Mr Knightley's Diary Part 12

'Have a care, Emma. There is a fine line between confidence and self-deception. If you encourage her to think her father is a baron, and he turns out to be a shopkeeper, what then?'

She looked uncomfortable.

'I am only trying to help her.'

'You are not helping her by filling her head with conceit. I thought you would have learnt your lesson about interfering by now.'

'I want what is best for her, that is all,' she said, but she did not meet my eye.

'Then let her be happy, in her own way.'

She gave a laugh, but she abandoned the subject of her friend, saying: 'But we were not speaking of Harriet, we were speaking of the Coles.'

'Very good, unpretending people,' I returned. 'They are respectable, and well thought of by their neighbours. Their business has prospered, and their style of living is now second only to Hartfield.'

'That is exactly what I mean. What business have they living in such style? It is proof, if proof were needed, that they are only moderately genteel. To have them presume to invite the best families to dinner! If you will be guided by me, you will send them your regrets and you will stay at home.'

'I shall do nothing of the kind, and Weston will not refuse the invitation either.'

'Then it is up to me to show them the error of their ways. Nothing shall tempt me to go, and my only regret is that my father's habits are so well-known that they might not ascribe my refusal to the real reason; by which I mean to say, they might think it is because Papa does not like to dine out, rather than realizing it is because their invitation is presumptuous.'

I shook my head, smiling.

'The Coles are very respectable in their way, but they ought to be taught that it is not for them to arrange the terms on which the superior families will visit them,' she said majestically. 'Standards must be maintained. I could not possibly go to one of their dinner parties.'

'You need not worry about it. I doubt if they will invite you,' I said, to puncture her conceit.

She looked surprised and then displeased, and I laughed. She did not want to go, because she believed it would be beneath her dignity, but she did not want to be neglected, either!

We finished the game. I won, which did not please her, but as she is as good a player as I am, the next time we play, the positions will probably be reversed.

Sat.u.r.day 27 February Today was a fine day. After the recent bad weather it was a relief to wake to a blue sky and a stiff breeze, rather than sleet and scattered snow. I received a letter from John this morning and I walked over to Hartfield so that I could share the news.

'Will he be coming to us at Easter?' asked Emma.

'No, he says he is too busy, but he has promised to visit us for an extended spell in the summer.'

'But the children will have grown so much by then!'

Mr Woodhouse sighed and shook his head, murmuring, 'Poor Isabella! She must miss us terribly.'

'You must write back and persuade your brother to spare us a few days,' said Emma.

'I only wish I could. I would like to have the boys here myself.'

'And not the girls?' Emma teased me.

'The girls, too!'

'Emma will no longer be a baby the next time we see her. If we wait until the summer, she will be more than one year old.'

'But she will not be too big for her aunt to play with,' I said.

'Or her uncle. You are as capable of doting on the children as I am.'

At this Mr Woodhouse broke in anxiously: 'Only sometimes, Mr Knightley, I fear you are too rough. I have seen you throwing them up to the ceiling, and it is very dangerous.'

'Come now, Papa, the children enjoy it,' said Emma.

'Children enjoy all sorts of things that are not good for them, my dear,' he said. 'Once, Henry asked me for a knife, but I told him knives were only made for grandpapas. I could not think of letting him have anything so dangerous.'

Emma wisely changed the subject. We spoke of the Bateses, the Coles and the Westons, and Mr Woodhouse was soon soothed.

I could not stay to luncheon as business called me back to the Abbey but I walked over to Hartfield after dinner and spent the remainder of my evening there.

Once I was settled in my chair, Emma told me she had written to Isabella and begged her to spare her two oldest children for a time.

'I know she will not be parted from the younger ones, but if John finds himself travelling this way on business he could bring the older children with him and leave them here.'

She looked at me.

'Well?' I asked her.

'I thought that you might like to write something similar to John,' she said.

'Hah! Very well. I will add my entreaties to yours, and see if we cannot persuade them between us.'

MARCH.

Monday 1 March Whilst dining with Graham this evening, Mr Longridge spoke of his continuing efforts to find a house in Highbury.

