serious difficulty, on Harriet’s side, to oppose any friendly
arrangement of her own.
They met Mr. Martin the very next day, as they were
walking on the Donwell road. He was on foot, and after
looking very respectfully at her, looked with most
unfeigned satisfaction at her companion. Emma was not
sorry to have such an opportunity of survey; and walking a
few yards forward, while they talked together, soon made
her quick eye sufficiently acquainted with Mr. Robert
Martin. His appearance was very neat, and he looked like
a sensible young man, but his person had no other
advantage; and when he came to be contrasted with
gentlemen, she thought he must lose all the ground he had
gained in Harriet’s inclination. Harriet was not insensible
of manner; she had voluntarily noticed her father’s
gentleness with admiration as well as wonder. Mr. Martin
looked as if he did not know what manner was.
They remained but a few minutes together, as Miss
Woodhouse must not be kept waiting; and Harriet then
came running to her with a smiling face, and in a flutter of
spirits, which Miss Woodhouse hoped very soon to
compose.
‘Only think of our happening to meet him!—How
very odd! It was quite a chance, he said, that he had not
Emma
45 of 745
gone round by Randalls. He did not think we ever walked
this road. He thought we walked towards Randalls most
days. He has not been able to get the Romance of the
Forest yet. He was so busy the last time he was at
Kingston that he quite forgot it, but he goes again tomorrow.
So very odd we should happen to meet! Well,
Miss Woodhouse, is he like what you expected? What do
you think of him? Do you think him so very plain?’
‘He is very plain, undoubtedly—remarkably plain:—
but that is nothing compared with his entire want of
gentility. I had no right to expect much, and I did not
expect much; but I had no idea that he could be so very
clownish, so totally without air. I had imagined him, I
confess, a degree or two nearer gentility.’
‘To be sure,’ said Harriet, in a mortified voice, ‘he is
not so genteel as real gentlemen.’
‘I think, Harriet, since your acquaintance with us, you
have been repeatedly in the company of some such very
real gentlemen, that you must yourself be struck with the
difference in Mr. Martin. At Hartfield, you have had very
good specimens of well educated, well bred men. I should
be surprized if, after seeing them, you could be in
company with Mr. Martin again without perceiving him
to be a very inferior creature—and rather wondering at
Emma
46 of 745
yourself for having ever thought him at all agreeable
before. Do not you begin to feel that now? Were not you
struck? I am sure you must have been struck by his
awkward look and abrupt manner, and the uncouthness of
a voice which I heard to be wholly unmodulated as I
stood here.’
‘Certainly, he is not like Mr. Knightley. He has not
such a fine air and way of walking as Mr. Knightley. I see
the difference plain enough. But Mr. Knightley is so very
fine a man!’
‘Mr. Knightley’s air is so remarkably good that it is not
fair to compare Mr. Martin with him. You might not see
one in a hundred with gentleman so plainly written as in
Mr. Knightley. But he is not the only gentleman you have
been lately used to. What say you to Mr. Weston and Mr.
Elton? Compare Mr. Martin with either of them.
Compare their manner of carrying themselves; of walking;
of speaking; of being silent. You must see the difference.’
‘Oh yes!—there is a great difference. But Mr. Weston
is almost an old man. Mr. Weston must be between forty
and fifty.’
‘Which makes his good manners the more valuable.
The older a person grows, Harriet, the more important it
is that their manners should not be bad; the more glaring
Emma
47 of 745
and disgusting any loudness, or coarseness, or awkwardness
becomes. What is passable in youth is detestable in later
age. Mr. Martin is now awkward and abrupt; what will he
be at Mr. Weston’s time of life?’
‘There is no saying, indeed,’ replied Harriet rather
solemnly.
‘But there may be pretty good guessing. He will be a
completely gross, vulgar farmer, totally inattentive to
appearances, and thinking of nothing but profit and loss.’
‘Will he, indeed? That will be very bad.’
‘How much his business engrosses him already is very
plain from the circumstance of his forgetting to inquire for
the book you recommended. He was a great deal too full
of the market to think of any thing else—which is just as it
should be, for a thriving man. What has he to do with
books? And I have no doubt that he will thrive, and be a
very rich man in time—and his being illiterate and coarse
need not disturb us.’
‘I wonder he did not remember the book’—was all
Harriet’s answer, and spoken with a degree of grave
displeasure which Emma thought might be safely left to
itself. She, therefore, said no more for some time. Her
next beginning was,
Emma
48 of 745
‘In one respect, perhaps, Mr. Elton’s manners are
superior to Mr. Knightley’s or Mr. Weston’s. They have
more gentleness. They might be more safely held up as a
pattern. There is an openness, a quickness, almost a
bluntness in Mr. Weston, which every body likes in him,
because there is so much good-humour with it—but that
would not do to be copied. Neither would Mr.
Knightley’s downright, decided, commanding sort of
manner, though it suits him very well; his figure, and
look, and situation in life seem to allow it; but if any
young man were to set about copying him, he would not
be sufferable. On the contrary, I think a young man might
be very safely recommended to take Mr. Elton as a model.
Mr. Elton is good-humoured, cheerful, obliging, and
gentle. He seems to me to be grown particularly gentle of
late. I do not know whether he has any design of
ingratiating himself with either of us, Harriet, by
additional softness, but it strikes me that his manners are
softer than they used to be. If he means any thing, it must
be to please you. Did not I tell you what he said of you
the other day?’
