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Chapter 14
Some change of countenance was
necessary
for each gentleman as they walked into Mrs. Weston's
drawing-room;--Mr. Elton must compose his joyous looks, and
Mr. John
Knightley disperse his ill-humour. Mr. Elton must smile less,
and Mr. John Knightley more, to fit them for the place.--Emma
only
might be as nature prompted, and shew herself just as happy as
she
was. To her it was
real enjoyment to be with the Westons.
Mr. Weston was a great favourite, and there
was not a creature in the
world to whom she spoke with such unreserve, as to his wife;
not any
one, to whom she related with such conviction of being
listened
to and understood, of being always interesting and always
intelligible, the little affairs, arrangements,
perplexities,
and
pleasures of her father and herself. She could tell nothing of
Hartfield, in
which Mrs. Weston had not a lively concern; and half an hour's
uninterrupted communication of all those little matters on
which the
daily happiness of private life depends, was one of the first
gratifications of each.
This was a pleasure
which perhaps the
whole day's visit might not afford, which certainly did not
belong to the present half-hour; but the very sight of Mrs.
Weston, her
smile, her touch, her voice was grateful to Emma, and she
determined
to think as little as possible of Mr. Elton's oddities, or of
any thing else unpleasant, and enjoy all that was enjoyable to
the
utmost.
The misfortune of
Harriet's cold had
been pretty well gone through before her arrival. Mr. Woodhouse had been
safely seated long enough to give the history of it,
besides all the history of his own and Isabella's coming, and
of Emma's
being to follow, and had indeed just got to the end of his
satisfaction
that James should come and see his daughter, when the others
appeared, and Mrs. Weston, who had been almost wholly
engrossed by
her attentions to him, was able to turn away and welcome her
dear Emma.
Emma's project of
forgetting Mr. Elton
for a while made her rather sorry to find, when they had all
taken
their places, that he was close to her.
The difficulty was great of driving his
strange insensibility towards Harriet, from her
mind, while he not only sat at her elbow, but was continually
obtruding his happy countenance on her notice, and
solicitously
addressing her upon every occasion. Instead of forgetting him,
his behaviour
was such that she could not avoid the internal suggestion of
"Can it really be as my brother imagined? can it be possible
for this
man to be beginning to transfer his affections from Harriet to
me?--Absurd and insufferable!"-- Yet he would be so anxious
for her being
perfectly warm, would be so interested about her father, and
so
delighted with Mrs. Weston; and at last would begin admiring
her
drawings with so much zeal and so little knowledge as seemed
terribly like a would-be lover, and made it some effort with
her to
preserve her good manners. For her own sake she could not be
rude;
and for Harriet's, in the hope that all would yet turn out
right, she
was even positively civil; but it was an effort; especially as
something was going on amongst the others, in the most
overpowering
period of Mr. Elton's nonsense, which she particularly wished
to listen
to. She heard
enough to know that Mr. Weston was giving some
information about his son; she heard the words "my son,"
and "Frank," and "my son," repeated several times over; and,
from a
few other half-syllables very much suspected that he was
announcing
an early visit from his son; but before she could quiet Mr.
Elton, the subject was so completely past that any reviving
question from her would have been awkward.
Now, it so happened that
in spite of
Emma's resolution of never marrying, there was something in
the name, in the
idea of Mr. Frank Churchill, which always interested her. She had frequently
thought--especially since his father's marriage with Miss
Taylor--that if she were to marry, he was the very person to
suit her in
age, character and condition. He seemed by this connexion
between the
families, quite to belong to her. She could not but suppose it
to be a
match that every body who knew them must think of. That Mr. and Mrs. Weston
did think of it, she
was very strongly persuaded; and though not
meaning to be induced by him, or by any body else, to give up
a
situation which she believed more replete with good than any
she could
change it for, she had a great curiosity to see him, a decided
intention of finding him pleasant, of being liked by him to a
certain
degree, and a sort of pleasure in the idea of their being
coupled in
their friends' imaginations.