'I have seen so many houses, if I did not have my friends to help me, I would be thoroughly confused.'

'You have been to Brookfield?' asked Mrs Cole.

'Not yet, but I have it on my list, and I am going there tomorrow. I have high hopes of it. I have heard it is an excellent house.'

'It is certainly very conveniently placed, being on the London road.'

'I do not believe I shall be going to London very much, except to visit the shops and theatres from time to time. I like the countryside hereabouts, and I am having a new carriage made, the better to explore it. The springs are deplorable on the one I have at present.'

'Not at all--most comfortable--Jane was only saying so this morning,' said Miss Bates.

As she regaled Mrs Cole with an account of Longridge's carriage, I spoke to Miss Fairfax, trying to draw her out on the subject of the carriage, but after answering my questions with one word she relapsed into silence.

'I like my friends to be comfortable, and I like to be comfortable myself,' said Mr Longridge.

After talk on the comfort of carriages died away, Mrs G.o.ddard said that she had had a visit from the Miss Martins.

'They are the sisters of your tenant farmer, Mr Robert Martin, I believe,' said Graham.

'Yes, I know the family. Mr Martin is an excellent tenant, and his family are very agreeable,' I said.

'They were great friends with Harriet when they were all at school together, but they have not seen so much of each other recently,' Mrs G.o.ddard said, determined to have her share of the conversation. 'It is a pity, for Harriet enjoyed her visit to them last summer immensely. But now, I hope, their intercourse is to resume.'

'Oh?'

'They all seemed very friendly together. Miss Smith was surprised to see them. She has been so much with Miss Woodhouse and they, no doubt, have been busy at home, but she was soon chatting very pleasantly with them. I said to Miss Smith she must make sure she returned the call, and she said yes, she was looking forward to it. She was very happy at Abbey Mill Farm.'

Mrs G.o.ddard looked at me as she said it, and then looked away. She has been in place of a mother to Miss Smith for many years, and I am sure she would like to see Miss Smith happily settled, as I would.

It remains to be seen if Emma has learnt her lesson and wishes it, too.

Tuesday 2 March I went over to Hartfield to see Mr Woodhouse on a matter of business and I was hoping to see Emma, but I learnt that she was out.

'She has taken Harriet to see some friends of hers, the Martins. She promised me she will not be long,' said Mr Woodhouse.

My spirits fell. I had hoped Emma would encourage her friend to return the visit, but I was unhappy that she had decided to go with her. I hoped it was an act of kindness on her part, to take Miss Smith in the carriage, but I feared it was because she did not want her friend to stay too long.

I scarcely listened to Mr Woodhouse's complaints about the weather, his infirmity, and the imagined infirmity of all his friends, so busy was I thinking of Emma, but when I heard the name Frank Churchill, I began to pay attention.

'Mr and Mrs Weston were here this morning, with some news about Mr Weston's son, Frank. He is to visit us,' he said.

'I have been hearing of his visit these last six months, but it has never happened yet,' I remarked.

'His time is not his own,' said Mr Woodhouse, shaking his head. 'Mrs Churchill is very ill, poor lady! If only she had Perry to attend her, she would soon see a marked improvement in her condition, but she has to rely on some Yorks.h.i.+re doctor, who I dare say does not know his business.'

'And when is Frank Churchill to visit?' I asked, feeling out of humour.

'On the morrow.'

'On the morrow!'

I could scarcely believe it. After all the delays, to learn that Frank Churchill was to visit so soon!

'That is what Mr Weston said,' continued Mr Woodhouse. 'They are to see him by dinner-time as a certainty. He is at Oxford today, and he comes for a whole fortnight.'

'A whole fortnight!' I cried.

I could think of nothing worse than a fortnight of Frank Churchill.

When I returned to the Abbey, I found my exasperation leaving me, and wondered why I had become so angry at the idea of his imminent arrival. I had never even met the young man, and to take him in such dislike was absurd. But when I called on Graham this evening and discovered that Frank Churchill had already arrived, my animosity was rekindled.

'Already arrived? But he is not due until tomorrow!' I said.