She then repeated some warm personal praise which
she had drawn from Mr. Elton, and now did full justice to;
Emma
49 of 745
and Harriet blushed and smiled, and said she had always
thought Mr. Elton very agreeable.
Mr. Elton was the very person fixed on by Emma for
driving the young farmer out of Harriet’s head. She
thought it would be an excellent match; and only too
palpably desirable, natural, and probable, for her to have
much merit in planning it. She feared it was what every
body else must think of and predict. It was not likely,
however, that any body should have equalled her in the
date of the plan, as it had entered her brain during the
very first evening of Harriet’s coming to Hartfield. The
longer she considered it, the greater was her sense of its
expediency. Mr. Elton’s situation was most suitable, quite
the gentleman himself, and without low connexions; at
the same time, not of any family that could fairly object to
the doubtful birth of Harriet. He had a comfortable home
for her, and Emma imagined a very sufficient income; for
though the vicarage of Highbury was not large, he was
known to have some independent property; and she
thought very highly of him as a good-humoured, wellmeaning,
respectable young man, without any deficiency
of useful understanding or knowledge of the world.
She had already satisfied herself that he thought Harriet
a beautiful girl, which she trusted, with such frequent
Emma
50 of 745
meetings at Hartfield, was foundation enough on his side;
and on Harriet’s there could be little doubt that the idea of
being preferred by him would have all the usual weight
and efficacy. And he was really a very pleasing young man,
a young man whom any woman not fastidious might like.
He was reckoned very handsome; his person much
admired in general, though not by her, there being a want
of elegance of feature which she could not dispense
with:—but the girl who could be gratified by a Robert
Martin’s riding about the country to get walnuts for her
might very well be conquered by Mr. Elton’s admiration.
Emma
51 of 745
Chapter V
‘I do not know what your opinion may be, Mrs.
Weston,’ said Mr. Knightley, ‘of this great intimacy
between Emma and Harriet Smith, but I think it a bad
thing.’
‘A bad thing! Do you really think it a bad thing?—
why so?’
‘I think they will neither of them do the other any
good.’
‘You surprize me! Emma must do Harriet good: and by
supplying her with a new object of interest, Harriet may
be said to do Emma good. I have been seeing their
intimacy with the greatest pleasure. How very differently
we feel!—Not think they will do each other any good!
This will certainly be the beginning of one of our quarrels
about Emma, Mr. Knightley.’
‘Perhaps you think I am come on purpose to quarrel
with you, knowing Weston to be out, and that you must
still fight your own battle.’
‘Mr. Weston would undoubtedly support me, if he
were here, for he thinks exactly as I do on the subject. We
were speaking of it only yesterday, and agreeing how
eBook brought to you by
Create, view, and edit PDF. Download the free trial version.
Emma
52 of 745
fortunate it was for Emma, that there should be such a girl
in Highbury for her to associate with. Mr. Knightley, I
shall not allow you to be a fair judge in this case. You are
so much used to live alone, that you do not know the
value of a companion; and, perhaps no man can be a good
judge of the comfort a woman feels in the society of one
of her own sex, after being used to it all her life. I can
imagine your objection to Harriet Smith. She is not the
superior young woman which Emma’s friend ought to be.
But on the other hand, as Emma wants to see her better
informed, it will be an inducement to her to read more
herself. They will read together. She means it, I know.’
‘Emma has been meaning to read more ever since she
was twelve years old. I have seen a great many lists of her
drawing-up at various times of books that she meant to
read regularly through—and very good lists they were—
very well chosen, and very neatly arranged—sometimes
alphabetically, and sometimes by some other rule. The list
she drew up when only fourteen—I remember thinking it
did her judgment so much credit, that I preserved it some
time; and I dare say she may have made out a very good
list now. But I have done with expecting any course of
steady reading from Emma. She will never submit to any
thing requiring industry and patience, and a subjection of
Emma
53 of 745
the fancy to the understanding. Where Miss Taylor failed
to stimulate, I may safely affirm that Harriet Smith will do
nothing.— You never could persuade her to read half so
much as you wished.—You know you could not.’
‘I dare say,’ replied Mrs. Weston, smiling, ‘that I
thought so then;—but since we have parted, I can never
remember Emma’s omitting to do any thing I wished.’
‘There is hardly any desiring to refresh such a memory
as that,’—said Mr. Knightley, feelingly; and for a moment
or two he had done. ‘But I,’ he soon added, ‘who have
had no such charm thrown over my senses, must still see,
hear, and remember. Emma is spoiled by being the
cleverest of her family. At ten years old, she had the
misfortune of being able to answer questions which
puzzled her sister at seventeen. She was always quick and
assured: Isabella slow and diffident. And ever since she was
twelve, Emma has been mistress of the house and of you
all. In her mother she lost the only person able to cope
with her. She inherits her mother’s talents, and must have
been under subjection to her.’
‘I should have been sorry, Mr. Knightley, to be
dependent on your recommendation, had I quitted Mr.
Woodhouse’s family and wanted another situation; I do
not think you would have spoken a good word for me to
Emma
54 of 745
any body. I am sure you always thought me unfit for the
office I held.’
‘Yes,’ said he, smiling. ‘You are better placed here; very
fit for a wife, but not at all for a governess. But you were
preparing yourself to be an excellent wife all the time you
were at Hartfield. You might not give Emma such a
complete education as your powers would seem to
promise; but you were receiving a very good education
from her, on the very material matrimonial point of
submitting your own will, and doing as you were bid; and
if Weston had asked me to recommend him a wife, I
should certainly have named Miss Taylor.’
