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Emma
by Jane Austen
VOLUME I
CHAPTER IV
Harriet Smith's intimacy at Hartfield was soon a settled thing.
Quick and decided in her ways, Emma lost no time in inviting, encouraging,
and telling her to come very often; and as their acquaintance increased,
so did their satisfaction in each other. As a walking companion,Emma
had very early foreseen how useful she might find her. In that respect
Mrs. Weston's loss had been important. Her father never went beyond
the shrubbery, where two divisions of the ground sufficed him for
his long walk, or his short, as the year varied; and since Mrs.
Weston's marriage her exercise had been too much confined. She had
ventured once alone to Randalls, but it was not pleasant; and a
Harriet Smith, therefore, one whom she could summon at any time
to a walk, would be a valuable addition to her privileges. But in
every respect, as she saw more of her, she approved her, and was
confirmed in all her kind designs.
Harriet certainly was not clever, but she had a sweet, docile,
grateful disposition, was totally free from conceit, and only desiring
to be guided by any one she looked up to. Her early attachment to
herself was very amiable; and her inclination for good company,and
power of appreciating what was elegant and clever, shewed that there
was no want of taste, though strength of understanding must not
be expected. Altogether she was quite convinced of Harriet Smith's
being exactly the young friend she wanted--exactly the something
which her home required. Such a friend as Mrs. Weston was out of
the question. Two such could never be granted. Two such she did
not want. It was quite a different sort of thing, a sentiment distinct
and independent. Mrs. Weston was the object of a regard which had
its basis in gratitude and esteem. Harriet would be loved as one
to whom she could be useful. For Mrs. Weston there was nothing to
be done; for Harriet every thing.
Her first attempts at usefulness were in an endeavour to find out
who were the parents, but Harriet could not tell. She was ready
to tell every thing in her power, but on this subject questions
were vain. Emma was obliged to fancy what she liked--but she could
never believe that in the same situation she should not have discovered
the truth. Harriet had no penetration. She had been satisfied to
hear and believe just what Mrs. Goddard chose to tell her; and looked
no farther.
Mrs. Goddard, and the teachers, and the girls and the affairs of
the school in general, formed naturally a great part of the conversation--and
but for her acquaintance with the Martins of Abbey-Mill Farm, it
must have been the whole. But the Martins occupied her thoughts
a good deal; she had spent two very happy months with them, and
now loved to talk of the pleasures of her visit, and describe the
many comforts and wonders of the place. Emma encouraged her talkativeness--
amused by such a picture of another set of beings, and enjoying
the youthful simplicity which could speak with so much exultation
of Mrs. Martin's having "two parlours, two very good parlours,
indeed; one of them quite as large as Mrs. Goddard's drawing-room;
and of her having an upper maid who had lived five-and-twenty years
with her; and of their having eight cows, two of them lderneys,
and one a little Welch cow, a very pretty little Welch cow indeed;
and of Mrs. Martin's saying as she was so fond of it, it should
be called her cow; and of their having a very handsome summer-house
in their garden, where some day next year they were all to drink
tea:-- a very handsome summer-house, large enough to hold a dozen
people."
For some time she was amused, without thinking beyond the immediate
cause; but as she came to understand the family better, other feelings
arose. She had taken up a wrong idea, fancying it was a mother and
daughter, a son and son's wife, who all lived together; but when
it appeared that the Mr. Martin, who bore a part in the narrative,
and was always mentioned with approbation for his great good-nature
in doing something or other, was a single man; that there was no
young Mrs. Martin, no wife in the case; she did suspect danger to
her poor little friend from all this hospitality and kindness, and
that, if she were not taken care of, she might be required to sink
herself forever.
With this inspiriting notion, her questions increased in number
and meaning; and she particularly led Harriet to talk more of Mr.
Martin, and there was evidently no dislike to it. Harriet was very
ready to speak of the share he had had in their moonlight walks
and merry evening games; and dwelt a good deal upon his being so
very good-humoured and obliging. He had gone three miles round one
day in order to bring her some walnuts, because she had said how
fond she was of them, and in every thing else he was so very obliging.
