Volume I: Chapter IX

by Jane Austen

　　Mr. Knightley might quarrel with her, but Emma could not quarrelwith herself. He was so much displeased, that it was longer thanusual before he came to Hartfield again; and when they did meet,his grave looks shewed that she was not forgiven. She was sorry,but could not repent. On the contrary, her plans and proceedingswere more and more justified and endeared to her by the generalappearances of the next few days.

　　The Picture, elegantly framed, came safely to hand soon afterMr. Elton's return, and being hung over the mantelpiece of the commonsitting-room, he got up to look at it, and sighed out his half sentencesof admiration just as he ought; and as for Harriet's feelings, they werevisibly forming themselves into as strong and steady an attachmentas her youth and sort of mind admitted. Emma was soon perfectlysatisfied of Mr. Martin's being no otherwise remembered, than ashe furnished a contrast with Mr. Elton, of the utmost advantage to the latter.

　　Her views of improving her little friend's mind, by a great dealof useful reading and conversation, had never yet led to more thana few first chapters, and the intention of going on to-morrow.It was much easier to chat than to study; much pleasanter to lether imagination range and work at Harriet's fortune, than to belabouring to enlarge her comprehension or exercise it on sober facts;and the only literary pursuit which engaged Harriet at present,the only mental provision she was making for the evening of life,was the collecting and transcribing all the riddles of every sortthat she could meet with, into a thin quarto of hot-pressed paper,made up by her friend, and ornamented with ciphers and trophies.

　　In this age of literature, such collections on a very grand scaleare not uncommon. Miss Nash, head-teacher at Mrs. Goddard's,had written out at least three hundred; and Harriet, who had takenthe first hint of it from her, hoped, with Miss Woodhouse's help,to get a great many more. Emma assisted with her invention,memory and taste; and as Harriet wrote a very pretty hand,it was likely to be an arrangement of the first order, in formas well as quantity.

　　Mr. Woodhouse was almost as much interested in the business as the girls,and tried very often to recollect something worth their putting in."So many clever riddles as there used to be when he was young-- hewondered he could not remember them! but he hoped he should in time."And it always ended in "Kitty, a fair but frozen maid."

　　His good friend Perry, too, whom he had spoken to on the subject,did not at present recollect any thing of the riddle kind;but he had desired Perry to be upon the watch, and as he went aboutso much, something, he thought, might come from that quarter.

　　It was by no means his daughter's wish that the intellects ofHighbury in general should be put under requisition. Mr. Eltonwas the only one whose assistance she asked. He was invitedto contribute any really good enigmas, charades, or conundrumsthat he might recollect; and she had the pleasure of seeing himmost intently at work with his recollections; and at the same time,as she could perceive, most earnestly careful that nothing ungallant,nothing that did not breathe a compliment to the sex should passhis lips. They owed to him their two or three politest puzzles;and the joy and exultation with which at last he recalled,and rather sentimentally recited, that well-known charade,

　　My first doth affliction denote, Which my second is destin'd to feel And my whole is the best antidote That affliction to soften and heal.--made her quite sorry to acknowledge that they had transcribed itsome pages ago already.

　　"Why will not you write one yourself for us, Mr. Elton?" said she;"that is the only security for its freshness; and nothing could beeasier to you."

　　"Oh no! he had never written, hardly ever, any thing of the kindin his life. The stupidest fellow! He was afraid not even MissWoodhouse"--he stopt a moment-- "or Miss Smith could inspire him."

　　The very next day however produced some proof of inspiration.He called for a few moments, just to leave a piece of paper on thetable containing, as he said, a charade, which a friend of his hadaddressed to a young lady, the object of his admiration, but which,from his manner, Emma was immediately convinced must be his own.

　　"I do not offer it for Miss Smith's collection," said he."Being my friend's, I have no right to expose it in any degreeto the public eye, but perhaps you may not dislike looking at it."

　　The speech was more to Emma than to Harriet, which Emmacould understand. There was deep consciousness about him,and he found it easier to meet her eye than her friend's.He was gone the next moment:--after another moment's pause,

　　"Take it," said Emma, smiling, and pushing the paper towardsHarriet--"it is for you. Take your own."

　　But Harriet was in a tremor, and could not touch it; and Emma,never loth to be first, was obliged to examine it herself.

