'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 Goddard 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 Yorkshire 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 Enscombe.
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 circumstances, 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 fashion 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.
If Mr Woodhouse could have understood the treachery being conducted under his very nose, he would have immediately sent for Perry!
Friday 5 March
I returned to Hartfield this morning, drawn there by a desire to find out what Emma thought of Frank Churchill. She could not speak freely in front of the Westons yesterday, but I hoped that today she would tell me the truth: that he was well enough, in a frivolous sort of way, but not the kind of man to appeal to a woman of sense.
'And what do you mak
e of Frank Churchill?' I asked, as Emma sat down opposite me, adding: 'I half expected to find him here.'
'He has gone to London,' she said.
'To London?' I asked in surprise. 'There is nothing wrong, I hope? No accident that requires his presence?'
'No.' She had the goodness to look a little ashamed. 'He has gone to have his hair cut.'
I was much gratified.
'Hum! Just the trifling, silly fellow I took him for,' I said, retiring behind my newspaper.
'I hope he returns in time for the Coles' dinner party,' said Mr Woodhouse. 'It would not do to slight the Coles. Emma is going for that very reason. It is good of her, for she cannot want to go out, I am sure.'
'I thought you had made up your mind to refuse their invitation?' I said to her.
'I had,' she said uncomfortably. 'But they expressed themselves so well in their invitation that I changed my mind. I did not wish to disappoint them, and Mrs Weston particularly wished me to go,' she added, with the air of one making an excuse. 'I felt it would be wrong of me to refuse.'
I detected the reason for the change at once.
'And is Mr Churchill to be there, or will he still be having his hair cut?' I asked.
I was surprised at how scathing my words sounded.
'Of course not! And yes, he will be going to the dinner party. At least,' she said, colouring slightly, 'I suppose he will be going. I am sure I do not know. But as Mr and Mrs Weston are going, I suppose I must assume that Mr Churchill will be going, too.'
'I only hope that Emma will not come home cold,' said Mr Woodhouse. 'I have made my excuses. The Coles know that I am a sad invalid, and although they had ordered a screen for me specially so that I would not have to sit in any draughts, I told them I could not go. I have made Emma promise me that if she comes home cold, she will warm herself thoroughly, and that if she is hungry, she will take something to eat.'
I watched Emma throughout this speech, and I saw how uncomfortable she was. If Churchill had not been going to the dinner party, then I am sure Emma would have remained at home.
Saturday 6 March
I was worried about Miss Fairfax walking to the Coles' house in the cold night air, and so I called on Miss Bates this morning and offered to take her and her niece in my carriage.
'Oh, Mr Knightley, you are too kind,' said Miss Bates. 'Is he not, mother? Mr Knightley has offered to take us up in his carriage. I am sure I do not know when I have been shown such kindness.'
'It is nothing,' I said. 'I am going to the party myself, and I have to pass your door; it is no trouble.'
That was not quite true, but nevertheless, Miss Bates accepted my excuse and the time of the carriage was arranged.
Monday 8 March
After a day's work I was ready to enjoy the evening. I arranged for the carriage to be brought round in good time. I would not have taken it for myself, as I prefer to walk or ride, but I was glad to be able to show Miss Bates some attention, and to safeguard the health of her niece.
'Well, this is travelling in style, is it not, Jane?' asked Miss Bates as we drove to the Coles' house.
Miss Fairfax, thus appealed to, said it was, but she continued to be in low spirits. It is perhaps not to be expected that the Highbury air could do her any good in March, but when the weather improves, then I hope to see an improvement in her health.
We arrived. I helped the Bateses out but I did not immediately follow them inside, as Emma arrived just behind me.
As she stepped out of the carriage, I thought I had never seen her look better. Her gown could be glimpsed beneath her pelisse, and I could see that it was new. I noticed that her hair was done in a different style, and I was disappointed to think that it was all in compliment to Frank Churchill.
'This is coming as you should,' she said in her nonsensical way, as she looked at my carriage appreciatively, 'like a gentleman. I am quite glad to see you.'
I shook my head and laughed, saying: 'How lucky that we should arrive at the same moment; for, if we had first met in the drawing-room, I doubt whether you would have discerned me to be more of a gentleman than usual. You might not have distinguished how I came by my look or manner.'
'Yes I should; I am sure I should,' she said serenely.
'Nonsensical girl!'
I could not help my eyes following her as we went in, and I saw that the Coles had gone out of their way to please her. She was received with a cordial respect which could not but gratify her, and she was given all the consequence she could wish for. When the Westons arrived, their brightest smiles were for her, and Mr Weston's son went straight to her side.