He had his shepherd's son into the parlour one night on purpose
to sing to her. She was very fond of singing. He could sing a little
himself. She believed he was very clever, and understood every thing.
He had a very fine flock, and, while she was with them, he had been
bid more for his wool than any body in the country. She believed
every body spoke well of him. His mother and sisters were very fond
of him. Mrs. Martin had told her one day (and there was a blush
as she said it,) that it was impossible for any body to be a better
son, and therefore she was sure, whenever he married, he would make
a good husband. Not that she wanted him to marry. She was in no
hurry at all.
"Well done, Mrs. Martin!" thought Emma. "You know
what you are about."
"And when she had come away, Mrs. Martin was so very kind
as to send Mrs. Goddard a beautiful goose--the finest goose Mrs.
Goddard had ever seen. Mrs. Goddard had dressed it on a Sunday,
and asked all the three teachers, Miss Nash, and Miss Prince, and
Miss Richardson, to sup with her."
"Mr. Martin, I suppose, is not a man of information beyond
the line of his own business? He does not read?"
"Oh yes!--that is, no--I do not know--but I believe he has
read a good deal--but not what you would think any thing of. He
reads the Agricultural Reports, and some other books that lay in
one of the window seats--but he reads all them to himself. But sometimes
of an evening, before we went to cards, he would read something
aloud out of the Elegant Extracts, very entertaining. And I know
he has read the Vicar of Wakefield. He never read the Romance of
the Forest, nor The Children of the Abbey. He had never heard of
such books before I mentioned them, but he is determined to get
them now as soon as ever he can."
The next question was--
"What sort of looking man is Mr. Martin?"
"Oh! not handsome--not at all handsome. I thought him very
plain at first, but I do not think him so plain now. One does not,
you know, after a time. But did you never see him? He is in Highbury
every now and then, and he is sure to ride through every week in
his way to Kingston. He has passed you very often."
"That may be, and I may have seen him fifty times, but without
having any idea of his name. A young farmer, whether on horseback
or on foot, is the very last sort of person to raise my curiosity.
The yeomanry are precisely the order of people with whom I feel
I can have nothing to do. A degree or two lower, and a creditable
appearance might interest me; I might hope to be useful to their
families in some way or other. But a farmer can need none of my
help, and is, therefore, in one sense, as much above my notice as
in every other he is below it."
"To be sure. Oh yes! It is not likely you should ever have
observed him; but he knows you very well indeed--I mean by sight."
"I have no doubt of his being a very respectable young man.
I know, indeed, that he is so, and, as such, wish him well. What
do you imagine his age to be?"
"He was four-and-twenty the 8th of last June, and my birthday
is the 23rd just a fortnight and a day's difference--which is very
odd."
"Only four-and-twenty. That is too young to settle. His mother
is perfectly right not to be in a hurry. They seem very comfortable
as they are, and if she were to take any pains to marry him, she
would probably repent it. Six years hence, if he could meet with
a good sort of young woman in the same rank as his own, with a little
money, it might be very desirable."
"Six years hence! Dear Miss Woodhouse, he would be thirty
years old!"
"Well, and that is as early as most men can afford to marry,
who are not born to an independence. Mr. Martin, I imagine, has
his fortune entirely to make--cannot be at all eforehand with the
world. Whatever money he might come into when his father died, whatever
his share of the family property, it is, I dare say, all afloat,
all employed in his stock, and so forth; and though, with diligence
and good luck, he may be rich in time, it is next to impossible
that he should have realised any thing yet."
"To be sure, so it is. But they live very comfortably. They
have no indoors man, else they do not want for any thing; and Mrs.
Martin talks of taking a boy another year."
"I wish you may not get into a scrape, Harriet, whenever he
does marry;--I mean, as to being acquainted with his wife--for though
his sisters, from a superior education, are not to be altogether
objected to, it does not follow that he might marry any body at
all fit for you to notice. The misfortune of your birth ought to
make you particularly careful as to your associates. There can be
no doubt of your being a gentleman's daughter, and you must support
your claim to that station by every thing within your own power,
or there will be plenty of people who would take pleasure in degrading
you."
