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Perhaps I was imagining it, but there seemed something more than an ill-judged civility in his words, perhaps the admiration of a man who hoped to be admitted as a suitor?
The latter would be interesting indeed! He has no hope of succeeding, but the very idea of his a.s.suming that he has a chance of success will teach Emma a lesson in humility which I can never hope to surpa.s.s.
What, Miss Woodhouse of Hartfield to marry Mr Elton! She would be horrified if she knew.
I mean to pay them close attention, and see how things develop!
DECEMBER.
Tuesday 1 December It seems that Emma's present interest in sketching is to last for a little longer, at least. I found her taking Harriet's likeness, as she had intended, when I called on her this morning. Elton, as is usual these days, was in attendance.
Mr Woodhouse and I withdrew for a time as I helped him to write some letters of business, and then we both returned to the drawing-room. We found Emma and her friend hard at work. Harriet was posing, and Emma's sketch was already well-developed.
Elton was standing behind Emma, fidgeting, and not knowing what to do with himself.
He spoke to me when I entered the room, seemingly glad of something to say.
'Miss Woodhouse has decided to paint her friend full-length, like the portrait of Mr John Knightley.'
I went over to Emma and looked at what she had done. Mrs Weston was watching the progress of the drawing, too, and her eye had not failed to see that Emma's portrait was flattering.
'Miss Woodhouse has given her friend the only beauty she wanted,' she said to Elton. 'The expression of the eye is most correct, but Harriet has not those eyebrows and eyelashes. It is the fault of her face that she has them not.'
'Do you think so?' he replied 'I cannot agree with you. It appears to me a most perfect resemblance in every feature. I never saw such a likeness in my life. We must allow for the effect of shade, you know.'
Something had to be done to counteract this flattery, and so I said: 'You have made her too tall, Emma.'
I could tell by her expression that she knew she had, but she would not admit it.
'Oh, no! certainly not too tall; not in the least too tall. Consider, she is sitting down--which naturally presents a different--which in short gives exactly the idea--and the proportions must be preserved, you know. Proportions, foreshortening. Oh, no! it gives one exactly the idea of such a height as Harriet's. Exactly so indeed!' said her would-be suitor.
'It is very pretty,' said Mr Woodhouse, always ready to praise his daughter. 'So prettily done! Just as your drawings always are, my dear. I do not know anybody who draws so well as you do. The only thing I do not thoroughly like is, that she seems to be sitting out of doors, with only a little shawl over her shoulders. It makes one think she must catch cold.'
'But, my dear Papa, it is supposed to be summer; a warm day in summer. Look at the tree.'
'But it is never safe to sit out of doors, my dear,' said he.
His is a nervous disposition indeed. It not only objects to people sitting out of doors, but it objects to them being drawn as if they were out of doors, when in reality they are sitting inside by a fire!
Elton plunged in again.
'You, sir, may say any thing,' he cried, 'but I must confess that I regard it as a most happy thought, the placing of Harriet out of doors; and the tree is touched with such inimitable spirit! Any other situation would have been much less in character. The naivety of Harriet's manners--and altogether--Oh, it is most admirable! I cannot keep my eyes from it. I never saw such a likeness.'
I did not know whether to be amused or exasperated by his nonsense, any more than I knew whether to be amused or exasperated by the way Emma received it. She took it all as compliments for her friend, little perceiving that the flattery was all for her. I am sure of it: Emma is Elton's object.
If she was not so young, and so dear to me, I would be amused and nothing else, but I am dismayed on Emma's behalf. She thinks she has only to throw Elton and Harriet together, and Harriet's pretty face will do the rest. But Elton will settle for a pretty fortune, rather than a pretty face, and oh! Emma, what will you think, when you perceive the truth?
'We must have it framed,' said Elton.
'Oh, yes, the very thing,' said Emma. 'It must be done well. I owe my friend no less.'
