Mr Knightley’s Diary (15 page)

'Nevertheless, it sounds as though it would be a good match,' he remarked.

'It would take her away from Hartfield and all her friends,' I returned. 'Churchill would carry her off to Enscombe in Yorkshire, and separate her from her father and sister as effectively as if he took her off to France. She would not be comfortable there, away from everyone and everything she knows. At the Abbey, she is only sixteen miles from her sister, and close to her father--'

'At the Abbey?' he asked.

'I mean, of course, that at
Highbury
she is only sixteen miles from her sister, and close to her father.'

'But you said the Abbey,' he pointed out. 'Your mistake was revealing. You never seem to talk of anyone but Emma. You told me yourself that you have never met anyone you like better. It is as plain as a pikestaff. I have thought so ever since our last meeting. You should marry her, Knightley.'

'Marry Emma? Nonsense! I have known her all my life.'

'A very good basis for marriage. Think of your brother. He has known Isabella all his life, and I have yet to see a happier couple.'

'No, it would not do. I am too old for her,' I protested.

'Nonsense. You are in your prime.'

'She is too young for me,' I said, shaking my head.

'She is twenty-one. You're a clever man, George,' he said, 'but sometimes you cannot see what is under your nose. Emma is the perfect wife for you, and you are the perfect husband for her. I have known it for many months. If you do not ask her yourself, then you cannot complain if someone else does.'

'Good. I would like to see her married,' I said. 'Just not to Frank Churchill.'

'Jealous?'

'Of course not! Why should I be jealous of a frippery fellow like Frank Churchill?'

He laughed at me, but then he grew serious.

'If she marries, your life would change,' he said. 'There would be no more evenings spent at Hartfield. Her marriage would take her away.'

'She would never move far from her father. She would find a man from Surrey.'

'And would you be able to sit with her every evening, if she did?' he asked.

'A man from Highbury then!' I said impatiently.

'Who? You have already discounted Elton, and quite right, too. She is too good for Elton. But who else is there? She will marry no one related to Highbury--unless she marries Weston's son. He is the right age, and he is a good-looking man, by all accounts.'

'She can do better than Frank Churchill! A man who does not know his duty, who writes flowery letters that deliver nothing but promise everything, a weakling who cannot do right when it is under his nose. Such a man will not do for Emma.'

'She might not feel as you do. Women are strange creatures. They like a handsome face, and she must have someone, after all. Besides, on reflection, I think you are right. You
are
too old for Emma.'

'I am not yet in my dotage!' I returned.

'Have it your own way!' he said. 'You are too old for her, and not too old!'

'Perhaps, before you find a mate for me, you should find one for yourself,' I said.

'I might have done.'

I was immediately curious, and encouraged him to tell me about Miss Turner, a young lady he met at a soiree six weeks ago. He confided in me that he meant to marry her, if she would have him.

I retired to Brunswick Square at last. After spending an hour with John and Isabella, I retired to bed.

As I went upstairs, I thought again of what Routledge had said. Marry Emma? Ridiculous!

Thursday 18 March

I thought of Routledge's words again this morning. Marry Emma? Impossible! I am not in love with her, and my dislike of Frank Churchill has nothing to do with jealousy. It is just that I do not think it would be good for her to marry him. Now he is no longer in Highbury, I am sure Emma will think no more about him.

Monday 22 March

Work on the path is at last finished, and I examined it to make sure the work was well done, then went over the costs with William Larkins. We managed to spend more than we had anticipated, but it was well worth doing, and I am looking forward to getting John's approval of it when he visits us.

Tuesday 23 March

Elton has named his wedding-day at last, and will soon be back among us. I heard it first at the whist club, where it produced a variety of reactions.

'Happy man,' said Longridge, blowing his nose. 'It is twenty-five years to the day that my dear wife and I were married. It was a beautiful wedding. Everyone said she was the prettiest bride they had ever seen. She was a wonderful woman, always cheerful, and always with some news to bring me. She took a great interest in life, Mr Knightley, and was a source of much solace to me.' He shook his head sadly. 'The house is too quiet without her.'

Cole was interested in the event in a more practical manner. He told me that Mrs Cole had offered to find Elton a parlour maid, as Elton would no doubt require more servants, now that he was losing his bachelor status.

Weston said he hoped that Elton would be as happy as he is, but begged leave to doubt it, and then said that he would like to see his son find a good woman and marry, too.

