“Upon my word,” exclaimed Emma, “you amuse me!I should like to know how many of all my numerous engagements take place without your being of the party;and why I am to be supposed in danger of wanting leisure to attend to the little boys.These amazing engagements of mine—what have they been?Dining once with the Coles—and having a ball talked of, which never took place.I can understand you—(nodding at Mr. John Knightley)—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,) who know how very,very seldom I am ever two hours from Hartfield,why you should foresee 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 better with Uncle Knightley,who is absent from home about five hours where she is absent one—and who, when he is at home,is either reading to himself or settling his accounts.”
Mr. Knightley seemed to be trying not to smile; and succeeded without difficulty, upon Mrs. Elton’s beginning to talk to him.
VOLUME III
CHAPTER I
A very little quiet reflection was enough to satisfy Emma as to the nature of her agitation on hearing this news of Frank Churchill.She was soon convinced that it was not for herself she was feeling at all apprehensive or embarrassed;it was for him. Her own attachment had really subsided into a mere nothing;it was not worth thinking of;—but if he,who had undoubtedly been always so much the most in love of the two,were to be returning with the same warmth of sentiment which he had taken away,it would be very distressing. If a separation of two months should not have cooled him,there were dangers and evils before her:—caution for him and for herself would be necessary.She did not mean to have her own affections entangled again,and it would be incumbent on her to avoid any encouragement of his.
She wished she might be able to keep him from an absolute declaration.That would be so very painful a conclusion of their present acquaintance!and yet, she could not help rather anticipating something decisive.She felt as if the spring would not pass without bringing a crisis, an event,a something to alter her present composed and tranquil state.
It was not very long, though rather longer than Mr. Weston had foreseen,before she had the power of forming some opinion of Frank Churchill’s feelings.The Enscombe family were not in town quite so soon as had been imagined,but he was at Highbury very soon afterwards. He rode down for a couple of hours;he could not yet do more; but as he came from Randalls immediately to Hartfield,she could then exercise all her quick observation, and speedily determine how he was influenced,and how she must act. They met with the utmost friendliness.There could be no doubt of his great pleasure in seeing her.But she had an almost instant doubt of his caring for her as he had done,of his feeling the same tenderness in the same degree. She watched him well.It was a clear thing he was less in love than he had been. Absence,with the conviction probably of her indifference,had produced this very natural and very desirable effect.
He was in high spirits; as ready to talk and laugh as ever,and seemed delighted to speak of his former visit, and recur to old stories:and he was not without agitation. It was not in his calmness that she read his comparative indifference.He was not calm; his spirits were evidently fluttered; there was restlessness about him.Lively as he was, it seemed a liveliness that did not satisfy himself;but what decided her belief on the subject, was his staying only a quarter of an hour,and hurrying away to make other calls in Highbury.“He had seen a group of old acquaintance in the street as he passed—he had not stopped,he would not stop for more than a word—but he had the vanity to think they would be disappointed if he did not call,and much as he wished to stay longer at Hartfield, he must hurry off.” She had no doubt as to his being less in love—but neither his agitated spirits,nor his hurrying away, seemed like a perfect cure;and she was rather inclined to think it implied a dread of her returning power,and a discreet resolution of not trusting himself with her long.
This was the only visit from Frank Churchill in the course of ten days. He was often hoping,intending to come—but was always prevented. His aunt could not bear to have him leave her.Such was his own account at Randall’s. If he were quite sincere, if he really tried to come,it was to be inferred that Mrs. Churchill’s removal to London had been of no service to the wilful or nervous part of her disorder.That she was really ill was very certain; he had declared himself convinced of it, at Randalls.Though much might be fancy, he could not doubt, when he looked back,that she was in a weaker state of health than she had been half a year ago.He did not believe it to proceed from any thing that care and medicine might not remove,or at least that she might not have many years of existence before her;but he could not be prevailed on, by all his father’s doubts,to say that her complaints were merely imaginary, or that she was as strong as ever.
It soon appeared that London was not the place for her. She could not endure its noise.Her nerves were under continual irritation and suffering; and by the ten days’ end,her nephew’s letter to Randalls communicated a change of plan.They were going to remove immediately to Richmond. Mrs.Churchill had been recommended to the medical skill of an eminent person there,and had otherwise a fancy for the place. A ready-furnished house in a favourite spot was engaged,and much benefit expected from the change.
Emma heard that Frank wrote in the highest spirits of this arrangement,and seemed most fully to appreciate the blessing of having two months before him of such near neighbourhood to many dear friends—for the house was taken for May and June. She was told that now he wrote with the greatest confidence of being often with them, almost as often as he could even wish.