　　To Miss-- CHARADE. My first displays the wealth and pomp of kings, Lords of the earth! their luxury and ease. Another view of man, my second brings, Behold him there, the monarch of the seas! But ah! united, what reverse we have! Man's boasted power and freedom, all are flown; Lord of the earth and sea, he bends a slave, And woman, lovely woman, reigns alone. Thy ready wit the word will soon supply, May its approval beam in that soft eye!She cast her eye over it, pondered, caught the meaning, read it throughagain to be quite certain, and quite mistress of the lines, and thenpassing it to Harriet, sat happily smiling, and saying to herself,while Harriet was puzzling over the paper in all the confusionof hope and dulness, "Very well, Mr. Elton, very well indeed.I have read worse charades. Courtship--a very good hint. I giveyou credit for it. This is feeling your way. This is saying veryplainly-- `Pray, Miss Smith, give me leave to pay my addresses to you.Approve my charade and my intentions in the same glance.'

　　May its approval beam in that soft eye!Harriet exactly. Soft is the very word for her eye--of all epithets,the justest that could be given.

　　Thy ready wit the word will soon supply. Humph--Harriet's ready wit! All the better. A man must be very muchin love, indeed, to describe her so. Ah! Mr. Knightley, I wishyou had the benefit of this; I think this would convince you.For once in your life you would be obliged to own yourself mistaken.An excellent charade indeed! and very much to the purpose.Things must come to a crisis soon now."

　　She was obliged to break off from these very pleasant observations,which were otherwise of a sort to run into great length, by theeagerness of Harriet's wondering questions.

　　"What can it be, Miss Woodhouse?--what can it be? I have not an idea--Icannot guess it in the least. What can it possibly be? Do tryto find it out, Miss Woodhouse. Do help me. I never saw any thingso hard. Is it kingdom? I wonder who the friend was--and who couldbe the young lady. Do you think it is a good one? Can it be woman?

　　And woman, lovely woman, reigns alone. Can it be Neptune?

　　Behold him there, the monarch of the seas!Or a trident? or a mermaid? or a shark? Oh, no! shark is onlyone syllable. It must be very clever, or he would not have brought it.Oh! Miss Woodhouse, do you think we shall ever find it out?"

　　"Mermaids and sharks! Nonsense! My dear Harriet, what are youthinking of? Where would be the use of his bringing us a charade madeby a friend upon a mermaid or a shark? Give me the paper and listen.

　　For Miss ----------, read Miss Smith.

　　My first displays the wealth and pomp of kings, Lords of the earth! their luxury and ease. That is court.

　　Another view of man, my second brings; Behold him there, the monarch of the seas!That is ship;--plain as it can be.--Now for the cream.

　　But ah! united, (courtship, you know,) what reverse we have! Man's boasted power and freedom, all are flown. Lord of the earth and sea, he bends a slave, And woman, lovely woman, reigns alone. A very proper compliment!--and then follows the application,which I think, my dear Harriet, you cannot find much difficultyin comprehending. Read it in comfort to yourself. There canbe no doubt of its being written for you and to you."

　　Harriet could not long resist so delightful a persuasion.She read the concluding lines, and was all flutter and happiness.She could not speak. But she was not wanted to speak. It was enoughfor her to feel. Emma spoke for her.

　　"There is so pointed, and so particular a meaning in this compliment,"said she, "that I cannot have a doubt as to Mr. Elton's intentions.You are his object-- and you will soon receive the completest proofof it. I thought it must be so. I thought I could not be so deceived;but now, it is clear; the state of his mind is as clear and decided,as my wishes on the subject have been ever since I knew you.Yes, Harriet, just so long have I been wanting the very circumstanceto happen what has happened. I could never tell whether an attachmentbetween you and Mr. Elton were most desirable or most natural.Its probability and its eligibility have really so equalled eachother! I am very happy. I congratulate you, my dear Harriet, with allmy heart. This is an attachment which a woman may well feel pridein creating. This is a connexion which offers nothing but good.It will give you every thing that you want--consideration, independence,a proper home--it will fix you in the centre of all your real friends,close to Hartfield and to me, and confirm our intimacy for ever.This, Harriet, is an alliance which can never raise a blush in eitherof us."

　　"Dear Miss Woodhouse!"--and "Dear Miss Woodhouse," was all that Harriet,with many tender embraces could articulate at first; but when theydid arrive at something more like conversation, it was sufficientlyclear to her friend that she saw, felt, anticipated, and rememberedjust as she ought. Mr. Elton's superiority had very ample acknowledgment.