'Can you not ask Isabella to have it done in London?' asked Mrs Weston.
This Mr Woodhouse could not bear.
'She must not stir outside in the fogs of December. She will take cold. I am surprised at your thinking of it,' he said to Mrs Weston reproachfully. 'You would never have thought of such a thing if you had stayed here with us at Hartfield.'
Mrs Weston was admonished. I was about to offer my services, as I had to go to London, when Elton stepped in and offered to take it himself.
'You are too good,' said Emma, smiling all the while. 'I would not think of troubling you.'
'It is no trouble.'
'If you are sure, then it would be a relief to have someone of superior taste to undertake the commission,' she said, and I saw a look of pleasure cross his face. 'I would undertake to wrap the picture very well, so that it will not give you too much trouble.'
'No trouble is too much. That is to say it is no trouble, no trouble at all,' he said. Then finished with a sigh, saying: 'What a precious deposit!'
I thought he had gone too far, and I was sure Emma would balk at that, but though she looked rather surprised she said nothing.
I almost said something, but I decided against it, for no doubt the muddle will be cleared up soon. Harriet will take no hurt from it, for I am sure Emma will not have raised false hopes by mentioning her scheme to her friend--that would be going too far, even for Emma!--but there will be a reckoning with Elton, and I hope Emma will be chastened. Once she stops trying to live Elton's life, I hope she might put more effort into living her own.
Thursday 3 December I was more pleased than ever that Emma had given a little polish to Harriet, and that she had removed some of her schoolgirl habits, for I have had a very interesting visit from Robert Martin today. He called at Donwell Abbey this evening and he asked if I could spare him ten minutes. I told him that I could spare him as much time as he needed, thinking he had come to speak to me about the farm. I was much surprised, then, when he stood in front of my desk without any of his usual confidence, indeed much like a schoolboy standing in front of the desk of his master. He turned his hat in his hand as if he did not know where to begin, and I was astonished to see a slight flush spring to his cheek. The cause of his agitation soon became clear.
'I've come to ask for your advice, Mr Knightley,' he said.
'I will give you whatever help I can, Robert, you know that,' I said.
'Yes, I do.'
'What is the matter?' I asked him, to help him on his way.
'It is this way,' he said, then added, not very helpfully: 'I trust your judgement, Mr Knightley. You've helped me many a time in the past, and I hope you can help me now.' He cleared his throat, and I wondered if he would ever get to the point. 'I am beforehand with the world, and doing well with the farm. My mother and sisters want for nothing, I've seen to that.'
I said nothing, wondering where all this was leading.
'Well, Mr Knightley, the thing is this. I am of an age to marry, and being so well set up with the farm, and after seeing Harriet--that is, Miss Smith--and her being so pretty and well-spoken, and being a good friend of my sisters, and a favourite with my mother--that is, I am not marrying her for my mother or my sisters but for myself, because a man needs a wife and I am a man--'
He stopped, having tied himself in knots, and I could feel some sympathy for him. I remembered how it was with John, when he proposed to Isabella. He, too, was like a schoolboy when he left the Abbey that morning. His air of address had completely deserted him.
'You do not need my permission to marry, Robert,' I said, as he paused.
'No, Mr Knightley, I know that, I need no man's permission, but I was just wanting a bit of advice. I was wondering what you would think of me marrying so young, and whether you think I would be wrong to ask Miss Smith, as she is so young, too. And then...' He went as red as a turkey-c.o.c.k. 'The thing is, Mr Knightley, Miss Smith being a friend of Miss Woodhouse's, and being so pretty and all, I was wondering if she wasn't too far above me?'
I was astounded! A penniless girl with no name, being above an honest farmer? A man with a comfortable living and a good name in the neighbourhood?
'Not at all,' I told him. I felt I should offer a word of caution. 'As long as you are sure you can afford it?'
'Oh, yes, I've been into all that, and I've talked it over with my mother and sisters, too. They're as eager for it as I am.'
