. “Elegantly dressed, and very pleasing.”

She did not really like her. She suspected that there was no elegance; ease, but not elegance. And Emma was almost sure that for a young woman, a stranger, a bride, there was too much ease. Her person was rather good; her face not unpretty; but neither feature, nor air, nor voice, nor manner, were elegant.

“Well, Miss Woodhouse,” said Harriet, when they had quitted the house; “Well, Miss Woodhouse, (with a gentle sigh) what do you think of her? Is not she very charming?”

There was a little hesitation in Emma’s answer.

“Oh! yes – very – a very pleasing young woman.”

“I think her beautiful, quite beautiful.”

“Very nicely dressed, indeed; a remarkably elegant gown.”

“I am not at all surprized that he had fallen in love.”

“Oh! no – there is nothing to surprize one at all. – A pretty fortune.”

“I dare say,” returned Harriet, sighing again, “I dare say she was very much attached to him.”

“Perhaps. Miss Hawkins perhaps wanted a home, and thought this the best offer she was likely to have.”

“Yes,” said Harriet earnestly. “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 being married, you know, it is quite a different thing. No, indeed, Miss Woodhouse, you need not be afraid; I can sit and admire him now without any great misery. She seems a charming young woman, just what he deserves. He called her ‘Augusta.’ How delightful!”

When the visit was returned, Emma made up her mind. Her father engaged Mr. Elton, and the quarter of an hour with Mrs. Elton quite convinced her that ‘Augusta’ was a vain woman, extremely well satisfied with herself, and thinking much of her own importance; that she meant to shine and be very superior, but with manners which had been formed in a bad school, pert and familiar; that if not foolish she was ignorant, and that her society would certainly do Mr. Elton no good. Harriet would have been a better match. If not wise or refined herself, she would have connected him with those who were; but Miss Hawkins had been the best of her own society. The rich brother-in-law near Bristol was her pride, and his place and his carriages were the pride of him.

“My brother and sister have promised us a visit in the spring, or summer,” said Mrs. Elton; “and while they are with us, we shall explore a great deal, I dare say. They will have their barouche-landau, of course, and therefore we should be able to explore the different beauties extremely well. They would hardly come in their chaise, I think, at that season of the year. Indeed, I shall decidedly recommend their bringing the barouche-landau; it will be so very much preferable. You have many parties of that kind here, I suppose, Miss Woodhouse, every summer?”

“No; not here. We are rather far from the beauties which attract the sort of parties you speak of; and we are very quiet people, I believe; disposed to stay at home.”

“Ah! Nobody can be more devoted to home than I am. I perfectly understand your situation, however, Miss Woodhouse (looking towards Mr. Woodhouse), your father’s state of health must be a great drawback. Why does not he try Bath? Indeed he should. 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.”

“Ah! that’s a great pity; for I assure you, Miss Woodhouse, Bath is so cheerful a place! The advantages of Bath to the young are pretty generally understood. It would be a charming introduction for you, who have lived so secluded a life. A line from me would bring you some acquaintances.”

It was more than Emma could bear. “An introduction!” Emma thanked Mrs. Elton coolly; “but their going to Bath was quite out of the question; and she was not perfectly convinced that the place might suit her better than her father.” And she changed the subject.

“Have you been to Randalls?”

“Yes, Mr. Weston seems an excellent creature, I assure you. And Mrs. Weston appears so truly good. She was your governess, I think?”

Emma was too much astonished to answer; but Mrs. Elton went on.

“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. How could she possibly guess?

“Knightley!” continued Mrs. Elton; “Knightley himself! Was not it lucky? I had never seen him before. Knightley is quite the gentleman. I like him very much. Decidedly, I think, a very gentleman-like man.”

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! And discover that he is a gentleman! A little upstart, vulgar being.”

Chapter XV

Emma’s observation had been pretty correct. Mrs. Elton appeared to be self-important, presuming, familiar, ignorant, and ill-bred. But Mr. Elton seemed not merely happy with her, but proud. He was happy to bring such a woman to Highbury.