‘Thank you. There will be very little merit in making a
good wife to such a man as Mr. Weston.’
‘Why, to own the truth, I am afraid you are rather
thrown away, and that with every disposition to bear,
there will be nothing to be borne. We will not despair,
however. Weston may grow cross from the wantonness of
comfort, or his son may plague him.’
‘I hope not that.—It is not likely. No, Mr. Knightley,
do not foretell vexation from that quarter.’
‘Not I, indeed. I only name possibilities. I do not
pretend to Emma’s genius for foretelling and guessing. I
hope, with all my heart, the young man may be a Weston
Emma
55 of 745
in merit, and a Churchill in fortune.—But Harriet
Smith—I have not half done about Harriet Smith. I think
her the very worst sort of companion that Emma could
possibly have. She knows nothing herself, and looks upon
Emma as knowing every thing. She is a flatterer in all her
ways; and so much the worse, because undesigned. Her
ignorance is hourly flattery. How can Emma imagine she
has any thing to learn herself, while Harriet is presenting
such a delightful inferiority? And as for Harriet, I will
venture to say that she cannot gain by the acquaintance.
Hartfield will only put her out of conceit with all the
other places she belongs to. She will grow just refined
enough to be uncomfortable with those among whom
birth and circumstances have placed her home. I am much
mistaken if Emma’s doctrines give any strength of mind,
or tend at all to make a girl adapt herself rationally to the
varieties of her situation in life.—They only give a little
polish.’
‘I either depend more upon Emma’s good sense than
you do, or am more anxious for her present comfort; for I
cannot lament the acquaintance. How well she looked last
night!’
Emma
56 of 745
‘Oh! you would rather talk of her person than her
mind, would you? Very well; I shall not attempt to deny
Emma’s being pretty.’
‘Pretty! say beautiful rather. Can you imagine any thing
nearer perfect beauty than Emma altogether— face and
figure?’
‘I do not know what I could imagine, but I confess that
I have seldom seen a face or figure more pleasing to me
than hers. But I am a partial old friend.’
‘Such an eye!—the true hazle eye—and so brilliant!
regular features, open countenance, with a complexion!
oh! what a bloom of full health, and such a pretty height
and size; such a firm and upright figure! There is health,
not merely in her bloom, but in her air, her head, her
glance. One hears sometimes of a child being ‘the picture
of health;’ now, Emma always gives me the idea of being
the complete picture of grown-up health. She is loveliness
itself. Mr. Knightley, is not she?’
‘I have not a fault to find with her person,’ he replied.
‘I think her all you describe. I love to look at her; and I
will add this praise, that I do not think her personally vain.
Considering how very handsome she is, she appears to be
little occupied with it; her vanity lies another way. Mrs.
Emma
57 of 745
Weston, I am not to be talked out of my dislike of Harriet
Smith, or my dread of its doing them both harm.’
‘And I, Mr. Knightley, am equally stout in my
confidence of its not doing them any harm. With all dear
Emma’s little faults, she is an excellent creature. Where
shall we see a better daughter, or a kinder sister, or a truer
friend? No, no; she has qualities which may be trusted; she
will never lead any one really wrong; she will make no
lasting blunder; where Emma errs once, she is in the right
a hundred times.’
‘Very well; I will not plague you any more. Emma shall
be an angel, and I will keep my spleen to myself till
Christmas brings John and Isabella. John loves Emma with
a reasonable and therefore not a blind affection, and
Isabella always thinks as he does; except when he is not
quite frightened enough about the children. I am sure of
having their opinions with me.’
‘I know that you all love her really too well to be
unjust or unkind; but excuse me, Mr. Knightley, if I take
the liberty (I consider myself, you know, as having
somewhat of the privilege of speech that Emma’s mother
might have had) the liberty of hinting that I do not think
any possible good can arise from Harriet Smith’s intimacy
being made a matter of much discussion among you. Pray
Emma
58 of 745
excuse me; but supposing any little inconvenience may be
apprehended from the intimacy, it cannot be expected that
Emma, accountable to nobody but her father, who
perfectly approves the acquaintance, should put an end to
it, so long as it is a source of pleasure to herself. It has been
so many years my province to give advice, that you cannot
be surprized, Mr. Knightley, at this little remains of office.’
‘Not at all,’ cried he; ‘I am much obliged to you for it.
It is very good advice, and it shall have a better fate than
your advice has often found; for it shall be attended to.’
‘Mrs. John Knightley is easily alarmed, and might be
made unhappy about her sister.’
‘Be satisfied,’ said he, ‘I will not raise any outcry. I will
keep my ill-humour to myself. I have a very sincere
interest in Emma. Isabella does not seem more my sister;
has never excited a greater interest; perhaps hardly so
great. There is an anxiety, a curiosity in what one feels for
Emma. I wonder what will become of her!’
‘So do I,’ said Mrs. Weston gently, ‘very much.’
‘She always declares she will never marry, which, of
course, means just nothing at all. But I have no idea that
she has yet ever seen a man she cared for. It would not be
a bad thing for her to be very much in love with a proper
object. I should like to see Emma in love, and in some
Emma
59 of 745
doubt of a return; it would do her good. But there is
nobody hereabouts to attach her; and she goes so seldom
from home.’
‘There does, indeed, seem as little to tempt her to
break her resolution at present,’ said Mrs. Weston, ‘as can
well be; and while she is so happy at Hartfield, I cannot
wish her to be forming any attachment which would be
creating such difficulties on poor Mr. Woodhouse’s
account. I do not recommend matrimony at present to
Emma, though I mean no slight to the state, I assure you.’
