"I am happy you approved, but I hope I am not often deficient in what is due to guests at Hartfield," she said, rebuking me.
I let it pass. I encouraged her to talk of Jane Fairfax, saying that she had seemed pleased with Miss
Fairfax.
"I was pleased with my own perseverance in asking questions, and amused to think how little information I obtained," she returned saucily.
I was disappointed she had not liked Jane more.
"She must have found the evening agreeable, Mr. Knightley," said Mr. Woodhouse, "because she had Emma."
"And Emma because she had Miss Fairfax."
I was gratified to hear Emma say: "She is a sort of elegant creature that one cannot keep one’s eyes from. I am always watching her to admire; and I do pity her from my heart."
I was so warmed by this generous tribute that I was reminded of my news, and I resolved to speak at once, so that I could prepare Emma for the shock, but at that minute Miss Bates and her niece were announced and my chance was lost.
I had to listen as Miss Bates said: "Oh! my dear sir, how are you this morning? Yes, very well, I thank you. My dear Miss Woodhouse - I come quite overpowered. Such a beautiful hindquarter of pork! You are too bountiful! Have you heard the news? Mr. Elton is going to be married."
And so Emma heard about the death of her schemes, along with Miss Bates’s health and a discussion of a hindquarter of pork. She was surprised; she blushed; but she took it well.
"There is my news: I thought it would interest you," I said to her.
The subject furnished our talk for the rest of the morning. Elton was described to Miss Fairfax, who said very little, and I began to realize why Emma thought her reserved. But I think her merely quiet. It is a result, no doubt, of her present unsettled situation. Her poor health can, I am sure, be attributed to the same cause.
Fortunately, Emma did not appear unduly distressed, and this led me to believe that news of Elton’s marriage was not wholly unexpected. She must have already known that he would never marry Harriet, and I found myself wondering again what exactly had happened in the carriage on Christmas Eve. Had he said so? Had he been horrified at the suggestion? Had he proposed to Emma? I wished I knew.
Meanwhile, Miss Bates was still talking of Elton.
"I always fancied he would marry a local young lady, some young lady hereabouts; not that I ever - Mrs. Cole once whispered to me - but I immediately said, “No, Mr. Elton is a most worthy young man - but” - In short, I do not think I am particularly quick at those sorts of discoveries. I do not pretend to it. What is before me, I see. At the same time, nobody could wonder if Mr. Elton should have aspired..."
Emma was growing more and more uncomfortable, and at last Miss Bates perceived it.
"Miss Woodhouse lets me chatter on, so good-humouredly. She knows I would not offend for the world."
And indeed she would not, but her tongue is so rapid, she blunders before she knows what she is saying.
I looked at Emma, but she merely smiled, as though nothing untoward had been said.
It cannot have been easy for her to listen to Miss Bates suggesting, in her artless way, that Mr. Elton had aspired to her hand. It must have been even harder for her to think that the whole village knew of it. But she bore it well. Bravo, Emma!
Miss Bates herself realized the conversation was not well-chosen and started another thread, only this one was unfortunately no more happy than the last.
"How does Harriet do?" she asked. "She seems quite recovered now."
Emma said that she was, but I pitied her, as I saw from her blush that she remembered her folly with regard to her friend.
And then at last Miss Bates hit on a topic that could not fail to please everyone in the room.
"Have you heard from Mrs. John Knightley lately? Oh! those dear little children. Jane, do you know I always fancy Mr. Dixon like Mr. John Knightley? I mean in person - tall, and with that sort of look - and not very talkative."
Elton was forgotten, and before long Miss Bates was rising to leave. I encouraged her. I felt that Emma had suffered enough for one morning.
Miss Fairfax being tired, I offered her my arm, as I, too, was leaving. She took it gladly.
I barely felt her weight, she is grown so thin. I am glad that Perry has seen her, to make sure there is nothing more seriously wrong with her than a cold. I must redouble my efforts to help her. I would not see her fade away for the want of a friend, and, perhaps one day, I might be something more.
