Mr. Frank Churchill did not come. When the time proposeddrew near, Mrs. Weston's fears were justified in the arrivalof a letter of excuse. For the present, he could not be spared,to his "very great mortification and regret; but still he lookedforward with the hope of coming to Randalls at no distant period."
Mrs. Weston was exceedingly disappointed--much more disappointed,in fact, than her husband, though her dependence on seeing theyoung man had been so much more sober: but a sanguine temper,though for ever expecting more good than occurs, does notalways pay for its hopes by any proportionate depression.It soon flies over the present failure, and begins to hope again.For half an hour Mr. Weston was surprized and sorry; but then hebegan to perceive that Frank's coming two or three months laterwould be a much better plan; better time of year; better weather;and that he would be able, without any doubt, to stay considerablylonger with them than if he had come sooner.
These feelings rapidly restored his comfort, while Mrs. Weston,of a more apprehensive disposition, foresaw nothing but a repetitionof excuses and delays; and after all her concern for what her husbandwas to suffer, suffered a great deal more herself.
Emma was not at this time in a state of spirits to care reallyabout Mr. Frank Churchill's not coming, except as a disappointmentat Randalls. The acquaintance at present had no charm for her.She wanted, rather, to be quiet, and out of temptation; but still, as itwas desirable that she should appear, in general, like her usual self,she took care to express as much interest in the circumstance,and enter as warmly into Mr. and Mrs. Weston's disappointment,as might naturally belong to their friendship.
She was the first to announce it to Mr. Knightley; and exclaimedquite as much as was necessary, (or, being acting a part, perhapsrather more,) at the conduct of the Churchills, in keeping him away.She then proceeded to say a good deal more than she felt, of theadvantage of such an addition to their confined society in Surry;the pleasure of looking at somebody new; the gala-day to Highbury entire,which the sight of him would have made; and ending with reflectionson the Churchills again, found herself directly involved in adisagreement with Mr. Knightley; and, to her great amusement,perceived that she was taking the other side of the question from herreal opinion, and making use of Mrs. Weston's arguments against herself.
"The Churchills are very likely in fault," said Mr. Knightley,coolly; "but I dare say he might come if he would."
"I do not know why you should say so. He wishes exceedingly to come;but his uncle and aunt will not spare him."
"I cannot believe that he has not the power of coming, if he madea point of it. It is too unlikely, for me to believe it without proof."
"How odd you are! What has Mr. Frank Churchill done, to make yousuppose him such an unnatural creature?"
"I am not supposing him at all an unnatural creature, in suspectingthat he may have learnt to be above his connexions, and to carevery little for any thing but his own pleasure, from living withthose who have always set him the example of it. It is a great dealmore natural than one could wish, that a young man, brought upby those who are proud, luxurious, and selfish, should be proud,luxurious, and selfish too. If Frank Churchill had wanted to seehis father, he would have contrived it between September and January.A man at his age--what is he?--three or four-and-twenty--cannot bewithout the means of doing as much as that. It is impossible."
"That's easily said, and easily felt by you, who have alwaysbeen your own master. You are the worst judge in the world,Mr. Knightley, of the difficulties of dependence. You do not knowwhat it is to have tempers to manage."
"It is not to be conceived that a man of three or four-and-twentyshould not have liberty of mind or limb to that amount. He cannotwant money--he cannot want leisure. We know, on the contrary,that he has so much of both, that he is glad to get rid of them atthe idlest haunts in the kingdom. We hear of him for ever at somewatering-place or other. A little while ago, he was at Weymouth.This proves that he can leave the Churchills."
"Yes, sometimes he can."
"And those times are whenever he thinks it worth his while;whenever there is any temptation of pleasure."
"It is very unfair to judge of any body's conduct, without anintimate knowledge of their situation. Nobody, who has not beenin the interior of a family, can say what the difficultiesof any individual of that family may be. We ought to beacquainted with Enscombe, and with Mrs. Churchill's temper,before we pretend to decide upon what her nephew can do.He may, at times, be able to do a great deal more than he can at others."
"There is one thing, Emma, which a man can always do, if he chuses,and that is, his duty; not by manoeuvring and finessing, but by vigourand resolution. It is Frank Churchill's duty to pay this attentionto his father. He knows it to be so, by his promises and messages;but if he wished to do it, it might be done. A man who felt rightlywould say at once, simply and resolutely, to Mrs. Churchill--`Every sacrifice of mere pleasure you will always find me ready to maketo your convenience; but I must go and see my father immediately.I know he would be hurt by my failing in such a mark of respect to himon the present occasion. I shall, therefore, set off to-morrow.'--If he would say so to her at once, in the tone of decision becominga man, there would be no opposition made to his going."
"No," said Emma, laughing; "but perhaps there might be some made to hiscoming back again. Such language for a young man entirely dependent,to use!--Nobody but you, Mr. Knightley, would imagine it possible.But you have not an idea of what is requisite in situations directlyopposite to your own. Mr. Frank Churchill to be making sucha speech as that to the uncle and aunt, who have brought him up,and are to provide for him!--Standing up in the middle of the room,I suppose, and speaking as loud as he could!--How can you imaginesuch conduct practicable?"
"Depend upon it, Emma, a sensible man would find no difficulty in it.He would feel himself in the right; and the declaration--made,of course, as a man of sense would make it, in a proper manner--would do him more good, raise him higher, fix his interest strongerwith the people he depended on, than all that a line of shiftsand expedients can ever do. Respect would be added to affection.They would feel that they could trust him; that the nephew who haddone rightly by his father, would do rightly by them; for they know,as well as he does, as well as all the world must know, that heought to pay this visit to his father; and while meanly exertingtheir power to delay it, are in their hearts not thinking the betterof him for submitting to their whims. Respect for right conductis felt by every body. If he would act in this sort of manner,on principle, consistently, regularly, their little minds would bendto his."