After everyone had ventured his or her opinion on the subject, we settled down to whist. Weston had all the luck tonight, and declared himself blessed, whereupon Longridge offered that his wife had been a keen cribbage player, and had beaten him on many occasions. Cole hoped that Elton would still visit the whist club once he was married, and we parted in perfect amity.

Wednesday 24 March

I called on Miss Bates as I was passing this morning. I found Miss Fairfax trimming a bonnet for her aunt.

'So good, I am sure it is better than anything Ford's has to offer, or indeed anything from London, Jane has always been so clever--yes, I thank you, well, though growing a little deaf, but Perry says she is remarkable for her age--I was going to trim it myself, some ribbon from Ford's, but Jane had some in her workbasket, just the right shade....'

I was glad to find her in good spirits, and Mrs Bates in health. Miss Fairfax still looked pale and ill. I hope that the better weather might bring an improvement. We had sunshine today, and if it continues, perhaps Miss Fairfax will regain her spirits.

Sunday 28 March

We had our first glimpse of Mrs Elton at church today, and I'll wager that not one woman in the congregation paid attention to the sermon, they all spent their time looking at the newcomer instead.

Very little of Mrs Elton could be seen, save the back of her bonnet. It did not look as well as Miss Bates's bonnet to me, and Emma was amused when I said so.

'It has come from London, depend upon it,' she said.

'It seems as though it could just as well have come from Bath to me,' I said.

'As you are so much older and wiser than I am, I must of course defer to your judgement.'

'Not so very much older,' I said.

'And not so very much wiser,' she said saucily.

I smiled, but would not give her the satisfaction of laughing.

'I may be allowed to be a little wiser, I suppose,' I said.

'You may. But not where bonnets are concerned.'

She teases me and bedevils me, she exasperates and infuriates me, but what would I do without Emma?

Tuesday 30 March

It is two weeks now since Frank Churchill left, and I have fallen back into my routine of regular visits to Hartfield.

'And what do you think of Mrs Elton?' I asked Emma. 'Or have you not yet had time to visit her?'

'Yes, I called on her yesterday,' she said.

I was surprised that she had paid Mrs Elton the compliment of an early visit, but I was also relieved. I am not perfectly sure of what happened between Elton and Emma, but I know her thoughts were not easy on that score, and yet she still performed her duty.

'And did you see her?'

'Yes, I did.'

'Then you had better luck than I did. When I called, she and her husband were out. Well?' I asked, as no comment was forthcoming.

'She was very elegantly dressed,' said Emma.

'In a London bonnet?' I asked her.

'In a London gown.'

'And have you nothing more to say?' I asked in surprise.

'One visit is hardly enough to judge of someone's character,' said Emma, 'but she seemed to be very pleasing.'

She would say no more, but perhaps she might be ready to commit herself when Mrs Elton has returned the call.

I did not meet the lady myself until later in the day, when I came across her at the Westons. I had called to speak to Weston about some hay, but as soon as the Eltons entered the room, everything of that kind was naturally postponed.

I had not been in company with Mrs Elton for more than five minutes when I realized that she was not destined to become a regular guest at the Abbey. Between telling me how fine her brother-in-law's house is; calling Elton by turns her
caro sposo
and Mr E; informing me of her many resources--which, however, she seems determined to ignore now that she is a married woman--and saying that Emma was already a favourite with her; she managed to disgust me in as many ways as she spent minutes talking. How Elton could bear it I do not know, but he simpered and smiled as though he had brought home a jewel.

I was polite, however, and welcomed her to Highbury society.

'I would love to stay all day, but my
caro sposo
insists I return Miss Woodhouse's visit,' said she. 'I am looking forward to seeing Hartfield. Mr E tells me it is very like Maple Grove. Did I mention Maple Grove? My brother-in-law, Mr Suckling's place?'

Mrs Weston assured her she had, and Weston bowed her out of the room.

'A very elegantly dressed woman,' said Mrs Weston.

'Hah!'

She looked at me in surprise.

'That is exactly what Emma said!' I told her.

Mrs Weston had the goodness to smile, and I knew our views of Mrs Elton coincided.

Wednesday 31 March

I was eager to find out about Mrs Elton's visit to Hartfield, and I had an opportunity this evening when I dined with Emma and her father. Whilst Mr Woodhouse fretted that he had not paid Mrs Elton a visit--'A bride, you know'--Emma reassured him that his health would be his excuse.

I could get very little from her concerning Mrs Elton, and she said no more than yesterday, but that in itself told me everything I needed to know.