I escorted her and her aunt back to their home, which we reached just as it was coming on to rain, and Miss Bates pressed me to come inside until it stopped. I was happy to do so.
I took the opportunity of talking to Miss Fairfax about books, about music, about her friends the Campbells, in short about anything and everything, but she said very little. It was much more difficult for me to converse with her than it was for me to converse with Emma, but allowances must be made for shyness. She has only just returned to Highbury, after all.
Once the weather improved I set off for the Abbey, and having some business at Ford’s, I passed through Highbury. I had almost reached the shop when I saw an interesting thing. Harriet Smith emerged from the door and set off towards Hartfield. Not a moment later, Robert Martin appeared and ran after her. They talked for a minute, and then Harriet set off in a different direction, taking the road past Mr. Cole’s stables. From the hesitations and embarrassment apparent on both sides, it seemed they were not comfortable with each other, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that they were not comfortable with the situation. With each other, if left to their own devices, I think they could be very comfortable indeed.
Friday 29 January
I called at Abbey Mill Farm today. Robert Martin was not at home, but Mrs. Martin made me welcome and asked me if I would wait. I said I would, and after the usual pleasantries and comments on the farm, I remarked that it had been fortunate for Miss Smith to see Robert the previous day, as he had been able to warn her away from the flooded path. Mrs. Martin was at first rather cold, saying she hoped her son always remembered his manners, but she soon warmed to her theme and it became clear that she was still very fond of Miss Smith.
"Such a nicely spoken young lady, and so well-read," remarked Mrs. Martin. "She recommended The Romance of the Forest to us, and we"ve all read it, even Robert. I am reading Children of the Abbey at present, another book Miss Smith recommended. I"ve not been able to get near it until now, because my daughters have all been reading it, though Robert bought it before Christmas. “What a coincidence, it being about an abbey,” my oldest girl said. “And here are we, living at Abbey Mill Farm. We could be the children of the Abbey.” We all laughed at that. It was a pity Miss Smith wasn"t here; she would have enjoyed the joke."
Yes, I believe she would.
When Robert Martin returned, we took a tour of the farm and he showed me the improvements he intends to make. The farm is flourishing, and he hopes to make it more profitable next year. After hearing about his plans, I think he will succeed.
Saturday 30 January
A bright day. After the snow and the rain, it made a welcome change to see the sun. I fancied a break from my labours, and so I walked over to Hartfield to see Emma and her father. Perry was there, and whilst he sat with Mr. Woodhouse, Emma and I took a turn in the garden.
"Your little friend is not with you, I see," I remarked.
"No. She had some shopping to do, and I did not like to leave my father. The bad weather has depressed his spirits, and I played backgammon with him to pass the time until Perry arrived."
"I saw her the other day, outside Ford’s."
I thought Emma stiffened, but she replied coolly enough: "Oh?"
"Yes. She was just on her way to Hartfield, I think. She set off to go by the nearest route, but Robert Martin followed her out of the shop and recommended she take another way because the path was flooded."
"That was very good of him," she said lightly.
"Yes, it was. But then Robert Martin is a good man."
"I am sure he is. But not good enough for Harriet," she said.
"And how are your efforts to educate your little friend coming along? How is her sketching, her reading and her music?"
She coloured.
"You have abandoned them, I see. I am not surprised. Harriet was not made for music and sketching, but Miss Fairfax was. You should invite her to Hartfield. Together you can sketch and read, and play the pianoforte. She would be a proper companion for you."
"She is so thin I do not like to trouble her," said Emma awkwardly.
"You mean you do not like to trouble yourself! You were never fond of practising your music, even as a little girl. You were always eager to escape."
"Well, and what if I was? There was always something more interesting to do!" she said with an arch smile.
"You will never be truly accomplished if you do not practise."
"I am accomplished enough for Highbury," she said.
"It is a pity you do not go to London more."
"You know I cannot leave Papa. Besides, you always listen to me, despite my wrong notes!"
"I hope you are not passing these standards on to Harriet," I said. "You will never improve her if you are."
She had the grace to blush.
"You have not forgiven me for trying to improve her," she said.
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