I saw there was no arguing with him, and I said no more. Let him think Emma arranged his marriage if he wishes! It can do no harm, as long as he does not say so to her.


Saturday 7 November

This evening, Miss Bates was still talking of her alarm over Jane’s accident, and she recounted the incident over dinner at Graham’s. Mr. and Mrs. Cole said everything necessary to reassure her, and she exclaimed that she did not know what she would do without such good friends.

"A fine woman," remarked Mr. Longridge of Miss Bates, once the ladies had withdrawn. "She reminds me of my dear wife."

He blew his nose, and became quiet.

I thought he had been recently bereaved, but I later learnt that his wife died twenty years ago. However, he still speaks of her with great affection.

The talk after dinner was of politics and business until we joined the ladies, whereupon Mrs. Weston sang for us. I joined her, and I felt it was an evening well spent.


Thursday 12 November

I walked in on a pretty scene this morning when I called at Hartfield. Emma was netting a purse, and Harriet was hemming a handkerchief.

"You find us usefully employed," said Emma.

"I do indeed."

Both girls were in good spirits. I could not begrudge Emma her friendship when I saw how happy she was, though I still wished Harriet was a more suitable companion.

Harriet was sewing very prettily, however, and spoke to me sensibly about her work. If she became vague when I asked her what she had been reading, I did not hold it against her. Emma’s plan for her education was very grand, and never likely to succeed.

I talked to Mr. Woodhouse, attending to some papers that had been troubling him, and stayed at Hartfield for luncheon. Mr. Woodhouse was alarmed at the quantity of meat I ate, averring it would do me no good and begging me to join him in a bowl of gruel, but Emma distracted him by talking of Isabella’s forthcoming visit, and I was able to finish my meal in peace.


Saturday 21 November

The plans for the new barn at Abbey Mill Farm are coming on well. When Robert Martin called at the Abbey to speak to me about them, we looked at them together.

I happened to mention that I had seen Miss Smith at Hartfield, and he said that his sisters would be glad to hear it. He said that he was going to Kingston after leaving me, and let slip that he intended to buy a book she had recommended.

"What is it?" I enquired, wondering whether it was a book on Harriet’s reading list.

He went red and fingered his cravat, then told me its name rather shamefacedly.

I could not help smiling. Emma may not have been able to induce her friend to read Shakespeare, but Harriet has managed to persuade Robert Martin to read The Romance of the Forest!


Wednesday 25 November

Of all the evenings it is possible to spend, a companionable evening with friends is the best. I spent one such evening at Hartfield today. Mr. Woodhouse was in high spirits, having been assured by Perry that his health was good, and Emma was sitting by the fire, sketching. Harriet was copying some pictures from a fashion journal. I was reading the newspaper, and reading out such things as I thought might interest them.

After a while, I laid my newspaper aside and went over to look at Emma’s work. I saw that she had been sketching her father.

"So you are serious about resuming your sketching?" I said.

"I am. I felt an urge to take a likeness of Harriet," she said, "and I wanted to refresh my hand."

I found myself hoping she would persevere with the undertaking, for it had a spirited style, but alas! I thought her likeness of Harriet would probably join the other half-finished sketches in her portfolio.

As I walked back to the Abbey I was well-pleased with life. The weather was fine, I had the pleasure of a visit from John and Isabella to look forward to, and in the meantime I had many more evenings to spend at Hartfield.


Thursday 26 November

When I visited Hartfield this evening, I found Emma sitting with her father, Harriet and Elton. As I walked into the room, I saw that Harriet was entertaining Mr. Woodhouse, whilst Emma talked to Elton.

"Harriet looks very well this evening," I heard her say, as I sat down and began looking at the newspaper.

"Yes, indeed," replied her companion.

"I thought she was looking rather pale this morning, so I suggested we take a walk. I believe it has brightened her complexion."

"Admirable!" he said. "A walk! Exercise! Just the thing."

"Do you not think her complexion has been brightened by it?" she pressed him, as he did not follow up her hint.

It was at this moment I began to suspect her motives for encouraging him to notice her friend, and to think that she wanted to make a match between Harriet and Elton!

I did not know whether to feel annoyance or pity. Emma had mistaken her man if she thought Elton would marry a parlour boarder, a young girl without name, birth or dowry to recommend her.

Elton had no suspicion, however, and was, as always, eager to defer to Miss Woodhouse of Hartfield.

"Indeed I do. I noticed her complexion particularly. Why, it has been brightened by fresh air and exercise! I thought as I came into the room. It was just what she needed to bring out her beauty. So good of you to take the trouble!"

"I am sure it was good of Harriet to take the time to walk with me," she said, firmly turning the conversation back to Harriet’s advantages.

Hah! I thought in amusement. Now, Elton, turn that into a compliment to Emma if you can!

I continued to be amused by them, as they carried on at cross purposes for the next quarter of an hour, Emma trying to make a match between a glove and a mitten, and Elton to raise his standing in the village by flattering Miss Woodhouse. I waited for them to grow tired of it, but as they showed no signs of doing so, at last I emerged from my newspaper and forced them to engage in more general and rational conversation.


Friday 27 November

Emma’s matchmaking continued today and Elton, poor man, had no idea of what she was about.

She asked him outright what he thought of her little friend. It was impossible to make anything of his convoluted answer, for although he said how much she had improved, and how she had now acquired the polish she had been wanting, his every remark reflected well on Emma: it was Emma who had improved her; Emma who had given her polish.

As the evening wore on, I began to have a suspicion that Elton was doing more than flattering a well-connected young woman. I began to think he was lifting his eyes to Emma herself.

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 assuming that he has a chance of success will teach Emma a lesson in humility which I can never hope to surpass.

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."