'You do not like Mrs Elton,' I remarked. 'So you have been subjected to her talk about her
caro sposo
and Mr E as well, have you?'

'I have, though I think it is very unfair of you to ridicule her for demonstrating her knowledge of Italian--and the alphabet,' she said to me saucily.

'I have no objection to her knowledge of either, but I have a lively dread of her displaying such knowledge in the most vulgar way possible. How Elton can stand it I do not know.'

'He is in love. Allowances must be made,' she said.

'Hah!'

She does not think that Elton is in love any more than I do.

'I am glad to see that your taste, which erred in singling out Harriet, and again in rejecting Miss Fairfax, and yet again in singling out that puppy Frank Churchill--yes, well--your taste, in this case, was not at fault,' I told her. 'Mrs Elton is a vainglorious woman with a small mind who thinks she is bringing refinement to a quiet corner of the country, when she is bringing only change.'

'At last, we think the same on something!' said Emma. 'No, pray do not spoil it,' she said, when I opened my mouth to speak again. 'Let me savour the moment.'

Impossible girl! But out of the goodness of my heart, I let her have her own way.

Friday 2 April

I was glad to find that Miss Fairfax had extended her visit, and would not be returning to London so soon as was expected.

'We are so glad, Mr Knightley,' said Miss Bates. 'We are to have her for a full three months. She still does not look well. No, Jane, my love, you do not, though you protest you are very well indeed. When you were altering my gloves for me--such wonderful gloves, Mr Knightley, quite the warmest I have ever worn, and bought from Ford's, but just a little big around the wrist, and Jane kindly offered to take them in for me, as she was mending Mother's petticoat anyway, and who should walk in but Mr Longridge. A very kind gentleman, Mother is quite besotted with him--yes, you are, Mother, you know you are, for he comes and sits here for an hour or two together, and we are always glad of company, Mr Knightley. He has asked me to give him my opinion on another house, Whitestones, you will know it Mr Knightley, the Dodds have been renting it out but their tenants have left and they have decided to sell it. It seems a fine house to me but it is perhaps a little large for a single gentlemen. And then there is another house I have promised to see next week, Southdean, a pretty house with a stream, you know. I have always liked that house. It is not so grand as Whitestones, but I often used to think, when I was a girl, if I could choose a house to live in, that would be it. I painted it once, though not as well as Jane, she sketched it when she was eleven years old, do you remember, Jane? I believe I still have the picture somewhere, though I cannot remember where. I remember Mother saying to me....'

She paused for breath, and evidently did not remember what she had been saying, which gave me an opportunity to ask Miss Fairfax: 'Will you be joining the Campbells again when your stay in Highbury is finished?'

'Yes for a little while. But I would rather not think of that,' she remarked.

I said no more, as I did not wish to distress her. I wish I could offer her a home at the Abbey, but it is impossible.

'Oh, Jane, I know what I forgot to say. I meant to mention it but Mr Knightley's visit put it out of my mind--so kind of you, Mr Knightley! So obliging!--I sent a reply to Mrs Elton for you, you were out when her message arrived. She asks you to tea. Such an elegant woman! Such refinement! I am sure I never saw a better woman in my life, and it is always good to have a bride in the neighbourhood, is it not, Mr Knightley? Jane must want to be with younger people, and not always shut up with her grandmother and her aunt, though I am sure her grandmother is the best woman in the world--'

'And so is her aunt,' said Miss Fairfax with an affectionate smile.

'Oh, Jane, my love, I am sure I do not know--well--have you finished your sewing?'

And so she went on, spreading goodwill with every word but saying very little. Despite Miss Fairfax's affectionate smile, I could tell that her aunt's constant chatter wearied her.

I did not envy her. A choice of spending an hour with Mrs Elton, or an hour with her relations, was not a happy one.

I only wish Emma would take more notice of her. An afternoon at Hartfield would be far more enjoyable for Miss Fairfax than an afternoon at the vicarage or at home.

Saturday 3 April

There has been a heartening piece of news, one to gladden everybody in Highbury, and one to make me forget my own problems for a while. It is as I suspected. Mrs Weston is expecting a child! The Westons have known for some time, but have told no one. Now, however, they have broken their silence, knowing it could not be disguised for much longer.

Emma was smiling as I met her just outside Randalls. I was coming out of the gate as she, accompanied by Harriet, was going in.

'This is good news!' I said.

'Very good news,' she agreed.

'You will have to make some more caps.'