With such sensations,
Mr. Elton's
civilities were dreadfully ill-timed; but she had the comfort
of appearing
very polite, while feeling very cross--and of thinking that
the
rest of the visit could not possibly pass without bringing
forward
the same information again, or the substance of it, from the
open-hearted Mr. Weston.--So it proved;-- for when happily
released from Mr.
Elton, and seated by Mr. Weston, at dinner, he made use of the
very first
interval in the cares of hospitality, the very first leisure
from the saddle of mutton, to say to her,
"We want only two more
to be just
the right number. I
should like to see two more here,--your pretty
little friend, Miss Smith, and my son--and then I should say
we
were quite complete. I believe you did not hear me telling
the others in the drawing-room that we are expecting Frank. I had a letter from him
this morning, and he will be with us within a
fortnight."
Emma spoke with a very
proper degree of
pleasure; and fully assented to his proposition of Mr. Frank
Churchill and Miss Smith making their party quite complete.
"He has been wanting to
come to us,"
continued Mr. Weston, "ever since September:
every letter has been full of it; but he
cannot command his own time. He
has those to please who must be pleased, and who (between
ourselves) are sometimes to be pleased only by a good many
sacrifices. But
now I have no doubt of seeing him here about
the second week in January."
"What a very great
pleasure it will
be to you! and Mrs. Weston is so anxious to be acquainted with
him,
that she must be almost as happy as yourself."
"Yes, she would be, but
that she
thinks there will be another put-off. She does not depend upon
his
coming so much as I do: but she does not know the parties so
well as I do. The
case, you see, is--(but this is quite between
ourselves: I did
not mention a syllable of it in the other room. There are secrets in all
families, you know)--The case is, that a party of
friends are invited to pay a visit at Enscombe in January; and
that
Frank's coming depends upon their being put off. If they are not put off,
he cannot stir. But I know they will, because it is a
family that a certain lady, of some consequence, at Enscombe,
has a
particular dislike to: and though it is thought necessary to
invite them once in two or three years, they always are put
off
when it comes to the point. I have not the smallest doubt of
the
issue. I am as
confident of seeing Frank here before the middle
of January, as I am of being here myself:
but your good friend there (nodding towards
the upper end of the table) has
so few vagaries herself, and has been so little used to them
at
Hartfield, that she cannot calculate on their effects, as I
have
been long in the practice of doing."
"I am sorry there should
be any
thing like doubt in the case," replied Emma; "but am disposed
to
side with you, Mr. Weston. If
you think he will come, I shall think so
too; for you know Enscombe."
"Yes--I have some right
to that
knowledge; though I have never been at the place in my
life.--She is an odd
woman!--But I never allow myself to speak ill of her, on
Frank's
account; for I do believe her to be very fond of him. I used to think she was
not capable of being fond of any body, except
herself: but she
has always been kind to him (in her way--allowing for
little whims and caprices, and expecting every thing to be as
she
likes). And it is no small credit, in my opinion, to him, that
he should
excite such an affection; for, though I would not say it to
any
body else, she has no more heart than a stone to people in
general;
and the devil of a temper."
Emma liked the subject
so well, that she
began upon it, to Mrs. Weston, very soon after their moving
into the
drawing-room: wishing her joy-- yet observing, that she knew
the first
meeting must be rather alarming.-- Mrs. Weston agreed to it; but added,
that she should be very glad to be secure of undergoing the
anxiety of a first meeting at the time talked of: "for I cannot depend upon
his coming. I cannot be so sanguine as Mr.
Weston. I am very
much afraid that it will all end in nothing.
Mr. Weston, I dare say, has been telling
you exactly how the matter
stands?"
"Yes--it seems to depend
upon
nothing but the ill-humour of Mrs. Churchill, which I imagine
to be
the most certain thing in the world."