　　"Whatever you say is always right," cried Harriet, "and thereforeI suppose, and believe, and hope it must be so; but otherwise I couldnot have imagined it. It is so much beyond any thing I deserve.Mr. Elton, who might marry any body! There cannot be two opinionsabout him. He is so very superior. Only think of those sweetverses--"To Miss --------." Dear me, how clever!--Could it reallybe meant for me?"

　　"I cannot make a question, or listen to a question about that.It is a certainty. Receive it on my judgment. It is a sortof prologue to the play, a motto to the chapter; and will be soonfollowed by matter-of-fact prose."

　　"It is a sort of thing which nobody could have expected. I am sure,a month ago, I had no more idea myself!--The strangest things dotake place!"

　　"When Miss Smiths and Mr. Eltons get acquainted--they do indeed--andreally it is strange; it is out of the common course that what isso evidently, so palpably desirable--what courts the pre-arrangementof other people, should so immediately shape itself into the proper form.You and Mr. Elton are by situation called together; you belongto one another by every circumstance of your respective homes.Your marrying will be equal to the match at Randalls. There doesseem to be a something in the air of Hartfield which gives loveexactly the right direction, and sends it into the very channelwhere it ought to flow.

　　The course of true love never did run smooth--A Hartfield edition of Shakespeare would have a long note on that passage."

　　"That Mr. Elton should really be in love with me,--me, of all people,who did not know him, to speak to him, at Michaelmas! And he,the very handsomest man that ever was, and a man that every bodylooks up to, quite like Mr. Knightley! His company so sought after,that every body says he need not eat a single meal by himself if hedoes not chuse it; that he has more invitations than there are daysin the week. And so excellent in the Church! Miss Nash has put downall the texts he has ever preached from since he came to Highbury.Dear me! When I look back to the first time I saw him! How littledid I think!-- The two Abbots and I ran into the front room andpeeped through the blind when we heard he was going by, and MissNash came and scolded us away, and staid to look through herself;however, she called me back presently, and let me look too,which was very good-natured. And how beautiful we thought he looked!He was arm-in-arm with Mr. Cole."

　　"This is an alliance which, whoever--whatever your friends may be,must be agreeable to them, provided at least they have common sense;and we are not to be addressing our conduct to fools. If theyare anxious to see you happily married, here is a man whose amiablecharacter gives every assurance of it;--if they wish to have yousettled in the same country and circle which they have chosento place you in, here it will be accomplished; and if their onlyobject is that you should, in the common phrase, be well married,here is the comfortable fortune, the respectable establishment,the rise in the world which must satisfy them."

　　"Yes, very true. How nicely you talk; I love to hear you.You understand every thing. You and Mr. Elton are one as cleveras the other. This charade!--If I had studied a twelvemonth,I could never have made any thing like it."

　　"I thought he meant to try his skill, by his manner of decliningit yesterday."

　　"I do think it is, without exception, the best charade I ever read."

　　"I never read one more to the purpose, certainly."

　　"It is as long again as almost all we have had before."

　　"I do not consider its length as particularly in its favour.Such things in general cannot be too short."

　　Harriet was too intent on the lines to hear. The most satisfactorycomparisons were rising in her mind.

　　"It is one thing," said she, presently--her cheeks in a glow--"tohave very good sense in a common way, like every body else,and if there is any thing to say, to sit down and write a letter,and say just what you must, in a short way; and another, to writeverses and charades like this."

　　Emma could not have desired a more spirited rejection of Mr. Martin's prose.

　　"Such sweet lines!" continued Harriet--"these two last!--Buthow shall I ever be able to return the paper, or say I have foundit out?--Oh! Miss Woodhouse, what can we do about that?"

　　"Leave it to me. You do nothing. He will be here this evening,I dare say, and then I will give it him back, and some nonsenseor other will pass between us, and you shall not be committed.--Yoursoft eyes shall chuse their own time for beaming. Trust to me."

　　"Oh! Miss Woodhouse, what a pity that I must not write this beautifulcharade into my book! I am sure I have not got one half so good."

　　"Leave out the two last lines, and there is no reason why youshould not write it into your book."

　　"Oh! but those two lines are"--

　　--"The best of all. Granted;--for private enjoyment; and for privateenjoyment keep them. They are not at all the less written you know,because you divide them. The couplet does not cease to be, nor doesits meaning change. But take it away, and all appropriation ceases,and a very pretty gallant charade remains, fit for any collection.Depend upon it, he would not like to have his charade slighted,much better than his passion. A poet in love must be encouraged inboth capacities, or neither. Give me the book, I will write it down,and then there can be no possible reflection on you."