'I have started one already, and so has Harriet!'

'Very well done,' I said.

Harriet blushed and murmured something I did not catch.

We parted, I to go on business, and Emma to go in to see her friend.

Monday 5 April

Today was like spring, warm and sunny. I rode round the estate with William Larkins and we made sure that everything was in order. The farms were flourishing, and it did my heart good to see them. There is nothing like being in England in the spring.

Weston felt the same. He was very expansive this evening, and was more than usually talkative when I joined him for dinner.

Emma was there, and looking well. We spoke of many things, including Miss Fairfax.

'I wonder that Jane Fairfax spends so much time with Mrs Elton,' said Emma.

'We cannot suppose that she has any great enjoyment at the vicarage, my dear Emma,' said Mrs Weston, 'but it is better than being always at home.'

'Another thing must be taken into consideration, too,' I said. 'Mrs Elton does not talk
to
Miss Fairfax as she speaks
of
her. And besides the operation of this, as a general principle, you may be sure that Miss Fairfax awes Mrs Elton by her superiority both of mind and manner. Such a woman as Jane Fairfax probably never fell in Mrs Elton's way before--and no degree of vanity can prevent her acknowledging her own comparative littleness in action, if not in consciousness.'

I tried to do full justice to Miss Fairfax's virtues, because I knew I could never marry her.

'I know how highly you think of Jane Fairfax,' said Emma anxiously. 'And yet...' She stopped, as if she did not know how to continue, then went on: 'And yet, perhaps, you may hardly be aware yourself how highly it is. The extent of your admiration may take you by surprise some day or other.'

Although I had had a similar idea myself, I did not want her to know it, so I bent and fastened the button of my gaiter to prevent her seeing my confusion.

'Oh! are you there?' I asked. 'But you are miserably behindhand. Mr Cole gave me a hint of it six weeks ago. That will never be, however, I can assure you. Miss Fairfax, I dare say, would not have me if I were to ask her; and I am very sure I shall never ask her.'

'You are not vain, Mr Knightley. I will say that for you,' Emma replied.

To my surprise, she was not angry that I would not fall in with her plans. She was relieved.

'So you have been settling that I should marry Jane Fairfax,' I said curiously, wondering exactly what had been going through her mind.

'No indeed I have not. You have scolded me too much for matchmaking for me to presume to take such a liberty with you. Oh no, upon my word I have not the smallest wish for your marrying Jane Fairfax or Jane anybody. You would not come in and sit with us in this comfortable way, if you were married.'

Ah. So that was it. She liked my company, and would miss it if it were gone. I thought of Routledge and his words to me in London. Marry Emma! I had said it was a ludicrous idea, but was it? I had tried to take an interest in Miss Larch, and I had failed. I had tried to take an interest in Mrs Lovage, and I had failed. And I had tried to take an interest in Jane Fairfax, and I had failed. But I had never failed to take an interest in Emma, and I did so without even trying.

Why had I not seen it before? I never thought of anyone but Emma. But then my spirits sank as I realized that Emma could think of no one but Frank Churchill.

I could fiddle with my gaiter no longer.

'Jane Fairfax is a very charming young woman--but not even Jane Fairfax is perfect,' I said. 'She has a fault. She has not the open temper which a man would wish for in a wife.'

The open temper that Emma has.

'You soon silenced Mr Cole, I suppose?' she said.

'Yes, very soon. He gave me a quiet hint; I told him he was mistaken; he asked my pardon and said no more. Cole does not want to be wiser or wittier than his neighbours,' I said, with a wry smile. 'Jane Fairfax has feeling,' I said, to give her her due, for I did not want Emma and Mrs Weston to think I was slighting her. 'I do not accuse her of want of feeling. Her sensibilities, I suspect, are strong, and her temper excellent in its power of forbearance, patience, self-control.' An image of Jane rose before me, and I could not help my real feelings from coming through. 'But it wants openness. She is reserved, more reserved, I think, than she used to be: And I love an open temper. No; 'til Cole alluded to my supposed attachment, it had never entered my head,' I added, for I did not want to harm Jane's reputation by letting anyone know I had thought of marrying her, but had rejected the idea. 'I saw Jane Fairfax and conversed with her, with admiration and pleasure always; but with no thought beyond.'

Emma and Mrs Weston exchanged glances, and I felt I had spent enough time talking about Jane Fairfax. Indeed, I had spent enough time talking altogether, and I soon excused myself, returning to the Abbey, where William Larkins was waiting for me, with the accounts.

