Volume II: Chapter VI

by Jane Austen

　　The next morning brought Mr. Frank Churchill again. He came withMrs. Weston, to whom and to Highbury he seemed to take very cordially.He had been sitting with her, it appeared, most companionably at home,till her usual hour of exercise; and on being desired to chusetheir walk, immediately fixed on Highbury.--"He did not doubt therebeing very pleasant walks in every direction, but if left to him,he should always chuse the same. Highbury, that airy, cheerful,happy-looking Highbury, would be his constant attraction."--Highbury, with Mrs. Weston, stood for Hartfield; and she trusted toits bearing the same construction with him. They walked thither directly.

　　Emma had hardly expected them: for Mr. Weston, who had called infor half a minute, in order to hear that his son was very handsome,knew nothing of their plans; and it was an agreeable surprizeto her, therefore, to perceive them walking up to the house together,arm in arm. She was wanting to see him again, and especiallyto see him in company with Mrs. Weston, upon his behaviour to whomher opinion of him was to depend. If he were deficient there,nothing should make amends for it. But on seeing them together,she became perfectly satisfied. It was not merely in fine wordsor hyperbolical compliment that he paid his duty; nothing could bemore proper or pleasing than his whole manner to her--nothing couldmore agreeably denote his wish of considering her as a friend andsecuring her affection. And there was time enough for Emma to form areasonable judgment, as their visit included all the rest of the morning.They were all three walking about together for an hour or two--first round the shrubberies of Hartfield, and afterwards in Highbury.He was delighted with every thing; admired Hartfield sufficientlyfor Mr. Woodhouse's ear; and when their going farther was resolved on,confessed his wish to be made acquainted with the whole village,and found matter of commendation and interest much oftener than Emmacould have supposed.

　　Some of the objects of his curiosity spoke very amiable feelings.He begged to be shewn the house which his father had lived in so long,and which had been the home of his father's father; and on recollectingthat an old woman who had nursed him was still living, walked in questof her cottage from one end of the street to the other; and thoughin some points of pursuit or observation there was no positive merit,they shewed, altogether, a good-will towards Highbury in general,which must be very like a merit to those he was with.

　　Emma watched and decided, that with such feelings as were now shewn,it could not be fairly supposed that he had been ever voluntarilyabsenting himself; that he had not been acting a part, or makinga parade of insincere professions; and that Mr. Knightley certainlyhad not done him justice.

　　Their first pause was at the Crown Inn, an inconsiderable house,though the principal one of the sort, where a couple of pair ofpost-horses were kept, more for the convenience of the neighbourhoodthan from any run on the road; and his companions had not expectedto be detained by any interest excited there; but in passing it theygave the history of the large room visibly added; it had been builtmany years ago for a ball-room, and while the neighbourhood had beenin a particularly populous, dancing state, had been occasionally usedas such;--but such brilliant days had long passed away, and now thehighest purpose for which it was ever wanted was to accommodate a whistclub established among the gentlemen and half-gentlemen of the place.He was immediately interested. Its character as a ball-room caught him;and instead of passing on, he stopt for several minutes at the twosuperior sashed windows which were open, to look in and contemplateits capabilities, and lament that its original purpose shouldhave ceased. He saw no fault in the room, he would acknowledgenone which they suggested. No, it was long enough, broad enough,handsome enough. It would hold the very number for comfort.They ought to have balls there at least every fortnight throughthe winter. Why had not Miss Woodhouse revived the former goodold days of the room?--She who could do any thing in Highbury!The want of proper families in the place, and the convictionthat none beyond the place and its immediate environs could betempted to attend, were mentioned; but he was not satisfied.He could not be persuaded that so many good-looking houses as he sawaround him, could not furnish numbers enough for such a meeting;and even when particulars were given and families described, he wasstill unwilling to admit that the inconvenience of such a mixturewould be any thing, or that there would be the smallest difficultyin every body's returning into their proper place the next morning.He argued like a young man very much bent on dancing; and Emmawas rather surprized to see the constitution of the Weston prevailso decidedly against the habits of the Churchills. He seemed to haveall the life and spirit, cheerful feelings, and social inclinationsof his father, and nothing of the pride or reserve of Enscombe.Of pride, indeed, there was, perhaps, scarcely enough; his indifferenceto a confusion of rank, bordered too much on inelegance of mind.He could be no judge, however, of the evil he was holding cheap.It was but an effusion of lively spirits.

　　At last he was persuaded to move on from the front of the Crown;and being now almost facing the house where the Bateses lodged,Emma recollected his intended visit the day before, and asked himif he had paid it.