Part of her meaning was to conceal some favourite
thoughts of her own and Mr. Weston’s on the subject, as
much as possible. There were wishes at Randalls
respecting Emma’s destiny, but it was not desirable to have
them suspected; and the quiet transition which Mr.
Knightley soon afterwards made to ‘What does Weston
think of the weather; shall we have rain?’ convinced her
that he had nothing more to say or surmise about
Hartfield.
Emma
60 of 745
Chapter VI
Emma could not feel a doubt of having given Harriet’s
fancy a proper direction and raised the gratitude of her
young vanity to a very good purpose, for she found her
decidedly more sensible than before of Mr. Elton’s being a
remarkably handsome man, with most agreeable manners;
and as she had no hesitation in following up the assurance
of his admiration by agreeable hints, she was soon pretty
confident of creating as much liking on Harriet’s side, as
there could be any occasion for. She was quite convinced
of Mr. Elton’s being in the fairest way of falling in love, if
not in love already. She had no scruple with regard to
him. He talked of Harriet, and praised her so warmly, that
she could not suppose any thing wanting which a little
time would not add. His perception of the striking
improvement of Harriet’s manner, since her introduction
at Hartfield, was not one of the least agreeable proofs of
his growing attachment.
‘You have given Miss Smith all that she required,’ said
he; ‘you have made her graceful and easy. She was a
beautiful creature when she came to you, but, in my
Emma
61 of 745
opinion, the attractions you have added are infinitely
superior to what she received from nature.’
‘I am glad you think I have been useful to her; but
Harriet only wanted drawing out, and receiving a few,
very few hints. She had all the natural grace of sweetness
of temper and artlessness in herself. I have done very little.’
‘If it were admissible to contradict a lady,’ said the
gallant Mr. Elton—
‘I have perhaps given her a little more decision of
character, have taught her to think on points which had
not fallen in her way before.’
‘Exactly so; that is what principally strikes me. So much
superadded decision of character! Skilful has been the
hand!’
‘Great has been the pleasure, I am sure. I never met
with a disposition more truly amiable.’
‘I have no doubt of it.’ And it was spoken with a sort of
sighing animation, which had a vast deal of the lover. She
was not less pleased another day with the manner in which
he seconded a sudden wish of hers, to have Harriet’s
picture.
‘Did you ever have your likeness taken, Harriet?’ said
she: ‘did you ever sit for your picture?’
Emma
62 of 745
Harriet was on the point of leaving the room, and only
stopt to say, with a very interesting naivete,
‘Oh! dear, no, never.’
No sooner was she out of sight, than Emma exclaimed,
‘What an exquisite possession a good picture of her
would be! I would give any money for it. I almost long to
attempt her likeness myself. You do not know it I dare
say, but two or three years ago I had a great passion for
taking likenesses, and attempted several of my friends, and
was thought to have a tolerable eye in general. But from
one cause or another, I gave it up in disgust. But really, I
could almost venture, if Harriet would sit to me. It would
be such a delight to have her picture!’
‘Let me entreat you,’ cried Mr. Elton; ‘it would indeed
be a delight! Let me entreat you, Miss Woodhouse, to
exercise so charming a talent in favour of your friend. I
know what your drawings are. How could you suppose
me ignorant? Is not this room rich in specimens of your
landscapes and flowers; and has not Mrs. Weston some
inimitable figure-pieces in her drawing-room, at
Randalls?’
Yes, good man!—thought Emma—but what has all
that to do with taking likenesses? You know nothing of
drawing. Don’t pretend to be in raptures about mine.
Emma
63 of 745
Keep your raptures for Harriet’s face. ‘Well, if you give
me such kind encouragement, Mr. Elton, I believe I shall
try what I can do. Harriet’s features are very delicate,
which makes a likeness difficult; and yet there is a
peculiarity in the shape of the eye and the lines about the
mouth which one ought to catch.’
‘Exactly so—The shape of the eye and the lines about
the mouth—I have not a doubt of your success. Pray, pray
attempt it. As you will do it, it will indeed, to use your
own words, be an exquisite possession.’
‘But I am afraid, Mr. Elton, Harriet will not like to sit.
She thinks so little of her own beauty. Did not you
observe her manner of answering me? How completely it
meant, ‘why should my picture be drawn?’’
‘Oh! yes, I observed it, I assure you. It was not lost on
me. But still I cannot imagine she would not be
persuaded.’
Harriet was soon back again, and the proposal almost
immediately made; and she had no scruples which could
stand many minutes against the earnest pressing of both
the others. Emma wished to go to work directly, and
therefore produced the portfolio containing her various
attempts at portraits, for not one of them had ever been
finished, that they might decide together on the best size
eBook brought to you by
Create, view, and edit PDF. Download the free trial version.
Emma
64 of 745
for Harriet. Her many beginnings were displayed.
Miniatures, half-lengths, whole-lengths, pencil, crayon,
and water-colours had been all tried in turn. She had
always wanted to do every thing, and had made more
progress both in drawing and music than many might have
done with so little labour as she would ever submit to. She
played and sang;—and drew in almost every style; but
steadiness had always been wanting; and in nothing had
she approached the degree of excellence which she would
have been glad to command, and ought not to have failed
of. She was not much deceived as to her own skill either
as an artist or a musician, but she was not unwilling to
have others deceived, or sorry to know her reputation for
accomplishment often higher than it deserved.