"Yes, to be sure, I suppose there are. But while I visit at
Hartfield, and you are so kind to me, Miss Woodhouse, I am not afraid
of what any body can do."
"You understand the force of influence pretty well, Harriet;
but I would have you so firmly established in good society, as to
be independent even of Hartfield and Miss Woodhouse. I want to see
you permanently well connected, and to that end it will be advisable
to have as few odd acquaintance as may be; and, therefore, I say
that if you should still be in this country when Mr. Martin marries,
I wish you may not be drawn in by your intimacy with the sisters,
to be acquainted with the wife, who will probably be some mere farmer's
daughter, without education."
"To be sure. Yes. Not that I think Mr. Martin would ever marry
any body but what had had some education--and been very well brought
up. However, I do not mean to set up my opinion against your's--and
I am sure I shall not wish for the acquaintance of his wife. I shall
always have a great regard for the Miss Martins, especially Elizabeth,
and should be very sorry to give them up, for they are quite as
well educated as me. But if he marries a very ignorant, vulgar woman,
certainly I had better not visit her, if I can help it."
Emma watched her through the fluctuations of this speech, and saw
no alarming symptoms of love. The young man had been the first admirer,
but she trusted there was no other hold, and that there would be
no serious difficulty, on Harriet's side, to oppose any friendly
arrangement of her own.
They met Mr. Martin the very next day, as they were walking on
the Donwell road. He was on foot, and after looking very respectfully
at her, looked with most unfeigned satisfaction at her companion.
Emma was not sorry to have such an opportunity of survey; and walking
a few yards forward, while they talked together, soon made her quick
eye sufficiently acquainted with Mr. Robert Martin. His appearance
was very neat, and he looked like a sensible young man, but his
person had no other advantage; and when he came to be contrasted
with gentlemen, she thought he must lose all the ground he had gained
in Harriet's inclination. Harriet was not insensible of manner;
she had voluntarily noticed her father's gentleness with admiration
as well as wonder. Mr. Martin looked as if he did not know what
manner was.
They remained but a few minutes together, as Miss Woodhouse must
not be kept waiting; and Harriet then came running to her with a
smiling face, and in a flutter of spirits, which Miss Woodhouse
hoped very soon to compose.
"Only think of our happening to meet him!--How very odd! It
was quite a chance, he said, that he had not gone round by Randalls.
He did not think we ever walked this road. He thought we walked
towards Randalls most days. He has not been able to get the Romance
of the Forest yet. He was so busy the last time he was at Kingston
that he quite forgot it, but he goes again to-morrow. So very odd
we should happen to meet! Well, Miss Woodhouse, is he like what
you expected? What do you think of him? Do you think him so very
plain?"
"He is very plain, undoubtedly--remarkably plain:--but that
is nothing compared with his entire want of gentility. I had no
right to expect much, and I did not expect much; but I had no idea
that he could be so very clownish, so totally without air. I had
imagined him, I confess, a degree or two nearer gentility."
"To be sure," said Harriet, in a mortified voice, "he
is not so genteel as real gentlemen."
"I think, Harriet, since your acquaintance with us, you have
been repeatedly in the company of some such very real gentlemen,
that you must yourself be struck with the difference in Mr. Martin.
At Hartfield, you have had very good specimens of well educated,
well bred men. I should be surprized if, after seeing them, you
could be in company with Mr. Martin again without perceiving him
to be a very inferior creature--and rather wondering at yourself
for having ever thought him at all agreeable before. Do not you
begin to feel that now? Were not you struck? I am sure you must
have been struck by his awkward look and abrupt manner, and the
uncouthness of a voice which I heard to be wholly unmodulated as
I stood here."
"Certainly, he is not like Mr. Knightley. He has not such
a fine air and way of walking as Mr. Knightley. I see the difference
plain enough. But Mr. Knightley is so very fine a man!"