"I rather doubt that. You are very fond of bending little minds;but where little minds belong to rich people in authority,I think they have a knack of swelling out, till they are quite asunmanageable as great ones. I can imagine, that if you, as you are,Mr. Knightley, were to be transported and placed all at once inMr. Frank Churchill's situation, you would be able to say and dojust what you have been recommending for him; and it might havea very good effect. The Churchills might not have a word to sayin return; but then, you would have no habits of early obedienceand long observance to break through. To him who has, it mightnot be so easy to burst forth at once into perfect independence,and set all their claims on his gratitude and regard at nought.He may have as strong a sense of what would be right, as you can have,without being so equal, under particular circumstances, to act upto it."
"Then it would not be so strong a sense. If it failed to produceequal exertion, it could not be an equal conviction."
"Oh, the difference of situation and habit! I wish you would tryto understand what an amiable young man may be likely to feelin directly opposing those, whom as child and boy he has beenlooking up to all his life."
"Our amiable young man is a very weak young man, if this be the firstoccasion of his carrying through a resolution to do right againstthe will of others. It ought to have been a habit with him bythis time, of following his duty, instead of consulting expediency.I can allow for the fears of the child, but not of the man.As he became rational, he ought to have roused himself and shaken offall that was unworthy in their authority. He ought to have opposedthe first attempt on their side to make him slight his father.Had he begun as he ought, there would have been no difficulty now."
"We shall never agree about him," cried Emma; "but that isnothing extraordinary. I have not the least idea of his beinga weak young man: I feel sure that he is not. Mr. Weston wouldnot be blind to folly, though in his own son; but he is very likelyto have a more yielding, complying, mild disposition than would suityour notions of man's perfection. I dare say he has; and thoughit may cut him off from some advantages, it will secure him many others."
"Yes; all the advantages of sitting still when he ought to move,and of leading a life of mere idle pleasure, and fancying himselfextremely expert in finding excuses for it. He can sit down andwrite a fine flourishing letter, full of professions and falsehoods,and persuade himself that he has hit upon the very best methodin the world of preserving peace at home and preventing his father'shaving any right to complain. His letters disgust me."
"Your feelings are singular. They seem to satisfy every body else."
"I suspect they do not satisfy Mrs. Weston. They hardly cansatisfy a woman of her good sense and quick feelings: standing ina mother's place, but without a mother's affection to blind her.It is on her account that attention to Randalls is doubly due,and she must doubly feel the omission. Had she been a personof consequence herself, he would have come I dare say; and it wouldnot have signified whether he did or no. Can you think your friendbehindhand in these sort of considerations? Do you suppose shedoes not often say all this to herself? No, Emma, your amiableyoung man can be amiable only in French, not in English. He may bevery `aimable,' have very good manners, and be very agreeable; but hecan have no English delicacy towards the feelings of other people:nothing really amiable about him."
"You seem determined to think ill of him."
"Me!--not at all," replied Mr. Knightley, rather displeased; "I donot want to think ill of him. I should be as ready to acknowledgehis merits as any other man; but I hear of none, except what aremerely personal; that he is well-grown and good-looking, with smooth,plausible manners."
"Well, if he have nothing else to recommend him, he will be atreasure at Highbury. We do not often look upon fine young men,well-bred and agreeable. We must not be nice and ask for allthe virtues into the bargain. Cannot you imagine, Mr. Knightley,what a sensation his coming will produce? There will be but one subjectthroughout the parishes of Donwell and Highbury; but one interest--one object of curiosity; it will be all Mr. Frank Churchill;we shall think and speak of nobody else."
"You will excuse my being so much over-powered. If I find himconversable, I shall be glad of his acquaintance; but if he is onlya chattering coxcomb, he will not occupy much of my time or thoughts."
"My idea of him is, that he can adapt his conversation to the tasteof every body, and has the power as well as the wish of beinguniversally agreeable. To you, he will talk of farming; to me,of drawing or music; and so on to every body, having that generalinformation on all subjects which will enable him to follow the lead,or take the lead, just as propriety may require, and to speakextremely well on each; that is my idea of him."
"And mine," said Mr. Knightley warmly, "is, that if he turn out anything like it, he will be the most insufferable fellow breathing!What! at three-and-twenty to be the king of his company--the great man--the practised politician, who is to read every body's character,and make every body's talents conduce to the display of hisown superiority; to be dispensing his flatteries around, that hemay make all appear like fools compared with himself! My dear Emma,your own good sense could not endure such a puppy when it cameto the point."
"I will say no more about him," cried Emma, "you turn everything to evil. We are both prejudiced; you against, I for him;and we have no chance of agreeing till he is really here."
"Prejudiced! I am not prejudiced."
"But I am very much, and without being at all ashamed of it.My love for Mr. and Mrs. Weston gives me a decided prejudice inhis favour."
"He is a person I never think of from one month's end to another,"said Mr. Knightley, with a degree of vexation, which made Emmaimmediately talk of something else, though she could not comprehendwhy he should be angry.
To take a dislike to a young man, only because he appeared to beof a different disposition from himself, was unworthy the realliberality of mind which she was always used to acknowledge in him;for with all the high opinion of himself, which she had often laidto his charge, she had never before for a moment supposed it couldmake him unjust to the merit of another.