There was merit in every drawing—in the least
finished, perhaps the most; her style was spirited; but had
there been much less, or had there been ten times more,
the delight and admiration of her two companions would
have been the same. They were both in ecstasies. A
likeness pleases every body; and Miss Woodhouse’s
performances must be capital.
‘No great variety of faces for you,’ said Emma. ‘I had
only my own family to study from. There is my father—
another of my father—but the idea of sitting for his
Emma
65 of 745
picture made him so nervous, that I could only take him
by stealth; neither of them very like therefore. Mrs.
Weston again, and again, and again, you see. Dear Mrs.
Weston! always my kindest friend on every occasion. She
would sit whenever I asked her. There is my sister; and
really quite her own little elegant figure!—and the face not
unlike. I should have made a good likeness of her, if she
would have sat longer, but she was in such a hurry to have
me draw her four children that she would not be quiet.
Then, here come all my attempts at three of those four
children;—there they are, Henry and John and Bella, from
one end of the sheet to the other, and any one of them
might do for any one of the rest. She was so eager to have
them drawn that I could not refuse; but there is no
making children of three or four years old stand still you
know; nor can it be very easy to take any likeness of them,
beyond the air and complexion, unless they are coarser
featured than any of mama’s children ever were. Here is
my sketch of the fourth, who was a baby. I took him as he
was sleeping on the sofa, and it is as strong a likeness of his
cockade as you would wish to see. He had nestled down
his head most conveniently. That’s very like. I am rather
proud of little George. The corner of the sofa is very
good. Then here is my last,’—unclosing a pretty sketch of
Emma
66 of 745
a gentleman in small size, whole-length— ‘my last and my
best—my brother, Mr. John Knightley. —This did not
want much of being finished, when I put it away in a pet,
and vowed I would never take another likeness. I could
not help being provoked; for after all my pains, and when
I had really made a very good likeness of it—(Mrs.
Weston and I were quite agreed in thinking it very like)—
only too handsome—too flattering—but that was a fault
on the right side— after all this, came poor dear Isabella’s
cold approbation of—‘Yes, it was a little like—but to be
sure it did not do him justice.’ We had had a great deal of
trouble in persuading him to sit at all. It was made a great
favour of; and altogether it was more than I could bear;
and so I never would finish it, to have it apologised over
as an unfavourable likeness, to every morning visitor in
Brunswick Square;—and, as I said, I did then forswear
ever drawing any body again. But for Harriet’s sake, or
rather for my own, and as there are no husbands and wives
in the case at present, I will break my resolution now.’
Mr. Elton seemed very properly struck and delighted
by the idea, and was repeating, ‘No husbands and wives in
the case at present indeed, as you observe. Exactly so. No
husbands and wives,’ with so interesting a consciousness,
that Emma began to consider whether she had not better
Emma
67 of 745
leave them together at once. But as she wanted to be
drawing, the declaration must wait a little longer.
She had soon fixed on the size and sort of portrait. It
was to be a whole-length in water-colours, like Mr. John
Knightley’s, and was destined, if she could please herself,
to hold a very honourable station over the mantelpiece.
The sitting began; and Harriet, smiling and blushing,
and afraid of not keeping her attitude and countenance,
presented a very sweet mixture of youthful expression to
the steady eyes of the artist. But there was no doing any
thing, with Mr. Elton fidgeting behind her and watching
every touch. She gave him credit for stationing himself
where he might gaze and gaze again without offence; but
was really obliged to put an end to it, and request him to
place himself elsewhere. It then occurred to her to employ
him in reading.
‘If he would be so good as to read to them, it would be
a kindness indeed! It would amuse away the difficulties of
her part, and lessen the irksomeness of Miss Smith’s.’
Mr. Elton was only too happy. Harriet listened, and
Emma drew in peace. She must allow him to be still
frequently coming to look; any thing less would certainly
have been too little in a lover; and he was ready at the
smallest intermission of the pencil, to jump up and see the
Emma
68 of 745
progress, and be charmed.—There was no being displeased
with such an encourager, for his admiration made him
discern a likeness almost before it was possible. She could
not respect his eye, but his love and his complaisance were
unexceptionable.
The sitting was altogether very satisfactory; she was
quite enough pleased with the first day’s sketch to wish to
go on. There was no want of likeness, she had been
fortunate in the attitude, and as she meant to throw in a
little improvement to the figure, to give a little more
height, and considerably more elegance, she had great
confidence of its being in every way a pretty drawing at
last, and of its filling its destined place with credit to them
both—a standing memorial of the beauty of one, the skill
of the other, and the friendship of both; with as many
other agreeable associations as Mr. Elton’s very promising
attachment was likely to add.
Harriet was to sit again the next day; and Mr. Elton,
just as he ought, entreated for the permission of attending
and reading to them again.
‘By all means. We shall be most happy to consider you
as one of the party.’
The same civilities and courtesies, the same success and
satisfaction, took place on the morrow, and accompanied
Emma
69 of 745
the whole progress of the picture, which was rapid and
happy. Every body who saw it was pleased, but Mr. Elton
was in continual raptures, and defended it through every
criticism.
‘Miss Woodhouse has given her friend the only beauty
she wanted,’—observed Mrs. Weston to him—not in the
least suspecting that she was addressing a lover.—‘The
expression of the eye is most correct, but Miss Smith has
not those eyebrows and eyelashes. It is the fault of her face
that she has them not.’
‘Do you think so?’ replied he. ‘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.’
‘You have made her too tall, Emma,’ said Mr.
Knightley.