Emma saw how Mr. Weston understood these joyous prospects.He was considering her as the source of all the happiness they offered. She hoped it was not so. Two months must bring it to the proof.
Mr. Weston’s own happiness was indisputable. He was quite delighted.It was the very circumstance he could have wished for. Now,it would be really having Frank in their neighbourhood. What were nine miles to a young man?—An hour’s ride. He would be always coming over.The difference in that respect of Richmond and London was enough to make the whole difference of seeing him always and seeing him never.Sixteen miles—nay, eighteen—it must be full eighteen to Manchester-street—was a serious obstacle.Were he ever able to get away, the day would be spent in coming and returning.There was no comfort in having him in London; he might as well be at Enscombe;but Richmond was the very distance for easy intercourse. Better than nearer!
One good thing was immediately brought to a certainty by this removal,—the ball at the Crown.It had not been forgotten before, but it had been soon acknowledged vain to attempt to fix a day.Now, however, it was absolutely to be; every preparation was resumed,and very soon after the Churchills had removed to Richmond, a few lines from Frank,to say that his aunt felt already much better for the change,and that he had no doubt of being able to join them for twenty-four hours at any given time,induced them to name as early a day as possible.
Mr. Weston’s ball was to be a real thing.A very few to-morrows stood between the young people of Highbury and happiness.
Mr. Woodhouse was resigned. The time of year lightened the evil to him.May was better for every thing than February. Mrs.Bates was engaged to spend the evening at Hartfield, James had due notice,and he sanguinely hoped that neither dear little Henry nor dear little John would have any thing the matter with them, while dear Emma were gone.
CHAPTER II
No misfortune occurred, again to prevent the ball. The day approached, the day arrived;and after a morning of some anxious watching, Frank Churchill,in all the certainty of his own self, reached Randalls before dinner, and every thing was safe.
No second meeting had there yet been between him and Emma. The room at the Crown was to witness it;—but it would be better than a common meeting in a crowd. Mr.Weston had been so very earnest in his entreaties for her arriving there as soon as possible after themselves,for the purpose of taking her opinion as to the propriety and comfort of the rooms before any other persons came,that she could not refuse him, and must therefore spend some quiet interval in the young man’s company.She was to convey Harriet, and they drove to the Crown in good time,the Randalls party just sufficiently before them.
Frank Churchill seemed to have been on the watch; and though he did not say much,his eyes declared that he meant to have a delightful evening. They all walked about together,to see that every thing was as it should be;and within a few minutes were joined by the contents of another carriage,which Emma could not hear the sound of at first, without great surprize. “So unreasonably early!” she was going to exclaim; but she presently found that it was a family of old friends,who were coming, like herself, by particular desire, to help Mr. Weston’s judgment;and they were so very closely followed by another carriage of cousins,who had been entreated to come early with the same distinguishing earnestness, on the same errand,that it seemed as if half the company might soon be collected together for the purpose of preparatory inspection.
Emma perceived that her taste was not the only taste on which Mr. Weston depended, and felt,that to be the favourite and intimate of a man who had so many intimates and confidantes,was not the very first distinction in the scale of vanity. She liked his open manners,but a little less of open-heartedness would have made him a higher character.—General benevolence,but not general friendship, made a man what he ought to be.—She could fancy such a man.The whole party walked about, and looked, and praised again; and then, having nothing else to do,formed a sort of half-circle round the fire, to observe in their various modes,till other subjects were started, that, though _May_,a fire in the evening was still very pleasant.
Emma found that it was not Mr. Weston’s fault that the number of privy councillors was not yet larger.They had stopped at Mrs. Bates’s door to offer the use of their carriage,but the aunt and niece were to be brought by the Eltons.
Frank was standing by her, but not steadily; there was a restlessness,which shewed a mind not at ease. He was looking about, he was going to the door,he was watching for the sound of other carriages,—impatient to begin, or afraid of being always near her.
Mrs. Elton was spoken of. “I think she must be here soon,” said he.“I have a great curiosity to see Mrs. Elton, I have heard so much of her. It cannot be long, I think, before she comes.”
A carriage was heard. He was on the move immediately; but coming back, said,
“I am forgetting that I am not acquainted with her. I have never seen either Mr. or Mrs. Elton.I have no business to put myself forward.”
Mr. and Mrs. Elton appeared; and all the smiles and the proprieties passed.
“But Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax!” said Mr. Weston, looking about. “We thought you were to bring them.”