In one respect Mrs. Elton grew even worse than she had appeared at first. Her feelings altered towards Emma. She became much more cold and distant; and the effect was necessarily increasing Emma’s dislike. Her manners, too, and Mr. Elton’s, were unpleasant towards Harriet. They were sneering and negligent. It was not to be doubted that poor Harriet’s attachment had been laughed at. Emma was, of course, the object of their joint dislike. When they had nothing else to say, it must be always easy to begin abusing Miss Woodhouse and Harriet.

Mrs. Elton took a great fancy to Jane Fairfax; and from the first. Before Emma had forfeited her confidence, and about the third time of their meeting, she heard all Mrs. Elton’s thoughts:

“Jane Fairfax is absolutely charming, Miss Woodhouse. A sweet, interesting creature. So mild and ladylike – and with such talents! I assure you I think she has very extraordinary talents. She plays extremely well. I know enough of music to speak decidedly on that point. Oh! she is absolutely charming! You will laugh at my warmth – but, upon my word, I talk of nothing but Jane Fairfax. Miss Woodhouse, we must do something for her. We must bring her forward. Such talent as hers must not be suffered to remain unknown. Dear Miss Woodhouse, she is now in such retirement, such obscurity, so thrown away. 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. Oh! I assure you, Jane Fairfax is a very delightful character, and interests me more than I can express.”

“Poor Jane Fairfax!” thought Emma. “You have not deserved this. This is a punishment beyond what you can have merited! The kindness and protection of Mrs. Elton! ‘Jane Fairfax and Jane Fairfax.’ Heavens! Let me not suppose that she dares say ‘Emma Woodhouse’ about me!”

Miss Bates’s gratitude for Mrs. Elton’s attentions to Jane was great. She was the most amiable, affable, delightful woman for her. But Emma’s only surprise was that Jane Fairfax accepted those attentions and tolerated 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! Emma could not believe that the taste or the pride of Miss Fairfax could endure such society and friendship.

Mrs. Weston who knew Emma’s opinion of Mrs. Elton found the apology for Jane:

“We cannot suppose that she has any great enjoyment 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.”

“You are right, Mrs. Weston,” said Mr. Knightley warmly, “Miss Fairfax (with a reproachful smile at Emma) receives attentions from Mrs. Elton, which nobody else pays her.”

With a faint blush, Emma replied,

“Such attentions as Mrs. Elton’s, I can imagine, would rather disgust than gratify Miss Fairfax.”

“Mrs. Elton does not talk to Miss Fairfax as she speaks of her,” said Mr. Knightley. “Mrs. Elton treats her with all the respect which she deserves. Mrs. Elton probably has never met such a woman as Jane Fairfax.”

“I know how highly you think of Jane Fairfax,” said Emma.

“Yes,” he replied, “anybody may know how highly I think of her.”

“And yet,” said Emma – it was better, however, to know the worst at once – she hurried on – “And yet, perhaps, you may hardly be aware yourself how highly it is.”

These words brought the colour into Mr. Knightley’s face, as he answered,

“Oh! Are you really talking about that? That will never be, however, I can assure you. Miss Fairfax, I dare say, would not marry if I were to ask her – and I am very sure I shall never ask her.”

Emma was pleased enough to exclaim,

“You are not vain, Mr. Knightley.”

“So you were thinking I was going to marry Jane Fairfax?”

“No indeed I was not. What I said just now, meant nothing. Oh! no, upon my word I have not the smallest wish for your marrying Jane Fairfax. You would not come in and sit with us, if you were married.”

Mr. Knightley was thoughtful again.

“No, Emma, I never had a thought of her in that way, I assure you.” And soon afterwards, “Jane Fairfax is a very charming young woman – but not even Jane Fairfax is perfect. She has a fault. She has not the open temper.”

Emma rejoiced to hear that Jane Fairfax had a fault.

“Well, Mrs. Weston,” said Emma triumphantly when he left them, “what do you say now to Mr. Knightley’s marrying Jane Fairfax?”

“Why, really, dear Emma, I say that he is so very much occupied by the idea of not being in love with her, that I should not wonder if it were to end in his being so at last. Do not beat me.”