Emma knew that she had, but would not own it; and
Mr. Elton warmly added,
‘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,
fore-shortening.—Oh no! it gives one exactly the idea of
such a height as Miss Smith’s. Exactly so indeed!’
Emma
70 of 745
‘It is very pretty,’ said Mr. Woodhouse. ‘So prettily
done! Just as your drawings always are, my dear. I do not
know any body 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—and 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.’
‘You, sir, may say any thing,’ cried Mr. Elton, ‘but I
must confess that I regard it as a most happy thought, the
placing of Miss Smith out of doors; and the tree is touched
with such inimitable spirit! Any other situation would
have been much less in character. The naivete of Miss
Smith’s manners—and altogether—Oh, it is most
admirable! I cannot keep my eyes from it. I never saw
such a likeness.’
The next thing wanted was to get the picture framed;
and here were a few difficulties. It must be done directly;
it must be done in London; the order must go through the
hands of some intelligent person whose taste could be
depended on; and Isabella, the usual doer of all
commissions, must not be applied to, because it was
December, and Mr. Woodhouse could not bear the idea
Emma
71 of 745
of her stirring out of her house in the fogs of December.
But no sooner was the distress known to Mr. Elton, than
it was removed. His gallantry was always on the alert.
‘Might he be trusted with the commission, what infinite
pleasure should he have in executing it! he could ride to
London at any time. It was impossible to say how much
he should be gratified by being employed on such an
errand.’
‘He was too good!—she could not endure the
thought!— she would not give him such a troublesome
office for the world,’—brought on the desired repetition
of entreaties and assurances,—and a very few minutes
settled the business.
Mr. Elton was to take the drawing to London, chuse
the frame, and give the directions; and Emma thought she
could so pack it as to ensure its safety without much
incommoding him, while he seemed mostly fearful of not
being incommoded enough.
‘What a precious deposit!’ said he with a tender sigh, as
he received it.
‘This man is almost too gallant to be in love,’ thought
Emma. ‘I should say so, but that I suppose there may be a
hundred different ways of being in love. He is an excellent
young man, and will suit Harriet exactly; it will be an
Emma
72 of 745
‘Exactly so,’ as he says himself; but he does sigh and
languish, and study for compliments rather more than I
could endure as a principal. I come in for a pretty good
share as a second. But it is his gratitude on Harriet’s
account.’
Emma
73 of 745
Chapter VII
The very day of Mr. Elton’s going to London produced
a fresh occasion for Emma’s services towards her friend.
Harriet had been at Hartfield, as usual, soon after breakfast;
and, after a time, had gone home to return again to
dinner: she returned, and sooner than had been talked of,
and with an agitated, hurried look, announcing something
extraordinary to have happened which she was longing to
tell. Half a minute brought it all out. She had heard, as
soon as she got back to Mrs. Goddard’s, that Mr. Martin
had been there an hour before, and finding she was not at
home, nor particularly expected, had left a little parcel for
her from one of his sisters, and gone away; and on
opening this parcel, she had actually found, besides the
two songs which she had lent Elizabeth to copy, a letter to
herself; and this letter was from him, from Mr. Martin,
and contained a direct proposal of marriage. ‘Who could
have thought it? She was so surprized she did not know
what to do. Yes, quite a proposal of marriage; and a very
good letter, at least she thought so. And he wrote as if he
really loved her very much—but she did not know—and
so, she was come as fast as she could to ask Miss
Emma
74 of 745
Woodhouse what she should do.—’ Emma was halfashamed
of her friend for seeming so pleased and so
doubtful.
‘Upon my word,’ she cried, ‘the young man is
determined not to lose any thing for want of asking. He
will connect himself well if he can.’
‘Will you read the letter?’ cried Harriet. ‘Pray do. I’d
rather you would.’
Emma was not sorry to be pressed. She read, and was
surprized. The style of the letter was much above her
expectation. There were not merely no grammatical
errors, but as a composition it would not have disgraced a
gentleman; the language, though plain, was strong and
unaffected, and the sentiments it conveyed very much to
the credit of the writer. It was short, but expressed good
sense, warm attachment, liberality, propriety, even
delicacy of feeling. She paused over it, while Harriet stood
anxiously watching for her opinion, with a ‘Well, well,’
and was at last forced to add, ‘Is it a good letter? or is it
too short?’
‘Yes, indeed, a very good letter,’ replied Emma rather
slowly—‘so good a letter, Harriet, that every thing
considered, I think one of his sisters must have helped
him. I can hardly imagine the young man whom I saw
Emma
75 of 745
talking with you the other day could express himself so
well, if left quite to his own powers, and yet it is not the
style of a woman; no, certainly, it is too strong and
concise; not diffuse enough for a woman. No doubt he is
a sensible man, and I suppose may have a natural talent
for—thinks strongly and clearly—and when he takes a pen
in hand, his thoughts naturally find proper words. It is so
with some men. Yes, I understand the sort of mind.
Vigorous, decided, with sentiments to a certain point, not
coarse. A better written letter, Harriet (returning it,) than I
had expected.’
‘Well,’ said the still waiting Harriet;—’ well—and—
and what shall I do?’
‘What shall you do! In what respect? Do you mean
with regard to this letter?’
‘Yes.’
‘But what are you in doubt of? You must answer it of
course—and speedily.’
‘Yes. But what shall I say? Dear Miss Woodhouse, do
advise me.’
‘Oh no, no! the letter had much better be all your
own. You will express yourself very properly, I am sure.
There is no danger of your not being intelligible, which is
the first thing. Your meaning must be unequivocal; no
eBook brought to you by
Create, view, and edit PDF. Download the free trial version.