The mistake had been slight. The carriage was sent for them now.Emma longed to know what Frank’s first opinion of Mrs. Elton might be;how he was affected by the studied elegance of her dress, and her smiles of graciousness.He was immediately qualifying himself to form an opinion, by giving her very proper attention, after the introduction had passed.
In a few minutes the carriage returned.—Somebody talked of rain.—“I will see that there are umbrellas,sir,” said Frank to his father: “Miss Bates must not be forgotten:” and away he went. Mr.Weston was following; but Mrs. Elton detained him, to gratify him by her opinion of his son;and so briskly did she begin, that the young man himself, though by no means moving slowly, could hardly be out of hearing.
“A very fine young man indeed, Mr. Weston.You know I candidly told you I should form my own opinion;and I am happy to say that I am extremely pleased with him.—You may believe me. I never compliment.I think him a very handsome young man, and his manners are precisely what I like and approve—so truly the gentleman,without the least conceit or puppyism. You must know I have a vast dislike to puppies—quite a horror of them.They were never tolerated at Maple Grove. Neither Mr.Suckling nor me had ever any patience with them; and we used sometimes to say very cutting things!Selina, who is mild almost to a fault, bore with them much better.”
While she talked of his son, Mr. Weston’s attention was chained; but when she got to Maple Grove,he could recollect that there were ladies just arriving to be attended to, and with happy smiles must hurry away.
Mrs. Elton turned to Mrs. Weston. “I have no doubt of its being our carriage with Miss Bates and Jane.Our coachman and horses are so extremely expeditious!—I believe we drive faster than any body.—What a pleasure it is to send one’s carriage for a friend!—I understand you were so kind as to offer, but another time it will be quite unnecessary.You may be very sure I shall always take care of _them_.”
Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax, escorted by the two gentlemen, walked into the room; and Mrs.Elton seemed to think it as much her duty as Mrs. Weston’s to receive them.Her gestures and movements might be understood by any one who looked on like Emma; but her words,every body’s words, were soon lost under the incessant flow of Miss Bates, who came in talking,and had not finished her speech under many minutes after her being admitted into the circle at the fire. As the door opened she was heard,
“So very obliging of you!—No rain at all. Nothing to signify. I do not care for myself. Quite thick shoes. And Jane declares—Well!—(as soon as she was within the door) Well!This is brilliant indeed!—This is admirable!—Excellently contrived, upon my word. Nothing wanting.Could not have imagined it.—So well lighted up!—Jane, Jane, look!—did you ever see any thing?Oh!Mr. Weston, you must really have had Aladdin’s lamp. Good Mrs.Stokes would not know her own room again. I saw her as I came in; she was standing in the entrance. ‘Oh!Mrs. Stokes,’ said I—but I had not time for more.” She was now met by Mrs. Weston.—“Very well,I thank you, ma’am. I hope you are quite well. Very happy to hear it. So afraid you might have a headache!—seeing you pass by so often, and knowing how much trouble you must have. Delighted to hear it indeed. Ah!dear Mrs. Elton, so obliged to you for the carriage!—excellent time. Jane and I quite ready. Did not keep the horses a moment. Most comfortable carriage.—Oh!and I am sure our thanks are due to you, Mrs. Weston, on that score. Mrs.Elton had most kindly sent Jane a note, or we should have been.—But two such offers in one day!—Never were such neighbours. I said to my mother, ‘Upon my word, ma’am—.’ Thank you,my mother is remarkably well. Gone to Mr. Woodhouse’s.I made her take her shawl—for the evenings are not warm—her large new shawl— Mrs.Dixon’s wedding-present.—So kind of her to think of my mother!Bought at Weymouth, you know—Mr. Dixon’s choice. There were three others, Jane says,which they hesitated about some time. Colonel Campbell rather preferred an olive. My dear Jane, are you sure you did not wet your feet?—It was but a drop or two, but I am so afraid:—but Mr.Frank Churchill was so extremely—and there was a mat to step upon—I shall never forget his extreme politeness.—Oh!Mr. Frank Churchill, I must tell you my mother’s spectacles have never been in fault since;the rivet never came out again. My mother often talks of your good-nature. Does not she, Jane?—Do not we often talk of Mr. Frank Churchill?—Ah!here’s Miss Woodhouse.—Dear Miss Woodhouse, how do you do?—Very well I thank you, quite well. This is meeting quite in fairy-land!—Such a transformation!—Must not compliment, I know (eyeing Emma most complacently)—that would be rude—but upon my word,Miss Woodhouse, you do look—how do you like Jane’s hair?—You are a judge.—She did it all herself. Quite wonderful how she does her hair!—No hairdresser from London I think could.—Ah!Dr. Hughes I declare—and Mrs. Hughes. Must go and speak to Dr. and Mrs. Hughes for a moment.—How do you do?How do you do?—Very well, I thank you. This is delightful, is not it?—Where’s dear Mr. Richard?—Oh!there he is. Don’t disturb him. Much better employed talking to the young ladies. How do you do, Mr. Richard?—I saw you the other day as you rode through the town—Mrs. Otway, I protest!—and good Mr. Otway, and Miss Otway and Miss Caroline.—Such a host of friends!—and Mr. George and Mr. Arthur!—How do you do?How do you all do?—Quite well, I am much obliged to you. Never better.—Don’t I hear another carriage?—Who can this be?—very likely the worthy Coles.—Upon my word,this is charming to be standing about among such friends!And such a noble fire!—I am quite roasted. No coffee, I thank you, for me—never take coffee.—A little tea if you please, sir, by and bye,—no hurry—Oh!here it comes. Every thing so good!”