'He arrived early, as a surprise,' said Graham, well-pleased.

'A charming thought,' said Mrs Cole, who had dined with Graham, along with her husband and the Otways.

'An unforgivable one,' I said. 'What, to arrive a day early, when nothing is ready, and to take his hosts by surprise. What if they had been out?'

'But they were not out,' said Graham good-humouredly. 'Mr Weston is delighted with him, and Mrs Weston, too.'

I could say no more, but that did not stop me thinking it. Young men of that age are always careless of the feelings of others. They do not have the steady character that comes later in life. They make very bad sons and even worse husbands. It is a pity Frank Churchill could not have stayed at Ens...o...b...

Wednesday 3 March Everywhere I go I hear of no one but Frank Churchill. I called on Miss Bates this morning, thinking I would find a respite, only to discover that he had called on her, and that she could talk of nothing else.

I could not think what he was doing at the Bateses so early in his stay. It was his father's doing, I suppose. Knowing Miss Bates to be in difficult circ.u.mstances, he had made sure his son paid a visit at once, as a mark of respect, and I commended him for it. If it had been left to his son, the visit would probably never have been made.

'Such a handsome young man!' said Miss Bates. 'With such an air! Mother was saying we have never seen such a fine young man--a credit to Mr Weston--Mrs Weston so pleased--stayed with us for three-quarters of an hour--sure I do not know what we have done to deserve such a distinction. We were all very pleased with him, were we not, Jane?'

Thus appealed to, Miss Fairfax said that he was a very pleasing young man, but her words were not heartfelt. As she is a woman of discernment and taste, if she has found something lacking in him, then something lacking there must be. I tried to encourage her to say more, but she would not be drawn.

'He called to pay his respects to Jane. He met her at Weymouth. You remember I told you that Jane went to Weymouth? That is where she caught her shocking cold. It was when she was nearly swept overboard, I am sure.'

'No,' Jane murmured, but her aunt would not be silenced.

'You wrote to us not long afterwards, Jane, my dear, and that was when you mentioned you were not feeling well. Mrs Campbell had commented on it, you said. You told us you were in low spirits, and had been glad to leave Weymouth behind.'

I found myself wondering again if Frank Churchill had offended her there. That would account for her low spirits, her relief at leaving Weymouth behind, and it would fit in with my belief of him. Finding her to be elegant and accomplished, he had perhaps mistaken her for a woman of fas.h.i.+on and behaved charmingly towards her, but had then ignored her when he had discovered that she was destined to become a governess. Perhaps he had even flirted with her, or made love to her, before learning his mistake. Seeing her in Highbury must have been a shock to him, and his feelings of guilt probably accounted for his early call.

'It is my belief that that is where she caught such a shocking cold. Mr Perry is in agreement with me,' said Miss Bates.

Miss Fairfax protested that she was well, and I did not add to her distress by saying that she did not look well, but even so, I resolved to send Miss Bates some chickens, in the hope they might tempt Miss Fairfax to eat. More than that I could not do, without arousing the suspicions that Cole had entertained of my being in love with her.

I begin to think such a sentiment impossible. She is graceful and charming, but there is a lack of warmth in her that I am finding it hard to ignore.

Thursday 4 March I found the Westons at Hartfield this morning, talking about Frank. I did not want to speak of him, but I could not very well leave, so I took up a newspaper and studied it intently.

'I told you he would come!' said Mr Weston. 'Did I not say that he would be with us in the spring? I knew how it would be. As soon as Mrs Churchill could spare him, he came straight away, and he is very glad he did. He told me so himself.'

Weston turned to Emma.

'He admires you greatly,' he said.

So! He had seen Emma. I gave a harrumph behind my newspaper. It was a remark which could not fail to please her--or to add to her vanity.

'He thinks you very beautiful and charming,' said Mrs Weston.

If anything was destined to make Emma even more conceited than usual, it was the arrival of Frank Churchill! What hope is there for her better nature to develop if she is constantly surrounded by flattery? I am sure the Westons mean Emma to marry him. That was where all these remarks about her beauty and her charming nature tended.