"Mr. Knightley's air is so remarkably good that it is not
fair to compare Mr. Martin with him. You might not see one in a
hundred with gentleman so plainly written as in Mr. Knightley. But
he is not the only gentleman you have been lately used to. What
say you to Mr. Weston and Mr. Elton? Compare Mr. Martin with either
of them.Compare their manner of carrying themselves; of walking;
of speaking; of being silent. You must see the difference."
"Oh yes!--there is a great difference. But Mr. Weston is almost
an old man. Mr. Weston must be between forty and fifty."
"Which makes his good manners the more valuable. The older
a person grows, Harriet, the more important it is that their manners
should not be bad; the more glaring and disgusting any loudness,
or coarseness, or awkwardness becomes. What is passable in youth
is detestable in later age. Mr. Martin is now awkward and abrupt;
what will he be at Mr. Weston's time of life?"
"There is no saying, indeed," replied Harriet rather
solemnly.
"But there may be pretty good guessing. He will be a completely
gross, vulgar farmer, totally inattentive to appearances, and thinking
of nothing but profit and loss."
"Will he, indeed? That will be very bad."
"How much his business engrosses him already is very plain
from the circumstance of his forgetting to inquire for the book
you recommended. He was a great deal too full of the market to think
of any thing else--which is just as it should be, for a thriving
man. What has he to do with books? And I have no doubt that he will
thrive, and be a very rich man in time--and his being illiterate
and coarse need not disturb us."
"I wonder he did not remember the book"--was all Harriet's
answer, and spoken with a degree of grave displeasure which Emma
thought might be safely left to itself. She, therefore, said no
more for some time. Her next beginning was,
"In one respect, perhaps, Mr. Elton's manners are superior
to Mr. Knightley's or Mr. Weston's. They have more gentleness. They
might be more safely held up as a pattern. There is an openness,
a quickness, almost a bluntness in Mr. Weston, which every body
likes in him, because there is so much good-humour with it--but
that would not do to be copied. Neither would Mr. nightley's downright,
decided, commanding sort of manner, though it suits him very well;
his figure, and look, and situation in life seem to allow it; but
if any young man were to set about copying him, he would not be
sufferable. On the contrary, I think a young man might be very safely
recommended to take Mr. Elton as a model. Mr. Elton is good-humoured,
cheerful, obliging, and gentle. He seems to me to be grown particularly
gentle of late. I do not know whether he has any design of ingratiating
himself with either of us, Harriet, by additional softness, but
it strikes me that his manners are softer than they used to be.
If he means any thing, it must be to please you. Did not I tell
you what he said of you the other day?"
She then repeated some warm personal praise which she had drawn
from Mr. Elton, and now did full justice to; and Harriet blushed
and smiled, and said she had always thought Mr. Elton very agreeable.
Mr. Elton was the very person fixed on by Emma for driving the
young farmer out of Harriet's head. She thought it would be an excellent
match; and only too palpably desirable, natural, and probable, for
her to have much merit in planning it. She feared it was what every
body else must think of and predict. It was not likely, however,
that any body should have equalled her in the date of the plan,
as it had entered her brain during the very first evening of Harriet's
coming to Hartfield. The longer she considered it, the greater was
her sense of its expediency. Mr. Elton's situation was most suitable,
quite the gentleman himself, and without low connexions; at the
same time, not of any family that could fairly object to the doubtful
birth of Harriet. He had a comfortable home for her, and Emma imagined
a very sufficient income; for though the vicarage of Highbury was
not large, he was known to have some independent property; and she
thought very highly of him as a good-humoured, well-meaning, respectable
young man, without any deficiency of useful understanding or knowledge
of the world.
She had already satisfied herself that he thought Harriet a beautiful
girl, which she trusted, with such frequent meetings at Hartfield,
was foundation enough on his side; and on Harriet's there could
be little doubt that the idea of being preferred by him would have
all the usual weight and efficacy. And he was really a very pleasing
young man, a young man whom any woman not fastidious might like.
He was reckoned very handsome; his person much admired in general,
though not by her, there being a want of elegance of feature which
she could not dispense with:--but the girl who could be gratified
by a Robert Martin's riding about the country to get walnuts for
her might very well be conquered by Mr. Elton's admiration.
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