Frank Churchill returned to his station by Emma; and as soon as Miss Bates was quiet,she found herself necessarily overhearing the discourse of Mrs. Elton and Miss Fairfax,who were standing a little way behind her.—He was thoughtful. Whether he were overhearing too,she could not determine. After a good many compliments to Jane on her dress and look,compliments very quietly and properly taken, Mrs.Elton was evidently wanting to be complimented herself—and it was, “How do you like my gown?—How do you like my trimming?—How has Wright done my hair?”—with many other relative questions, all answered with patient politeness. Mrs. Elton then said,“Nobody can think less of dress in general than I do—but upon such an occasion as this,when every body’s eyes are so much upon me,and in compliment to the Westons—who I have no doubt are giving this ball chiefly to do me honour—I would not wish to be inferior to others.And I see very few pearls in the room except mine.—So Frank Churchill is a capital dancer,I understand.—We shall see if our styles suit.—A fine young man certainly is Frank Churchill. I like him very well.”
At this moment Frank began talking so vigorously,that Emma could not but imagine he had overheard his own praises, and did not want to hear more;—and the voices of the ladies were drowned for a while, till another suspension brought Mrs.Elton’s tones again distinctly forward.—Mr. Elton had just joined them, and his wife was exclaiming,
“Oh!you have found us out at last, have you, in our seclusion?—I was this moment telling Jane, I thought you would begin to be impatient for tidings of us.”
“Jane!”—repeated Frank Churchill, with a look of surprize and displeasure.—“That is easy—but Miss Fairfax does not disapprove it, I suppose.”
“How do you like Mrs. Elton?” said Emma in a whisper.
“Not at all.”
“You are ungrateful.”
“Ungrateful!—What do you mean?” Then changing from a frown to a smile—“No,do not tell me—I do not want to know what you mean.—Where is my father?—When are we to begin dancing?”
Emma could hardly understand him; he seemed in an odd humour. He walked off to find his father,but was quickly back again with both Mr. and Mrs. Weston.He had met with them in a little perplexity, which must be laid before Emma.It had just occurred to Mrs. Weston that Mrs. Elton must be asked to begin the ball;that she would expect it; which interfered with all their wishes of giving Emma that distinction.—Emma heard the sad truth with fortitude.
“And what are we to do for a proper partner for her?” said Mr. Weston. “She will think Frank ought to ask her.”
Frank turned instantly to Emma, to claim her former promise; and boasted himself an engaged man,which his father looked his most perfect approbation of—and it then appeared that Mrs.Weston was wanting _him_ to dance with Mrs. Elton himself,and that their business was to help to persuade him into it, which was done pretty soon.—Mr.Weston and Mrs. Elton led the way, Mr. Frank Churchill and Miss Woodhouse followed.Emma must submit to stand second to Mrs. Elton,though she had always considered the ball as peculiarly for her.It was almost enough to make her think of marrying. Mrs. Elton had undoubtedly the advantage,at this time, in vanity completely gratified;for though she had intended to begin with Frank Churchill, she could not lose by the change. Mr.Weston might be his son’s superior.—In spite of this little rub, however,Emma was smiling with enjoyment, delighted to see the respectable length of the set as it was forming,and to feel that she had so many hours of unusual festivity before her.—She was more disturbed by Mr.Knightley’s not dancing than by any thing else.—There he was, among the standers-by,where he ought not to be; he ought to be dancing,—not classing himself with the husbands,and fathers, and whist-players, who were pretending to feel an interest in the dance till their rubbers were made up, —so young as he looked!—He could not have appeared to greater advantage perhaps anywhere, than where he had placed himself.His tall, firm, upright figure, among the bulky forms and stooping shoulders of the elderly men,was such as Emma felt must draw every body’s eyes; and, excepting her own partner,there was not one among the whole row of young men who could be compared with him.—He moved a few steps nearer,and those few steps were enough to prove in how gentlemanlike a manner, with what natural grace,he must have danced, would he but take the trouble.—Whenever she caught his eye,she forced him to smile; but in general he was looking grave.She wished he could love a ballroom better,and could like Frank Churchill better.—He seemed often observing her.She must not flatter herself that he thought of her dancing,but if he were criticising her behaviour, she did not feel afraid.There was nothing like flirtation between her and her partner. They seemed more like cheerful,easy friends, than lovers. That Frank Churchill thought less of her than he had done, was indubitable.