　　"Yes, oh! yes"--he replied; "I was just going to mention it.A very successful visit:--I saw all the three ladies; and felt verymuch obliged to you for your preparatory hint. If the talking aunthad taken me quite by surprize, it must have been the death of me.As it was, I was only betrayed into paying a most unreasonable visit.Ten minutes would have been all that was necessary, perhaps all thatwas proper; and I had told my father I should certainly be at homebefore him--but there was no getting away, no pause; and, to myutter astonishment, I found, when he (finding me nowhere else)joined me there at last, that I had been actually sitting with themvery nearly three-quarters of an hour. The good lady had not given methe possibility of escape before."

　　"And how did you think Miss Fairfax looking?"

　　"Ill, very ill--that is, if a young lady can ever be allowed to look ill.But the expression is hardly admissible, Mrs. Weston, is it?Ladies can never look ill. And, seriously, Miss Fairfax is naturallyso pale, as almost always to give the appearance of ill health.--A most deplorable want of complexion."

　　Emma would not agree to this, and began a warm defence of MissFairfax's complexion. "It was certainly never brilliant, but shewould not allow it to have a sickly hue in general; and there wasa softness and delicacy in her skin which gave peculiar eleganceto the character of her face." He listened with all due deference;acknowledged that he had heard many people say the same--but yet hemust confess, that to him nothing could make amends for the wantof the fine glow of health. Where features were indifferent,a fine complexion gave beauty to them all; and where they were good,the effect was--fortunately he need not attempt to describe what theeffect was.

　　"Well," said Emma, "there is no disputing about taste.--At leastyou admire her except her complexion."

　　He shook his head and laughed.--"I cannot separate Miss Fairfaxand her complexion."

　　"Did you see her often at Weymouth? Were you often in the same society?"

　　At this moment they were approaching Ford's, and he hastily exclaimed,"Ha! this must be the very shop that every body attends every dayof their lives, as my father informs me. He comes to Highbury himself,he says, six days out of the seven, and has always business at Ford's.If it be not inconvenient to you, pray let us go in, that I may provemyself to belong to the place, to be a true citizen of Highbury.I must buy something at Ford's. It will be taking out my freedom.--I dare say they sell gloves."

　　"Oh! yes, gloves and every thing. I do admire your patriotism.You will be adored in Highbury. You were very popular before you came,because you were Mr. Weston's son--but lay out half a guinea atFord's, and your popularity will stand upon your own virtues."

　　They went in; and while the sleek, well-tied parcels of "Men's Beavers"and "York Tan" were bringing down and displaying on the counter,he said--"But I beg your pardon, Miss Woodhouse, you were speakingto me, you were saying something at the very moment of this burstof my amor patriae. Do not let me lose it. I assure you the utmoststretch of public fame would not make me amends for the loss of anyhappiness in private life."

　　"I merely asked, whether you had known much of Miss Fairfaxand her party at Weymouth."

　　"And now that I understand your question, I must pronounce it to be avery unfair one. It is always the lady's right to decide on the degreeof acquaintance. Miss Fairfax must already have given her account.--I shall not commit myself by claiming more than she may chuse to allow."

　　"Upon my word! you answer as discreetly as she could do herself.But her account of every thing leaves so much to be guessed,she is so very reserved, so very unwilling to give the leastinformation about any body, that I really think you may say what youlike of your acquaintance with her."

　　"May I, indeed?--Then I will speak the truth, and nothing suits meso well. I met her frequently at Weymouth. I had known the Campbellsa little in town; and at Weymouth we were very much in the same set.Colonel Campbell is a very agreeable man, and Mrs. Campbell a friendly,warm-hearted woman. I like them all."

　　"You know Miss Fairfax's situation in life, I conclude; what sheis destined to be?"

　　"Yes--(rather hesitatingly)--I believe I do."

　　"You get upon delicate subjects, Emma," said Mrs. Weston smiling;"remember that I am here.--Mr. Frank Churchill hardly knowswhat to say when you speak of Miss Fairfax's situation in life.I will move a little farther off."

　　"I certainly do forget to think of her," said Emma, "as having everbeen any thing but my friend and my dearest friend."

　　He looked as if he fully understood and honoured such a sentiment.

　　When the gloves were bought, and they had quitted the shop again,"Did you ever hear the young lady we were speaking of, play?"said Frank Churchill.

　　"Ever hear her!" repeated Emma. "You forget how much she belongsto Highbury. I have heard her every year of our lives since weboth began. She plays charmingly."