Emma
76 of 745
doubts or demurs: and such expressions of gratitude and
concern for the pain you are inflicting as propriety
requires, will present themselves unbidden to your mind, I
am persuaded. You need not be prompted to write with
the appearance of sorrow for his disappointment.’
‘You think I ought to refuse him then,’ said Harriet,
looking down.
‘Ought to refuse him! My dear Harriet, what do you
mean? Are you in any doubt as to that? I thought—but I
beg your pardon, perhaps I have been under a mistake. I
certainly have been misunderstanding you, if you feel in
doubt as to the purport of your answer. I had imagined
you were consulting me only as to the wording of it.’
Harriet was silent. With a little reserve of manner,
Emma continued:
‘You mean to return a favourable answer, I collect.’
‘No, I do not; that is, I do not mean—What shall I do?
What would you advise me to do? Pray, dear Miss
Woodhouse, tell me what I ought to do.’
‘I shall not give you any advice, Harriet. I will have
nothing to do with it. This is a point which you must
settle with your feelings.’
‘I had no notion that he liked me so very much,’ said
Harriet, contemplating the letter. For a little while Emma
Emma
77 of 745
persevered in her silence; but beginning to apprehend the
bewitching flattery of that letter might be too powerful,
she thought it best to say,
‘I lay it down as a general rule, Harriet, that if a woman
doubts as to whether she should accept a man or not, she
certainly ought to refuse him. If she can hesitate as to
‘Yes,’ she ought to say ‘No’ directly. It is not a state to be
safely entered into with doubtful feelings, with half a
heart. I thought it my duty as a friend, and older than
yourself, to say thus much to you. But do not imagine that
I want to influence you.’
‘Oh! no, I am sure you are a great deal too kind to—
but if you would just advise me what I had best do—No,
no, I do not mean that—As you say, one’s mind ought to
be quite made up—One should not be hesitating—It is a
very serious thing.—It will be safer to say ‘No,’ perhaps.—
Do you think I had better say ‘No?’’
‘Not for the world,’ said Emma, smiling graciously,
‘would I advise you either way. You must be the best
judge of your own happiness. If you prefer Mr. Martin to
every other person; if you think him the most agreeable
man you have ever been in company with, why should
you hesitate? You blush, Harriet.—Does any body else
occur to you at this moment under such a definition?
Emma
78 of 745
Harriet, Harriet, do not deceive yourself; do not be run
away with by gratitude and compassion. At this moment
whom are you thinking of?’
The symptoms were favourable.—Instead of answering,
Harriet turned away confused, and stood thoughtfully by
the fire; and though the letter was still in her hand, it was
now mechanically twisted about without regard. Emma
waited the result with impatience, but not without strong
hopes. At last, with some hesitation, Harriet said—
‘Miss Woodhouse, as you will not give me your
opinion, I must do as well as I can by myself; and I have
now quite determined, and really almost made up my
mind—to refuse Mr. Martin. Do you think I am right?’
‘Perfectly, perfectly right, my dearest Harriet; you are
doing just what you ought. While you were at all in
suspense I kept my feelings to myself, but now that you
are so completely decided I have no hesitation in
approving. Dear Harriet, I give myself joy of this. It would
have grieved me to lose your acquaintance, which must
have been the consequence of your marrying Mr. Martin.
While you were in the smallest degree wavering, I said
nothing about it, because I would not influence; but it
would have been the loss of a friend to me. I could not
Emma
79 of 745
have visited Mrs. Robert Martin, of Abbey-Mill Farm.
Now I am secure of you for ever.’
Harriet had not surmised her own danger, but the idea
of it struck her forcibly.
‘You could not have visited me!’ she cried, looking
aghast. ‘No, to be sure you could not; but I never thought
of that before. That would have been too dreadful!—
What an escape!—Dear Miss Woodhouse, I would not
give up the pleasure and honour of being intimate with
you for any thing in the world.’
‘Indeed, Harriet, it would have been a severe pang to
lose you; but it must have been. You would have thrown
yourself out of all good society. I must have given you
up.’
‘Dear me!—How should I ever have borne it! It would
have killed me never to come to Hartfield any more!’
‘Dear affectionate creature!—You banished to Abbey-
Mill Farm!—You confined to the society of the illiterate
and vulgar all your life! I wonder how the young man
could have the assurance to ask it. He must have a pretty
good opinion of himself.’
‘I do not think he is conceited either, in general,’ said
Harriet, her conscience opposing such censure; ‘at least, he
is very good natured, and I shall always feel much obliged
Emma
80 of 745
to him, and have a great regard for— but that is quite a
different thing from—and you know, though he may like
me, it does not follow that I should—and certainly I must
confess that since my visiting here I have seen people—
and if one comes to compare them, person and manners,
there is no comparison at all, one is so very handsome and
agreeable. However, I do really think Mr. Martin a very
amiable young man, and have a great opinion of him; and
his being so much attached to me—and his writing such a
letter—but as to leaving you, it is what I would not do
upon any consideration.’
‘Thank you, thank you, my own sweet little friend. We
will not be parted. A woman is not to marry a man merely
because she is asked, or because he is attached to her, and
can write a tolerable letter.’
‘Oh no;—and it is but a short letter too.’
Emma felt the bad taste of her friend, but let it pass
with a ‘very true; and it would be a small consolation to
her, for the clownish manner which might be offending
her every hour of the day, to know that her husband
could write a good letter.’