The ball proceeded pleasantly. The anxious cares, the incessant attentions of Mrs. Weston,were not thrown away. Every body seemed happy; and the praise of being a delightful ball,which is seldom bestowed till after a ball has ceased to be,was repeatedly given in the very beginning of the existence of this. Of very important,very recordable events, it was not more productive than such meetings usually are. There was one,however, which Emma thought something of.—The two last dances before supper were begun,and Harriet had no partner;—the only young lady sitting down;—and so equal had been hitherto the number of dancers,that how there could be any one disengaged was the wonder!—But Emma’s wonder lessened soon afterwards, on seeing Mr. Elton sauntering about.He would not ask Harriet to dance if it were possible to be avoided:she was sure he would not—and she was expecting him every moment to escape into the card-room.
Escape, however, was not his plan. He came to the part of the room where the sitters-by were collected,spoke to some, and walked about in front of them, as if to shew his liberty,and his resolution of maintaining it. He did not omit being sometimes directly before Miss Smith,or speaking to those who were close to her.—Emma saw it. She was not yet dancing;she was working her way up from the bottom, and had therefore leisure to look around,and by only turning her head a little she saw it all. When she was half-way up the set,the whole group were exactly behind her, and she would no longer allow her eyes to watch; but Mr.Elton was so near, that she heard every syllable of a dialogue which just then took place between him and Mrs.Weston; and she perceived that his wife, who was standing immediately above her,was not only listening also, but even encouraging him by significant glances.—The kind-hearted,gentle Mrs. Weston had left her seat to join him and say, “Do not you dance, Mr. Elton?” to which his prompt reply was, “Most readily, Mrs. Weston, if you will dance with me.”
“Me!—oh!no—I would get you a better partner than myself. I am no dancer.”
“If Mrs. Gilbert wishes to dance,” said he, “I shall have great pleasure, I am sure—for,though beginning to feel myself rather an old married man, and that my dancing days are over,it would give me very great pleasure at any time to stand up with an old friend like Mrs. Gilbert.”
“Mrs. Gilbert does not mean to dance, but there is a young lady disengaged whom I should be very glad to see dancing—Miss Smith. ” “Miss Smith!—oh!—I had not observed.—You are extremely obliging—and if I were not an old married man.—But my dancing days are over,Mrs. Weston. You will excuse me. Any thing else I should be most happy to do,at your command—but my dancing days are over.”
Mrs. Weston said no more; and Emma could imagine with what surprize and mortification she must be returning to her seat. This was Mr. Elton!the amiable, obliging, gentle Mr. Elton.—She looked round for a moment; he had joined Mr.Knightley at a little distance, and was arranging himself for settled conversation,while smiles of high glee passed between him and his wife.
She would not look again. Her heart was in a glow, and she feared her face might be as hot.
In another moment a happier sight caught her;—Mr. Knightley leading Harriet to the set!—Never had she been more surprized, seldom more delighted, than at that instant.She was all pleasure and gratitude, both for Harriet and herself, and longed to be thanking him;and though too distant for speech, her countenance said much,as soon as she could catch his eye again.
His dancing proved to be just what she had believed it, extremely good;and Harriet would have seemed almost too lucky,if it had not been for the cruel state of things before,and for the very complete enjoyment and very high sense of the distinction which her happy features announced.It was not thrown away on her, she bounded higher than ever, flew farther down the middle,and was in a continual course of smiles.
Mr. Elton had retreated into the card-room, looking (Emma trusted) very foolish.She did not think he was quite so hardened as his wife, though growing very like her;—_she_ spoke some of her feelings, by observing audibly to her partner,
“Knightley has taken pity on poor little Miss Smith!—Very good-natured, I declare.”
Supper was announced. The move began; and Miss Bates might be heard from that moment,without interruption, till her being seated at table and taking up her spoon.