　　Harriet submitted, though her mind could hardly separate the parts,so as to feel quite sure that her friend were not writing downa declaration of love. It seemed too precious an offering for anydegree of publicity.

　　"I shall never let that book go out of my own hands," said she.

　　"Very well," replied Emma; "a most natural feeling; and the longerit lasts, the better I shall be pleased. But here is my fathercoming: you will not object to my reading the charade to him.It will be giving him so much pleasure! He loves any thing ofthe sort, and especially any thing that pays woman a compliment.He has the tenderest spirit of gallantry towards us all!-- You mustlet me read it to him."

　　Harriet looked grave.

　　"My dear Harriet, you must not refine too much upon thischarade.--You will betray your feelings improperly, if you aretoo conscious and too quick, and appear to affix more meaning,or even quite all the meaning which may be affixed to it.Do not be overpowered by such a little tribute of admiration.If he had been anxious for secrecy, he would not have left the paperwhile I was by; but he rather pushed it towards me than towards you.Do not let us be too solemn on the business. He has encouragementenough to proceed, without our sighing out our souls over this charade."

　　"Oh! no--I hope I shall not be ridiculous about it. Do as you please."

　　Mr. Woodhouse came in, and very soon led to the subject again,by the recurrence of his very frequent inquiry of "Well, my dears,how does your book go on?--Have you got any thing fresh?"

　　"Yes, papa; we have something to read you, something quite fresh.A piece of paper was found on the table this morning--(dropt,we suppose, by a fairy)-- containing a very pretty charade, and wehave just copied it in."

　　She read it to him, just as he liked to have any thing read,slowly and distinctly, and two or three times over, with explanationsof every part as she proceeded-- and he was very much pleased, and,as she had foreseen, especially struck with the complimentary conclusion.

　　"Aye, that's very just, indeed, that's very properly said.Very true. `Woman, lovely woman.' It is such a pretty charade,my dear, that I can easily guess what fairy brought it.-- Nobodycould have written so prettily, but you, Emma."

　　Emma only nodded, and smiled.--After a little thinking,and a very tender sigh, he added,

　　"Ah! it is no difficulty to see who you take after! Your dear motherwas so clever at all those things! If I had but her memory! But Ican remember nothing;--not even that particular riddle which youhave heard me mention; I can only recollect the first stanza;and there are several.

　　Kitty, a fair but frozen maid, Kindled a flame I yet deplore, The hood-wink'd boy I called to aid, Though of his near approach afraid, So fatal to my suit before. And that is all that I can recollect of it--but it is very cleverall the way through. But I think, my dear, you said you had got it."

　　"Yes, papa, it is written out in our second page. We copied itfrom the Elegant Extracts. It was Garrick's, you know."

　　"Aye, very true.--I wish I could recollect more of it.

　　Kitty, a fair but frozen maid. The name makes me think of poor Isabella; for she was very nearbeing christened Catherine after her grandmama. I hope we shallhave her here next week. Have you thought, my dear, where youshall put her--and what room there will be for the children?"

　　"Oh! yes--she will have her own room, of course; the room she alwayshas;--and there is the nursery for the children,--just as usual,you know. Why should there be any change?"

　　"I do not know, my dear--but it is so long since she was here!--notsince last Easter, and then only for a few days.--Mr. John Knightley'sbeing a lawyer is very inconvenient.--Poor Isabella!--she is sadlytaken away from us all!--and how sorry she will be when she comes,not to see Miss Taylor here!"

　　"She will not be surprized, papa, at least."

　　"I do not know, my dear. I am sure I was very much surprizedwhen I first heard she was going to be married."

　　"We must ask Mr. and Mrs. Weston to dine with us, while Isabellais here."

　　"Yes, my dear, if there is time.--But--(in a very depressed tone)--sheis coming for only one week. There will not be time for any thing."

　　"It is unfortunate that they cannot stay longer--but it seems a caseof necessity. Mr. John Knightley must be in town again on the 28th,and we ought to be thankful, papa, that we are to have the wholeof the time they can give to the country, that two or three daysare not to be taken out for the Abbey. Mr. Knightley promisesto give up his claim this Christmas-- though you know it is longersince they were with him, than with us."

　　"It would be very hard, indeed, my dear, if poor Isabella wereto be anywhere but at Hartfield."

