Emma (40 page)

“I honestly said as much to Mr E. when he was speaking of my future home, and expressing his fears lest the retirement of it should be disagreeable, and the inferiority of the house too—knowing what I had been accustomed to—of course he was not wholly without apprehension. When he was speaking of it in that way, I honestly said that
the
world
I could give up—parties, balls, plays—for I had no fear of retirement. Blessed with so many resources within myself, the world was not necessary to
me
. I could do very well without it. To those who had no resources it was a different thing, but my resources made me quite independent. And as to smaller-sized rooms than I had been 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 every luxury at Maple Grove, but I did assure him that two carriages were not necessary to my happiness, nor were spacious apartments. ‘But,’ said I, ‘to be quite honest, I do not 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 society in Highbury, and I hope you will not find he has outstepped the truth more than may be pardoned, in consideration of the motive.”

“No, indeed, I have no doubts at all on that head. I am delighted to find myself in such a circle. I hope we shall have many sweet little concerts together. I think, Miss Woodhouse, you and I must establish 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 shall not be long in want of allies. Something of that nature would be particularly desirable for
me
, as an inducement to keep me in practice, for married 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—never touches 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 James Cooper, and of more than I can enumerate. Upon my word, it is enough to put one in a fright. I used to be quite angry with Selina, but really I begin now to comprehend that a married woman has many things to call her attention. I believe I was half an hour this morning shut up with my housekeeper.”

“But everything of that kind,” said Emma, “will soon be in so regular a train—”

“Well,” said Mrs Elton, laughing, “we shall see.”

Emma, finding her so determined upon neglecting her music, had nothing more to say, and after a moment’s pause, Mrs Elton chose another subject.

“We have been calling at Randalls,” said she, “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 is something 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 to answer, 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 the other 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 often mentioned, that I was really impatient to see him, and I must do my
caro sposo
the justice 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-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, with her Mr E., and her
caro
sposo
, and her resources, and all her airs of pert pretension and underbred finery. Actually to discover that Mr Knightley is a gentleman! I doubt whether he will return the compliment, and discover her to be a lady. I could not have believed it! And to propose that she and I should unite to form a musical club! One would fancy we were bosom friends! And Mrs Weston! Astonished that the person 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 her thoughts, that by the time her father had arranged himself, after the bustle of the Eltons’ departure, and was ready to speak, she was very tolerably capable of attending.

“Well, my dear,” he deliberately began, “considering we never saw her before, she seems a very pretty sort of young lady, and I 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 like strange 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 not having been able to wait on him and Mrs Elton on this happy occasion, I said that I hoped 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 shows 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 be so 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 anybody to marry, but I would always wish to pay every proper attention to a lady—and a bride 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 who they may.”

“Well, papa, if this is not encouragement to marry, I do not know what is. And I should never have expected you to be lending 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 do with any encouragement to people to marry.”

Emma had done. Her father was growing nervous, and could not understand
her
. Her mind returned to Mrs Elton’s offences, and long, very long, did they occupy her.

Chapter Fifteen

Emma was not required, by any subsequent discovery, to retract her ill opinion of Mrs Elton. Her observation had been pretty correct. Such as Mrs Elton appeared to her on this second interview, such she appeared whenever they met again, self-important, presuming, familiar, ignorant, and ill-bred. She had a little beauty and a little accomplishment, but so little judgement that she thought herself coming with superior knowledge of the world to enliven and improve a country neighbourhood, and conceived Miss Hawkins to have held such a place 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, but proud. He had the air of congratulating himself on having brought such a woman to Highbury as not even Miss Woodhouse could equal. The greater part of her new acquaintance—disposed to commend, or not in the habit of judging, following the lead of Miss Bates’ goodwill, or taking it for granted that the bride must be as clever and as agreeable as she professed herself—were very well satisfied. So Mrs Elton’s praise passed from one mouth to another as it ought to do, unimpeded by Miss Woodhouse, who readily continued her first contribution and talked with a good grace of her being “very pleasant and very elegantly dressed”.

In one respect Mrs Elton grew even worse than she had appeared at first. Her feelings altered towards Emma. Offended probably by the little encouragement which her proposals of intimacy met with, she drew back in her turn and gradually became much more cold and distant, and though the effect was agreeable, 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’s cure, 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 in the story, under a colouring the least favourable to her and the most soothing to him, had in all likelihood been given also. She 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 the enmity which they dared not show in open disrespect to her, found a broader vent in contemptuous treatment of Harriet.

Mrs Elton took a great fancy to Jane Fairfax, and from the first. Not merely when a state of warfare with one young lady might be supposed to recommend the other, but from the very first, and she was not satisfied with expressing a natural and reasonable admiration—but without solicitation, or plea, or privilege, she must be wanting to assist and befriend her. Before Emma had forfeited her confidence, and about the third time of their meeting, she heard all Mrs Elton’s knight-errantry on the subject.

“Jane Fairfax is absolutely charming, Miss Woodhouse. I quite rave about Jane Fairfax. A sweet, interesting creature. So mild and ladylike—and with such talents! 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 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. And her situation is so calculated to affect one! Miss Woodhouse, we must exert ourselves and endeavour to do something for her. We must bring her forward. Such talent as hers must not be suffered to remain unknown. I dare say you have heard those charming lines of the poet,

Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,

And waste its fragrance on the desert air.

We must not allow them to be verified in sweet 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’s situation and understand what her home has been, with Colonel and Mrs Campbell, I have no idea that you will suppose her talents can be unknown.”

“Oh! But dear Miss Woodhouse, she is now in such retirement, such obscurity, so thrown away. Whatever advantages she may have enjoyed 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 I am sure one does not often meet with it. But in those who are at all inferior, it is extremely prepossessing. Oh! I assure you, Jane Fairfax is a very delightful character, and interests me more than I can express.”

“You appear to feel a great deal—but I am not aware how you or any of Miss Fairfax’s acquaintance here, any of those who have known her longer than yourself, can show her any other attention than—”

“My dear Miss Woodhouse, a vast deal may be done by those who dare to act. You and I need not be afraid. If
we
set the example, many will follow it as far as they can, though all have not our situations.
We
have carriages to fetch and convey her home, and
we
live in a style which could not make the addition of Jane Fairfax, at any time, the least inconvenient. I should be extremely displeased if Wright were to send us up such a dinner, as could make me regret 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, in housekeeping, may be quite the other way, in doing too much, and being too careless of expense. Maple Grove will probably be my model more than 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 her talents, and shall be constantly on the watch for an eligible situation. My acquaintance is so very extensive that I have little doubt of hearing of something to suit her shortly. I shall introduce her, of course, very particularly to my brother and sister when they come to us. I am sure they will like her extremely, and when 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 while they are with me, and I dare say we shall sometimes find a seat for her in the barouche-landau in some of our exploring parties.”