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Emma
by Jane Austen
VOLUME II
CHAPTER VI
The next morning brought Mr. Frank Churchill again. He came with
Mrs. 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 chuse
their walk, immediately fixed on Highbury.--"He did not doubt
there being 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
to its bearing the same construction with him. They walked thither
directly.
Emma had hardly expected them: for Mr. Weston, who had called in
for half a minute, in order to hear that his son was very handsome,
knew nothing of their plans; and it was an agreeable surprize to
her, therefore, to perceive them walking up to the house together,arm
in arm. She was wanting to see him again, and especially to see
him in company with Mrs. Weston, upon his behaviour to whom her
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 words or hyperbolical
compliment that he paid his duty; nothing could be more proper or
pleasing than his whole manner to her--othing could more agreeably
denote his wish of considering her as a friend and securing her
affection. And there was time enough for Emma to form a reasonable
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 sufficiently
for 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
Emma could 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
recollecting that an old woman who had nursed him was still living,
walked in quest of her cottage from one end of the street to the
other; and though in 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 voluntarily
absenting himself; that he had not been acting a part, or making
a parade of insincere professions; and that Mr. Knightley certainly
had not done him justice.
Their first pause was at the Crown Inn, an nconsiderable house,
though the principal one of the sort, where a couple of pair of
post-horses were kept, more for the convenience of the neighbourhood
than from any run on the road; and his companions had not expected
to be detained by any interest excited there; but in passing it
they gave the history of the large room visibly added; it had been
built many years ago for a ball-room, and while the neighbourhood
had been in a particularly populous, dancing state, had been occasionally
used as such;--but such brilliant days had long passed away, and
now the highest purpose for which it was ever wanted was to accommodate
a whist club 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 two superior sashed windows which were open, to look in and
contemplate its capabilities, and lament that its original purpose
should have ceased. He saw no fault in the room, he would acknowledge
none 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 through the winter.
Why had not Miss Woodhouse revived the former good old days of the
room?--She who could do any thing in Highbury! The want of proper
families in the place, and the conviction that none beyond the place
and its immediate environs could be tempted to attend, were mentioned;
but he was not satisfied. He could not be persuaded that so many
good-looking houses as he saw around him, could not furnish numbers
enough for such a meeting; and even when particulars were given
and families described, he was still unwilling to admit that the
inconvenience of such a mixture would be any thing, or that there
would be the smallest difficulty in every body's returning into
their proper place the next morning. He argued like a young man
very much bent on dancing; and Emma was rather surprized to see
the constitution of the Weston prevail so decidedly against the
habits of the Churchills. He seemed to have all the life and spirit,
cheerful feelings, and social inclinations of his father, and nothing
of the pride or reserve of Enscombe. Of pride, indeed, there was,
perhaps, scarcely enough; his indifference to 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 him
if 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 very much obliged to you for your preparatory hint. If
the talking aunt had 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 that was proper; and I had told my father I should certainly
be at home before him--but there was no getting away, no pause;
and, to my utter astonishment, I found, when he (finding me nowhere
else) joined me there at last, that I had been actually sitting
with them very nearly three-quarters of an hour. The good lady had
not given me the 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
naturally so 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 Miss
Fairfax's complexion. "It was certainly never brilliant, but
she would not allow it to have a sickly hue in general; and there
was a softness and delicacy in her skin which gave peculiar elegance
to the character of her face." He listened with all due deference;
acknowledged that he had heard many people say the same--but yet
he must confess, that to him nothing could make amends for the want
of 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 the
effect was.
"Well," said Emma, "there is no disputing about
taste.--At least you admire her except her complexion."
He shook his head and laughed.--"I cannot separate Miss Fairfax
and 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
day of 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 prove myself 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
at Ford'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 speaking to me, you were saying something at the very moment
of this burst of my amor patriae. Do not let me lose it. I assure
you the utmost stretch of public fame would not make me amends for
the loss of any happiness in private life."
"I merely asked, whether you had known much of Miss Fairfax
and her party at Weymouth."
"And now that I understand your question, I must pronounce
it to be a very unfair one. It is always the lady's right to decide
on the degree of 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 least information
about any body, that I really think you may say what you like of
your acquaintance with her."
"May I, indeed?--Then I will speak the truth, and nothing
suits me so well. I met her frequently at Weymouth. I had known
the Campbells a 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
she is 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
knows what 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 ever been 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 belongs to Highbury. I have heard her every year of our lives
since we both began. She plays charmingly."
"You think so, do you?--I wanted the opinion of some one who
could 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 skill or
right of judging of any body's performance.--I have been used to
hear her's admired; and I remember one proof of her being thought
to play well:--a man, a very musical man, and in love with 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 seemed to 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
thought it a very strong proof."
"Certainly--very strong it was; to own the truth, a great
deal stronger than, if I had been Miss Campbell, would have been
at all agreeable to me. I could not excuse a man's having more music
than love--more ear than eye--a more acute sensibility to fine sounds
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 stranger preferred than one's very particular friend--with
a stranger it might not recur again--but the misery of having a
very particular friend always 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 have felt it: Miss Fairfax herself. She must have felt
the improper and dangerous distinction."
"As to that--I do not--"
"Oh! do not imagine that I expect an account of Miss Fairfax's
sensations from you, or from any body else. They are known to no
human being, I guess, but herself. But if she continued to play
whenever 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, it is impossible for me to say on what terms
they really were-- how it might all be behind the scenes. I can
only say that there was smoothness outwardly. But you, who have
known Miss Fairfax from a child, must be a better judge of her character,
and of how she is likely to conduct herself in critical situations,
than I can be."
"I have known her from a child, undoubtedly; we have been
children and women together; and it is natural to suppose that we
should be intimate,--that we should have taken to each other whenever
she visited her friends. But we never did. I hardly know how it
has happened; a little, perhaps, from that wickedness on my side
which was prone to take disgust towards a girl so idolized and so
cried up as she always was, by her aunt and grandmother, and all
their set. And then, her reserve--I never could attach myself to
any one so completely reserved."
"It is a most repulsive quality, indeed," said he. "Oftentimes
very convenient, no doubt, but never pleasing. There is safety in
reserve, but no attraction. One cannot love a reserved person."
"Not till the reserve ceases towards oneself; and then the
attraction may be the greater. But I must be more in want of a friend,
or an agreeable companion, than I have yet been, to take the 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 that such extreme and
perpetual cautiousness of word and manner,such a dread of giving
a distinct idea about any body, is apt to 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 the world 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 manner of considering Mr. Elton's house, which, as well as
the church, he would go and look at, and would not join them in
finding much fault with. No, he could not believe it a bad house;
not such a house as a man was to be pitied for having. If it were
to be shared with the woman he loved, he could not think any man
to be pitied for having that 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 many advantages and accommodations were attached to its size,
he could be no judge of the privations inevitably belonging to a
small one. But Emma, in her own mind, determined that he did know
what he was talking about, and that he shewed a very amiable inclination
to settle early in life, and to marry, from worthy motives. He might
not be aware of the inroads on domestic peace to be occasioned by
no housekeeper's room, or a bad butler's pantry, but no doubt he
did perfectly feel that Enscombe could not make him happy, and that
whenever he were attached, he would willingly give up much of wealth
to be allowed an early establishment.
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