　　Mr. Woodhouse could never allow for Mr. Knightley's claims onhis brother, or any body's claims on Isabella, except his own.He sat musing a little while, and then said,

　　"But I do not see why poor Isabella should be obliged to go backso soon, though he does. I think, Emma, I shall try and persuadeher to stay longer with us. She and the children might stay very well."

　　"Ah! papa--that is what you never have been able to accomplish,and I do not think you ever will. Isabella cannot bear to staybehind her husband."

　　This was too true for contradiction. Unwelcome as it was, Mr. Woodhousecould only give a submissive sigh; and as Emma saw his spiritsaffected by the idea of his daughter's attachment to her husband,she immediately led to such a branch of the subject as must raise them.

　　"Harriet must give us as much of her company as she can whilemy brother and sister are here. I am sure she will be pleasedwith the children. We are very proud of the children, are not we,papa? I wonder which she will think the handsomest, Henry or John?"

　　"Aye, I wonder which she will. Poor little dears, how glad theywill be to come. They are very fond of being at Hartfield, Harriet."

　　"I dare say they are, sir. I am sure I do not know who is not."

　　"Henry is a fine boy, but John is very like his mama. Henry is the eldest,he was named after me, not after his father. John, the second,is named after his father. Some people are surprized, I believe,that the eldest was not, but Isabella would have him called Henry,which I thought very pretty of her. And he is a very clever boy,indeed. They are all remarkably clever; and they have so manypretty ways. They will come and stand by my chair, and say,`Grandpapa, can you give me a bit of string?' and once Henry asked mefor a knife, but I told him knives were only made for grandpapas.I think their father is too rough with them very often."

　　"He appears rough to you," said Emma, "because you are so verygentle yourself; but if you could compare him with other papas,you would not think him rough. He wishes his boys to be active and hardy;and if they misbehave, can give them a sharp word now and then;but he is an affectionate father--certainly Mr. John Knightleyis an affectionate father. The children are all fond of him."

　　"And then their uncle comes in, and tosses them up to the ceilingin a very frightful way!"

　　"But they like it, papa; there is nothing they like so much.It is such enjoyment to them, that if their uncle did not lay downthe rule of their taking turns, whichever began would never give wayto the other."

　　"Well, I cannot understand it."

　　"That is the case with us all, papa. One half of the world cannotunderstand the pleasures of the other."

　　Later in the morning, and just as the girls were going to separatein preparation for the regular four o'clock dinner, the heroof this inimitable charade walked in again. Harriet turned away;but Emma could receive him with the usual smile, and her quick eyesoon discerned in his the consciousness of having made a push--ofhaving thrown a die; and she imagined he was come to see how itmight turn up. His ostensible reason, however, was to ask whetherMr. Woodhouse's party could be made up in the evening without him,or whether he should be in the smallest degree necessary at Hartfield.If he were, every thing else must give way; but otherwise his friendCole had been saying so much about his dining with him--had madesuch a point of it, that he had promised him conditionally to come.

　　Emma thanked him, but could not allow of his disappointing hisfriend on their account; her father was sure of his rubber.He re-urged --she re-declined; and he seemed then about to makehis bow, when taking the paper from the table, she returned it--

　　"Oh! here is the charade you were so obliging as to leave with us;thank you for the sight of it. We admired it so much, that I haveventured to write it into Miss Smith's collection. Your friendwill not take it amiss I hope. Of course I have not transcribedbeyond the first eight lines."

　　Mr. Elton certainly did not very well know what to say.He looked rather doubtingly--rather confused; said something about"honour,"--glanced at Emma and at Harriet, and then seeing the bookopen on the table, took it up, and examined it very attentively.With the view of passing off an awkward moment, Emma smilingly said,

　　"You must make my apologies to your friend; but so good a charademust not be confined to one or two. He may be sure of every woman'sapprobation while he writes with such gallantry."

　　"I have no hesitation in saying," replied Mr. Elton, though hesitatinga good deal while he spoke; "I have no hesitation in saying--atleast if my friend feels at all as I do--I have not the smallestdoubt that, could he see his little effusion honoured as I see it,(looking at the book again, and replacing it on the table), hewould consider it as the proudest moment of his life."

　　After this speech he was gone as soon as possible. Emma could notthink it too soon; for with all his good and agreeable qualities,there was a sort of parade in his speeches which was very aptto incline her to laugh. She ran away to indulge the inclination,leaving the tender and the sublime of pleasure to Harriet's share.