'Then I advise you to marry Miss Smith, with my blessing. She is a pretty young woman with a very sweet nature and, moreover, she seemed to be very contented when I saw her at Abbey Mill Farm. I am sure you will be very happy together.'
'Thank you, Mr Knightley,' he said, with a smile spreading across his face. 'She's the prettiest thing I've ever seen, and she has such a taking way with her. I'll be a lucky man if she'll have me.'
And she will be a lucky girl when she marries you, I thought as he left the room.
It is a very pleasing solution to the situation! Emma's influence has improved Harriet, and made her more worthy of such a good and solid man, and once Emma knows her friend is to marry Robert Martin, all her nonsensical thoughts regarding Elton will be nipped in the bud. Neither Elton nor Harriet need ever know of the fate she had arranged for them.
Mrs Weston was right and I was wrong. I worried about nothing. This is a most happy conclusion to events.
Sat.u.r.day 5 December I cannot believe it was only yesterday that I was convinced a happy end was in view for Harriet: a poor girl, deposited in a school by unknown parents, to end up, not as an old maid, but as a happy and prosperous wife. And yet it has come to nothing. Because of Harriet? No, because of Emma! I have never been so out of charity with her in my life.
I called on her and her father this morning and, as her father went out for a walk, I felt I could give her an intimation of the good fortune about to befall her friend. To my astonishment, if not to say anger, she informed me that she already knew of it, and that Harriet had refused him!
I saw Emma's hand in it and, when challenged, it became clear that it was she who had been, not just a false advisor, but the princ.i.p.al in the affair.
'Mr Martin is a very respectable young man,' she said coolly, 'but I cannot admit him to be Harriet's equal.'
'Not her equal!' I exclaimed. 'No, he is not her equal indeed.' She could not see that Robert Martin was superior to Harriet in both sense and situation. 'It crossed my mind immediately that you would not regret your friend's leaving Highbury, for the sake of her being settled so well,' I went on. 'I remember saying to myself, "Even Emma, with all her partiality for Harriet, will think this a good match." '
'I cannot help wondering at your knowing so little of Emma as to say any such thing,' she returned. 'What! think a farmer a good match for my intimate friend!'
'You had no business making her your intimate friend,' I returned angrily.
'You are not just to Harriet's claims,' she went on. 'Mr Martin may be the richer of the two, but he is undoubtedly the inferior as to rank in society. The sphere in which she moves is much above his. It would be a degradation.'
A degradation! For Harriet Smith, an illegitimate girl, to marry respectable Robert Martin! Emma has never been so foolish. If only I could think it was her youth that was to blame, but she is not a child any more, she is a young woman. She should know better.
' 'Til you chose to turn her into a friend, her mind had no distaste for her own set, nor any ambition beyond it,' I said angrily. 'She was as happy as possible with the Martins in the summer. You have been no friend to Harriet Smith, Emma. Robert Martin would never have proceeded so far, unless he had had encouragement.'
She did not reply, but I could see my words had given her pause. Good! It was a grave day's work, to separate two people who would have been happy together. And why? Because she thought Elton would offer for Harriet.
I felt sorry for her. She was unaware of the damage she was doing, because she was too confident of her powers, and did not know that she still had a lot to learn. I was worried at how much damage she might do before she saw her mistake, and I felt I had to give her a word of warning.
'As you make no secret of your love of matchmaking, it is fair to suppose that you have views, and plans, and projects, and as a friend I shall just hint to you that if Elton is the man, I think it will be all labour in vain.'
'I have no idea of Harriet's marrying Mr Elton,' she returned.
'Elton is a very good sort of man, and a very respectable vicar of Highbury, but not at all likely to make an imprudent match. He knows the value of a good income as well as anybody,' I said, to make sure she was under no illusions about him.