Wednesday 7 April

John is to be with us shortly, with his two sons, and it will not be a moment too soon. My only regret is that John cannot stay. He will be here for a day, but then he must go back to London. We must be grateful that he is leaving the boys with us. It will provide us with some welcome company; company, moreover, that is more to my taste than the present Highbury company. I am growing tired of Weston's talk about his son. Never a day seems to go by without him having a letter from his son, or expecting a letter, or wishing for a letter, and with it goes a wish that his son might pay us another visit. He seems to be obsessed with the young man, and Mrs Weston is just as bad!

And if I am not hearing about Frank Churchill, I am seeing the Eltons!

I seem to meet them everywhere I go. The whole of Highbury is giving parties for them. Mrs Elton can do nothing but talk of her sister and her sister's barouche-landau, and if I hear another comment about Mr Suckling and Maple Grove, I am liable to say something I shall regret.

Thursday 8 April

It was a relief to throw myself into Abbey business today and forget about my neighbours.

Friday 9 April

It is a good thing I am in a better temper today! Emma is arranging a dinner party for the Eltons, and of course I must go, and be polite to Mrs Elton. I admire the way Emma is bearing it all. I am sure she does not wish to see them, but she is behaving as though nothing unfortunate happened between her and Mr Elton. I am sure in my own mind that he proposed, or came as close to it as makes no difference. What else would have made him leave Highbury so suddenly after Christmas, if he had not made a declaration and been rejected? So, on the 13th, I must brace myself to hear all about Mr Suckling and Maple Grove.

Saturday 10 April

An unlucky chance has made my brother choose the day of the party for his visit to Hartfield. He is not fond of company at the best of times, and to have to endure it without his wife present, and with a bridal couple who must be made much of, will be a sore trial to him. I can only hope he will curb his temper, and not upset Mr Woodhouse.

Emma is worried because it will put her numbers out, and her father's nerves are on edge because it makes the party bigger than he cares for.

The one good thing is that Harriet has cried off. She does not want to see Elton, I suppose, after Emma put it into her head to think of him.

How the matter of Harriet will resolve itself I do not know.

Monday 12 April

Emma's problems have been solved in an unexpected way. Weston has been summoned to town, and cannot attend the dinner, though he means to call in afterwards, when he returns, so Emma's numbers are now perfect.

All is now settled. John arrives tomorrow. He will be calling here first, and then going on to Hartfield, where he will leave the boys.

Tuesday 13 April

My two eldest nephews are growing apace. They are bright, lively boys, and they chased each other round the garden as John and I took a walk. He told me that Isabella and the other three children were well, and that his business is prospering. I took him to see the new path, and he approved of what I had done.

He did not stay long, but soon went on to Hartfield, with the boys being quieter for their run around. They were much more subdued when they arrived at Hartfield than they had been for most of the journey, he told me when I saw him again at Hartfield just before dinner, and they had not put too great a strain on their grandfather's nerves.

Mr Woodhouse was as courteous as ever, making the rounds of his guests and paying particular attention to Mrs Elton, which pleased her greatly. He was very conscious of what was due to her as a bride.

John was talking to Miss Fairfax. He feels, as I do, that her lot is a hard one. To be taken away from everyone she knows and loves, and thrust into another family--one which might be disgreeable, with spoilt children and doting parents--is not an enviable fate.

I have asked amongst my acquaintance and tried to find her a position but I have not had any success. If I could know she was going into a well-regulated household, where her talents would be appreciated, I would be much happier.

My brother was very courteous to her, and as he had passed her on a walk this morning, he asked if she had arrived home before the rain. Fortunately she had, but Mrs Elton, officious as ever, declared that Miss Fairfax must not walk to the post office any more; Mrs Elton would have her servant collect Jane's post.

I admired Miss Fairfax for her tact in dealing with Mrs Elton. She did not give any direct reply, but instead skilfully turned the conversation towards the post office's efficiency, and from thence to handwriting, which was a subject much more to her taste, for it meant Mrs Elton could no longer irritate her.

'Isabella and Emma both write beautifully,' said Mr Woodhouse; 'and always did. And so does poor Mrs Weston,' he added, with half a sigh and half a smile at her.

I wonder when he will stop calling her 'poor Mrs Weston'!

'Mr Frank Churchill writes one of the best gentlemen's hands I ever saw,' said Emma, distracting her father's thoughts from the sad fate of the woman who sat there, happy and contented, with her husband and her friends about her.