　　"You think so, do you?--I wanted the opinion of some one whocould really judge. She appeared to me to play well, that is,with considerable taste, but I know nothing of the matter myself.--I am excessively fond of music, but without the smallest skillor right of judging of any body's performance.--I have been usedto hear her's admired; and I remember one proof of her beingthought to play well:--a man, a very musical man, and in lovewith another woman--engaged to her--on the point of marriage--would yet never ask that other woman to sit down to the instrument,if the lady in question could sit down instead--never seemedto like to hear one if he could hear the other. That, I thought,in a man of known musical talent, was some proof."

　　"Proof indeed!" said Emma, highly amused.--"Mr. Dixon is very musical,is he? We shall know more about them all, in half an hour, from you,than Miss Fairfax would have vouchsafed in half a year."

　　"Yes, Mr. Dixon and Miss Campbell were the persons; and I thoughtit a very strong proof."

　　"Certainly--very strong it was; to own the truth, a great dealstronger than, if I had been Miss Campbell, would have been at allagreeable to me. I could not excuse a man's having more musicthan love--more ear than eye--a more acute sensibility to finesounds than to my feelings. How did Miss Campbell appear to like it?"

　　"It was her very particular friend, you know."

　　"Poor comfort!" said Emma, laughing. "One would rather have a strangerpreferred than one's very particular friend--with a stranger it mightnot recur again--but the misery of having a very particular friendalways at hand, to do every thing better than one does oneself!--Poor Mrs. Dixon! Well, I am glad she is gone to settle in Ireland."

　　"You are right. It was not very flattering to Miss Campbell;but she really did not seem to feel it."

　　"So much the better--or so much the worse:--I do not know which.But be it sweetness or be it stupidity in her--quickness of friendship,or dulness of feeling--there was one person, I think, who must havefelt it: Miss Fairfax herself. She must have felt the improperand dangerous distinction."

　　"As to that--I do not--"

　　"Oh! do not imagine that I expect an account of Miss Fairfax'ssensations from you, or from any body else. They are known to nohuman being, I guess, but herself. But if she continued to playwhenever she was asked by Mr. Dixon, one may guess what one chuses."

　　"There appeared such a perfectly good understanding among them all--"he began rather quickly, but checking himself, added, "however, itis impossible for me to say on what terms they really were--how it might all be behind the scenes. I can only say that therewas smoothness outwardly. But you, who have known Miss Fairfax froma child, must be a better judge of her character, and of how sheis likely to conduct herself in critical situations, than I can be."

　　"I have known her from a child, undoubtedly; we have been childrenand women together; and it is natural to suppose that we shouldbe intimate,--that we should have taken to each other whenevershe visited her friends. But we never did. I hardly know how ithas happened; a little, perhaps, from that wickedness on my sidewhich was prone to take disgust towards a girl so idolizedand so cried up as she always was, by her aunt and grandmother,and all their set. And then, her reserve--I never could attachmyself to any one so completely reserved."

　　"It is a most repulsive quality, indeed," said he. "Oftentimesvery convenient, no doubt, but never pleasing. There is safetyin reserve, but no attraction. One cannot love a reserved person."

　　"Not till the reserve ceases towards oneself; and then the attractionmay be the greater. But I must be more in want of a friend,or an agreeable companion, than I have yet been, to takethe trouble of conquering any body's reserve to procure one.Intimacy between Miss Fairfax and me is quite out of the question.I have no reason to think ill of her--not the least--except thatsuch extreme and perpetual cautiousness of word and manner,such a dread of giving a distinct idea about any body, is aptto suggest suspicions of there being something to conceal."

　　He perfectly agreed with her: and after walking together so long,and thinking so much alike, Emma felt herself so well acquainted with him,that she could hardly believe it to be only their second meeting.He was not exactly what she had expected; less of the man of theworld in some of his notions, less of the spoiled child of fortune,therefore better than she had expected. His ideas seemed more moderate--his feelings warmer. She was particularly struck by his mannerof considering Mr. Elton's house, which, as well as the church,he would go and look at, and would not join them in finding muchfault with. No, he could not believe it a bad house; not such a houseas a man was to be pitied for having. If it were to be shared withthe woman he loved, he could not think any man to be pitied for havingthat house. There must be ample room in it for every real comfort.The man must be a blockhead who wanted more.

　　Mrs. Weston laughed, and said he did not know what he was talking about.Used only to a large house himself, and without ever thinking how manyadvantages and accommodations were attached to its size, he couldbe no judge of the privations inevitably belonging to a small one.But Emma, in her own mind, determined that he did know what hewas talking about, and that he shewed a very amiable inclinationto settle early in life, and to marry, from worthy motives.He might not be aware of the inroads on domestic peace to beoccasioned by no housekeeper's room, or a bad butler's pantry,but no doubt he did perfectly feel that Enscombe could not makehim happy, and that whenever he were attached, he would willinglygive up much of wealth to be allowed an early establishment.