"My Emma!" replied Mrs.
Weston,
smiling, "what is the certainty of caprice?"
Then turning to Isabella, who had not
been attending
before--"You must know,
my dear Mrs. Knightley, that we are by no means so sure of
seeing Mr. Frank Churchill, in my opinion, as his father
thinks. It depends
entirely upon his aunt's spirits and pleasure; in
short, upon her temper. To you--to my two daughters--I may
venture on the truth. Mrs. Churchill rules at Enscombe, and is
a very odd-tempered woman; and his coming now, depends upon
her
being willing to spare him."
"Oh, Mrs. Churchill;
every body
knows Mrs. Churchill," replied Isabella:
"and I am sure I never think of that
poor young man without the greatest
compassion. To be
constantly living with an ill-tempered person, must be
dreadful. It is
what we happily have never known any thing of;
but it must be a life of misery.
What a blessing, that she never had any
children! Poor little creatures, how unhappy she
would have made them!"
Emma wished she had been
alone with Mrs.
Weston. She should
then have heard more: Mrs.
Weston would speak to her, with a degree
of unreserve which she would not hazard with
Isabella; and, she really believed, would scarcely try to conceal any
thing
relative to the Churchills from her, excepting those views on
the
young man, of which her own imagination had already given her
such
instinctive knowledge. But at present there was nothing more
to
be said. Mr.
Woodhouse very soon followed them into the
drawing-room. To be sitting long after dinner, was a confinement
that he could not endure. Neither wine nor conversation was
any
thing to him; and gladly did he move to those with whom he was
always
comfortable.
While he talked to
Isabella, however,
Emma found an opportunity of saying,
"And so you do not
consider this
visit from your son as by any means certain.
I am sorry for it.
The introduction must be
unpleasant, whenever
it takes place; and the sooner
it could be over, the better."
"Yes; and every delay
makes one
more apprehensive of other delays. Even if this family, the
Braithwaites,
are put off, I am still afraid that some excuse may be found
for
disappointing us. I cannot bear to imagine any reluctance
on his side; but I am sure there is a great wish on the
Churchills'
to keep him to themselves. There is jealousy.
They are jealous even of his regard for his
father. In short, I can feel no dependence on
his coming, and I wish Mr. Weston were less sanguine."
"He ought to come," said
Emma. "If he could
stay only a
couple of days, he ought to come; and one can
hardly conceive a young man's not having it in his power to do
as much
as that. A young
woman, if she fall into bad hands, may be
teazed, and kept at a distance from those she wants to be
with; but one
cannot comprehend a young man's being under such restraint, as
not
to be able to spend a week with his father, if he likes it."
"One ought to be at
Enscombe, and
know the ways of the family, before one decides upon what he
can
do," replied Mrs. Weston. "One ought to use the same caution,
perhaps, in judging of the conduct of any one individual of
any one
family; but Enscombe, I believe, certainly must not be judged
by general rules: she is so very unreasonable; and every
thing gives way to her."
"But she is so fond of
the
nephew: he is so
very great a favourite. Now, according to my idea of Mrs.
Churchill, it would be most natural, that while she makes no
sacrifice for
the comfort of the husband, to whom she owes every thing,
while she
exercises incessant caprice towards him, she should frequently
be
governed by the nephew, to whom she owes nothing at all."
"My dearest Emma, do not
pretend,
with your sweet temper, to understand a bad one, or to lay
down
rules for it: you
must let it go its own way.
I have no doubt of his having, at
times, considerable
influence; but it may be
perfectly impossible for him to know beforehand when it will
be."
Emma listened, and then
coolly said,
"I shall not be satisfied, unless he comes."
"He may have a great
deal of
influence on some points," continued Mrs. Weston, "and on
others, very little: and
among those, on which she is beyond his reach, it is
but too likely, may be this very circumstance of his coming
away from them to visit us."
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