Miss Woodhouse made the proper acquiescence;and finding that nothing more was to be entrapped from any communication of Mrs. Cole’s, turned to Frank Churchill.
“Why do you smile?” said she.
“Nay, why do you?”
“Me!—I suppose I smile for pleasure at Colonel Campbell’s being so rich and so liberal.—It is a handsome present.”
“Very.”
“I rather wonder that it was never made before.”
“Perhaps Miss Fairfax has never been staying here so long before. ”
“Or that he did not give her the use of their own instrument—which must now be shut up in London, untouched by any body.”
“That is a grand pianoforte,and he might think it too large for Mrs. Bates’s house. ”
“You may _say_ what you chuse—but your countenance testifies that your _thoughts_ on this subject are very much like mine.”
“I do not know. I rather believe you are giving me more credit for acuteness than I deserve. I smile because you smile, and shall probably suspect whatever I find you suspect; but at present I do not see what there is to question. If Colonel Campbell is not the person, who can be?”
“What do you say to Mrs. Dixon?”
“Mrs. Dixon!very true indeed. I had not thought of Mrs. Dixon.She must know as well as her father,how acceptable an instrument would be;and perhaps the mode of it, the mystery, the surprize,is more like a young woman’s scheme than an elderly man’s.It is Mrs. Dixon, I dare say.I told you that your suspicions would guide mine.”
“If so, you must extend your suspicions and comprehend _Mr_. Dixon in them.”
“Mr. Dixon.—Very well. Yes,I immediately perceive that it must be the joint present of Mr.and Mrs. Dixon. We were speaking the other day,you know, of his being so warm an admirer of her performance. ”
“Yes, and what you told me on that head,confirmed an idea which I had entertained before.—I do not mean to reflect upon the good intentions of either Mr. Dixon or Miss Fairfax, but I cannot help suspecting either that, after making his proposals to her friend, he had the misfortune to fall in love with _her_, or that he became conscious of a little attachment on her side. One might guess twenty things without guessing exactly the right; but I am sure there must be a particular cause for her chusing to come to Highbury instead of going with the Campbells to Ireland. Here, she must be leading a life of privation and penance; there it would have been all enjoyment. As to the pretence of trying her native air, I look upon that as a mere excuse.—In the summer it might have passed; but what can any body’s native air do for them in the months of January, February, and March?Good fires and carriages would be much more to the purpose in most cases of delicate health, and I dare say in her’s. I do not require you to adopt all my suspicions, though you make so noble a profession of doing it, but I honestly tell you what they are.”
“And, upon my word, they have an air of great probability.Mr. Dixon’s preference of her music to her friend’s,I can answer for being very decided.”
“And then, he saved her life. Did you ever hear of that?—A water party; and by some accident she was falling overboard. He caught her.”
“He did. I was there—one of the party.”
“Were you really?—Well!—But you observed nothing of course,for it seems to be a new idea to you.—If I had been there,I think I should have made some discoveries.”
“I dare say you would; but I, simple I,saw nothing but the fact,that Miss Fairfax was nearly dashed from the vessel and that Mr.Dixon caught her.—It was the work of a moment.And though the consequent shock and alarm was very great and much more durable—indeed I believe it was half an hour before any of us were comfortable again—yet that was too general a sensation for any thing of peculiar anxiety to be observable. I do not mean to say, however, that you might not have made discoveries.”
The conversation was here interrupted.They were called on to share in the awkwardness of a rather long interval between the courses, and obliged to be as formal and as orderly as the others; but when the table was again safely covered, when every corner dish was placed exactly right, and occupation and ease were generally restored, Emma said,
“The arrival of this pianoforte is decisive with me.I wanted to know a little more,and this tells me quite enough. Depend upon it,we shall soon hear that it is a present from Mr. and Mrs. Dixon.”
“And if the Dixons should absolutely deny all knowledge of it we must conclude it to come from the Campbells.”
“No, I am sure it is not from the Campbells.Miss Fairfax knows it is not from the Campbells,or they would have been guessed at first.She would not have been puzzled,had she dared fix on them.I may not have convinced you perhaps,but I am perfectly convinced myself that Mr.Dixon is a principal in the business.”
“Indeed you injure me if you suppose me unconvinced.Your reasonings carry my judgment along with them entirely.At first, while I supposed you satisfied that Colonel Campbell was the giver,I saw it only as paternal kindness,and thought it the most natural thing in the world.But when you mentioned Mrs. Dixon,I felt how much more probable that it should be the tribute of warm female friendship. And now I can see it in no other light than as an offering of love.”
There was no occasion to press the matter farther.The conviction seemed real; he looked as if he felt it.She said no more, other subjects took their turn;and the rest of the dinner passed away;the dessert succeeded, the children came in,and were talked to and admired amid the usual rate of conversation;a few clever things said, a few downright silly,but by much the larger proportion neither the one nor the other—nothing worse than everyday remarks, dull repetitions, old news, and heavy jokes.
The ladies had not been long in the drawing-room,before the other ladies, in their different divisions,arrived. Emma watched the entree of her own particular little friend;and if she could not exult in her dignity and grace,she could not only love the blooming sweetness and the artless manner,but could most heartily rejoice in that light,cheerful, unsentimental disposition which allowed her so many alleviations of pleasure, in the midst of the pangs of disappointed affection. There she sat—and who would have guessed how many tears she had been lately shedding?To be in company, nicely dressed herself and seeing others nicely dressed,to sit and smile and look pretty, and say nothing,was enough for the happiness of the present hour.Jane Fairfax did look and move superior;but Emma suspected she might have been glad to change feelings with Harriet,very glad to have purchased the mortification of having loved—yes,of having loved even Mr.Elton in vain—by the surrender of all the dangerous pleasure of knowing herself beloved by the husband of her friend.
In so large a party it was not necessary that Emma should approach her.She did not wish to speak of the pianoforte,she felt too much in the secret herself,to think the appearance of curiosity or interest fair,and therefore purposely kept at a distance;but by the others, the subject was almost immediately introduced,and she saw the blush of consciousness with which congratulations were received, the blush of guilt which accompanied the name of “my excellent friend Colonel Campbell.”
Mrs. Weston, kind-hearted and musical,was particularly interested by the circumstance,and Emma could not help being amused at her perseverance in dwelling on the subject; and having so much to ask and to say as to tone, touch, and pedal, totally unsuspicious of that wish of saying as little about it as possible, which she plainly read in the fair heroine’s countenance.