‘Oh! yes, very. Nobody cares for a letter; the thing is,
to be always happy with pleasant companions. I am quite
Emma
81 of 745
determined to refuse him. But how shall I do? That shall I
say?’
Emma assured her there would be no difficulty in the
answer, and advised its being written directly, which was
agreed to, in the hope of her assistance; and though Emma
continued to protest against any assistance being wanted, it
was in fact given in the formation of every sentence. The
looking over his letter again, in replying to it, had such a
softening tendency, that it was particularly necessary to
brace her up with a few decisive expressions; and she was
so very much concerned at the idea of making him
unhappy, and thought so much of what his mother and
sisters would think and say, and was so anxious that they
should not fancy her ungrateful, that Emma believed if the
young man had come in her way at that moment, he
would have been accepted after all.
This letter, however, was written, and sealed, and sent.
The business was finished, and Harriet safe. She was rather
low all the evening, but Emma could allow for her
amiable regrets, and sometimes relieved them by speaking
of her own affection, sometimes by bringing forward the
idea of Mr. Elton.
‘I shall never be invited to Abbey-Mill again,’ was said
in rather a sorrowful tone.
Emma
82 of 745
‘Nor, if you were, could I ever bear to part with you,
my Harriet. You are a great deal too necessary at Hartfield
to be spared to Abbey-Mill.’
‘And I am sure I should never want to go there; for I
am never happy but at Hartfield.’
Some time afterwards it was, ‘I think Mrs. Goddard
would be very much surprized if she knew what had
happened. I am sure Miss Nash would—for Miss Nash
thinks her own sister very well married, and it is only a
linen-draper.’
‘One should be sorry to see greater pride or refinement
in the teacher of a school, Harriet. I dare say Miss Nash
would envy you such an opportunity as this of being
married. Even this conquest would appear valuable in her
eyes. As to any thing superior for you, I suppose she is
quite in the dark. The attentions of a certain person can
hardly be among the tittle-tattle of Highbury yet. Hitherto
I fancy you and I are the only people to whom his looks
and manners have explained themselves.’
Harriet blushed and smiled, and said something about
wondering that people should like her so much. The idea
of Mr. Elton was certainly cheering; but still, after a time,
she was tender-hearted again towards the rejected Mr.
Martin.
Emma
83 of 745
‘Now he has got my letter,’ said she softly. ‘I wonder
what they are all doing—whether his sisters know—if he
is unhappy, they will be unhappy too. I hope he will not
mind it so very much.’
‘Let us think of those among our absent friends who
are more cheerfully employed,’ cried Emma. ‘At this
moment, perhaps, Mr. Elton is shewing your picture to his
mother and sisters, telling how much more beautiful is the
original, and after being asked for it five or six times,
allowing them to hear your name, your own dear name.’
‘My picture!—But he has left my picture in Bondstreet.’
‘Has he so!—Then I know nothing of Mr. Elton. No,
my dear little modest Harriet, depend upon it the picture
will not be in Bond-street till just before he mounts his
horse to-morrow. It is his companion all this evening, his
solace, his delight. It opens his designs to his family, it
introduces you among them, it diffuses through the party
those pleasantest feelings of our nature, eager curiosity and
warm prepossession. How cheerful, how animated, how
suspicious, how busy their imaginations all are!’
Harriet smiled again, and her smiles grew stronger.
Emma
84 of 745
Chapter VIII
Harriet slept at Hartfield that night. For some weeks
past she had been spending more than half her time there,
and gradually getting to have a bed-room appropriated to
herself; and Emma judged it best in every respect, safest
and kindest, to keep her with them as much as possible
just at present. She was obliged to go the next morning for
an hour or two to Mrs. Goddard’s, but it was then to be
settled that she should return to Hartfield, to make a
regular visit of some days.
While she was gone, Mr. Knightley called, and sat
some time with Mr. Woodhouse and Emma, till Mr.
Woodhouse, who had previously made up his mind to
walk out, was persuaded by his daughter not to defer it,
and was induced by the entreaties of both, though against
the scruples of his own civility, to leave Mr. Knightley for
that purpose. Mr. Knightley, who had nothing of
ceremony about him, was offering by his short, decided
answers, an amusing contrast to the protracted apologies
and civil hesitations of the other.
‘Well, I believe, if you will excuse me, Mr. Knightley,
if you will not consider me as doing a very rude thing, I
Emma
85 of 745
shall take Emma’s advice and go out for a quarter of an
hour. As the sun is out, I believe I had better take my
three turns while I can. I treat you without ceremony, Mr.
Knightley. We invalids think we are privileged people.’
‘My dear sir, do not make a stranger of me.’
‘I leave an excellent substitute in my daughter. Emma
will be happy to entertain you. And therefore I think I
will beg your excuse and take my three turns—my winter
walk.’
‘You cannot do better, sir.’
‘I would ask for the pleasure of your company, Mr.
Knightley, but I am a very slow walker, and my pace
would be tedious to you; and, besides, you have another
long walk before you, to Donwell Abbey.’
‘Thank you, sir, thank you; I am going this moment
myself; and I think the sooner you go the better. I will
fetch your greatcoat and open the garden door for you.’
Mr. Woodhouse at last was off; but Mr. Knightley,
instead of being immediately off likewise, sat down again,
seemingly inclined for more chat. He began speaking of
Harriet, and speaking of her with more voluntary praise
than Emma had ever heard before.
‘I cannot rate her beauty as you do,’ said he; ‘but she is
a pretty little creature, and I am inclined to think very well
Emma
86 of 745
No comments:
Post a Comment