She disclaimed all thoughts of such a match, but from her uncomfortable manner, I could tell that that was what she had been hoping for. Foolish girl! With no more than twenty summers, to try to counsel a girl of seventeen! Better to say nothing and let Mrs G.o.ddard counsel Harriet, rather than apply her own influence so badly.
I felt sorry I had encouraged Robert Martin to propose. If I had known he would meet with rejection, I would not have done so. And to think that Emma was the cause of such unhappiness!
In an effort to put my ill-humour behind me I walked to Randalls. I hoped to see Weston as I had a matter of business to discuss with him, but he was not at home. Mrs Weston, however, bade me stay. Hardly had the tea been poured when Mrs Weston asked me what was the matter.
'What is always the matter?' I said. 'Emma! I knew how it would be. She has turned Harriet's head. She has filled it with nonsense, and now the poor girl has turned down a perfectly unexceptionable offer of marriage in the hope of marrying Mr Elton.'
'Mr Elton!' exclaimed Mrs Weston, astonished.
'Absurd, is it not! As if Elton would look at a parlour boarder, an illegitimate girl with no name, no connections and no dowry. Misery will be the end of it all.'
'Come, come,' said Mrs Weston. 'It surely cannot be as bad as that. If, as you say, Mr Elton will not look at Harriet--and I believe you are right--then Emma will soon see it.'
'And what of Robert Martin?'
She looked surprised, and I explained the whole. She was thoughtful, but then said: 'Mr Martin is a sensible man. If he truly loves Harriet, he will not be deterred by one setback.'
I was not so sanguine.
'A man has his pride,' I said. I drank my tea. 'If Emma could but meet someone who would interest her, she would forget all about Harriet Smith's prospects and start thinking about her own.'
Mr Weston came in, and after the three of us had taken tea together, Mr Weston and I retired to his study to discuss some business we had in hand. When we had done, I began to ask him about his son.
'Is there any news from Frank?' I asked.
'We had another letter only yesterday. He is very desirous of paying us a visit, but his time is taken up by Mrs Churchill. She rules the household with an iron hand, governing her husband entirely, and governing Frank, too.'
'So there is no news of his coming here yet?'
'He keeps hoping it will be possible, but something always happens to put the visit off. He is such a favourite with Mrs Churchill that his time is not his own. But I hope to see him here before long.'
Unfortunately, I doubt it. If Churchill cannot pay a visit to his father when his father marries, he must be a self-indulgent wastrel indeed, and I pity poor Weston his son.
Sunday 6 December I saw Emma at church today, and we exchanged a few words. She remarked on my absence from Hartfield, and I told her I had been busy. She did not appear to have got over her schemes, for after the service she went to congratulate Elton, telling him how much Miss Smith had enjoyed it. Elton did not know where to look or what to think. Hah! A fine muddle they are making of it all.
Tuesday 8 December I was glad to go to my whist club this evening. I had no inclination to go to Hartfield, and watch Emma make a fool of herself and her friend. Longridge was there, as well as Elton, Cole, Otway, Weston and the others.
'And how are you liking Highbury?' I asked Longridge, as the cards were dealt.
'Very much, thank you kindly. I have been thinking of leaving London for some time now--it has not been the same since my wife died--and Highbury seems a very agreeable place to settle. There is a deal of pretty countryside round about, some fine houses and superior company. I think I might settle here.'
The game began, and we gave our attention to our cards.
Afterwards, we discussed parish business, and I came home well-pleased with my evening. There is some sensible company in Highbury, at least.
Wednesday 9 December It was a bright but frosty morning and my ride round the estate was invigorating. The avenues were looking particularly attractive, with their branches coated in frost. It is a time of year I particularly like.
I noticed several things which needed attention, and I spoke to William Larkins about them. He wanted to postpone the work, as it was not urgent, but I wanted to have it done before Christmas.
I do not want John to think I have been neglecting Henry's inheritance, for it seems more and more likely that I will leave the Abbey to my nephew.