I wanted to like him, but I could not. Insufferable puppy! To go to London for a haircut! And then to go straight away to Emma, and ignore the rest of the party!
I did not want to watch the two of them, but I found I could not help myself. He is of an age with her, he is handsome and charming, and what is more, the Westons wish the match. I have long suspected it, and now I am sure of it. They look upon her already as a daughter-in-law. But I cannot abide the thought of Emma being married to Frank Churchill!
To a good man, yes, one who knows her in all her moods, who can laugh at her follies and rejoice in her virtues; who will not allow her to give in to her worst instincts; one who knows her, and who, knowing her, will still love her, and love her as she should be loved.
And that man is not Frank Churchill.
I spent the rest of the evening in an unhappy state and paid little attention to the conversation over dinner. Elton and his interesting situation were talked over; Miss Fairfax's new pianoforte was discussed; and Emma talked all the time to Frank Churchill.
What could he have to say to her that was so amusing? She seemed to value his every word. I heard some mention of Weymouth, but nothing that seemed to warrant such close attention.
I was glad when dinner came to an end. The ladies left us, and the talk turned to politics. Frank Churchill took no part in the discussion. As I watched him, I could not help thinking that there was something unsettled about him, something that did not ring true. He was very taken with Emma, and mentioned her often, but I thought his remarks were shallow and immature.
The talk moved on to parish business.
'I can have nothing of interest to add,' he said, standing up, 'and so I will go and join the ladies. Perhaps I might be able to entertain them.'
Weston looked pleased at this gallantry, and Cole remarked, when he had left the room: 'An agreeable young man.'
Hah! That was not my view of him, but I did not say so.
When we had finished with parish business, we moved through to the drawing-room, and I saw that he was sitting next to Emma. On her being spoken to by Mr Cole, however, his eyes wandered to Miss Fairfax. I hoped he might be switching his affections, but no such thing. As soon as Emma spoke to him, he was all attention again.
To turn my thoughts from this gloomy scene, I engaged Harriet in conversation, for she was sitting by herself. I asked her what she had been reading, and she told me she had been reading a romance. She looked nervously at Emma as she said so, and a further question elicited the information that she had been reading it at Mrs Goddard's and not at Hartfield. She talked about the book intelligently, however, and it was clear she had given it much thought.
I saw Emma glance at me several times, and look concerned. She supposed I was finding her little friend wanting. But Harriet is much improved, and there is a sweetness to her nature that will always recommend her to people of sense. She, at least, does not fly off to London for a haircut on a whim.
My attention was caught by a bustle round the pianoforte, and Emma was called upon to sing. I was just enjoying the song when Churchill, the coxcomb, joined her, unasked. Everyone complimented him on his voice, though I could not think it was anything out of the ordinary.
Miss Fairfax then played, and her music was, as always, superior. She played with a perfect mastery of the instrument, and sang with a sweetness of tone
. But, somehow, I did not like to listen to her as much as I liked to listen to Emma.
I went to sit with Emma, and once the music was over, we fell into conversation.
'I often feel concerned that I dare not make our carriage more useful on such occasions,' she said, commending me on bringing the Bateses. 'It is not that I am without the wish; but you know how impossible my father would deem it that James should put-to for such a purpose,' she said.
'It is quite out of the question,' I said, but I was pleased with her kind thought. 'You must often wish it, I am sure.'
Her thoughts seemed to dwell on Miss Fairfax.
'This present from the Campbells--this pianoforte is very kindly given,' she said.
It had been the talk of the evening, that Miss Fairfax had received a pianoforte.
I agreed, but said they would have done better had they given her notice of it.
'Surprises are foolish things. The pleasure is not enhanced, and the inconvenience is often considerable,' I said.
Miss Fairfax and Mr Churchill were still singing, but Miss Fairfax's voice was growing thick, and I had to urge Miss Bates to step in.
Emma did not seem to like my interference, but her displeasure was soon forgotten when singing gave way to dancing, and Frank Churchill claimed her hand.
I was obliged to sit and watch them, and to listen to Mr Cole when he said had never seen anything finer, though I privately thought that Frank Churchill's dancing was remarkably wooden. There was no grace to his movements, and twice he forgot the steps.
Tuesday 9 March
As I was passing Miss Bates's house on my way to Kingston this morning, she hailed me from the window.
I asked after her niece, and cut short her effusive thanks for the use of my carriage by asking if she wanted anything from Kingston. She could not think of anything, but invited me in, and I was inclined to accept her offer as she said that Emma was there. I was just about to go inside when I learned that Frank Churchill was there as well, so I declined.