Emma

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"I do not know what your opinion may be, Mrs. Weston," said Mr.

Knightley, "of this great intimacy between Emma and Harriet Smith,

but I think it a bad thing."

"A bad thing! Do you really think it a bad thing?—why so?"

"I think they will neither of them do the other any good."

"You surprize me! Emma must do Harriet good: and by supplying

her with a new object of interest, Harriet may be said to do Emma

good. I have been seeing their intimacy with the greatest pleasure.

How very differently we feel!—Not think they will do each other any

good! This will certainly be the beginning of one of our quarrels

about Emma, Mr. Knightley."

"Perhaps you think I am come on purpose to quarrel with you,

knowing Weston to be out, and that you must still fight your own

battle."

"Mr. Weston would undoubtedly support me, if he were here, for

he thinks exactly as I do on the subject. We were speaking of it

only yesterday, and agreeing how fortunate it was for Emma, that

there should be such a girl in Highbury for her to associate with.

Mr. Knightley, I shall not allow you to be a fair judge in this

case. You are so much used to live alone, that you do not know the

value of a companion; and, perhaps no man can be a good judge of

the comfort a woman feels in the society of one of her own s*x,

after being used to it all her life. I can imagine your objection

to Harriet Smith. She is not the superior young woman which Emma's

friend ought to be. But on the other hand, as Emma wants to see her

better informed, it will be an inducement to her to read more

herself. They will read together. She means it, I know."

"Emma has been meaning to read more ever since she was twelve

years old. I have seen a great many lists of her drawing-up at

various times of books that she meant to read regularly through—and

very good lists they were—very well chosen, and very neatly

arranged—sometimes alphabetically, and sometimes by some other

rule. The list she drew up when only fourteen—I remember thinking

it did her judgment so much credit, that I preserved it some time;

and I dare say she may have made out a very good list now. But I

have done with expecting any course of steady reading from Emma.

She will never submit to any thing requiring industry and patience,

and a subjection of the fancy to the understanding. Where Miss

Taylor failed to stimulate, I may safely affirm that Harriet Smith

will do nothing.—You never could persuade her to read half so much

as you wished.—You know you could not."

"I dare say," replied Mrs. Weston, smiling, "that I thought so

then;—but since we have parted, I can never remember Emma's

omitting to do any thing I wished."

"There is hardly any desiring to refresh such a memory as

that,"—said Mr. Knightley, feelingly; and for a moment or two he

had done. "But I," he soon added, "who have had no such charm

thrown over my senses, must still see, hear, and remember. Emma is

spoiled by being the cleverest of her family. At ten years old, she

had the misfortune of being able to answer questions which puzzled

her sister at seventeen. She was always quick and assured: Isabella

slow and diffident. And ever since she was twelve, Emma has been

mistress of the house and of you all. In her mother she lost the

only person able to cope with her. She inherits her mother's

talents, and must have been under subjection to her."

"I should have been sorry, Mr. Knightley, to be dependent on

your recommendation, had I quitted Mr. Woodhouse's family and

wanted another situation; I do not think you would have spoken a

good word for me to any body. I am sure you always thought me unfit

for the office I held."

"Yes," said he, smiling. "You are better placed here; very fit

for a wife, but not at all for a governess. But you were preparing

yourself to be an excellent wife all the time you were at

Hartfield. You might not give Emma such a complete education as

your powers would seem to promise; but you were receiving a very

good education from her, on the very material matrimonial point of

submitting your own will, and doing as you were bid; and if Weston

had asked me to recommend him a wife, I should certainly have named

Miss Taylor."

"Thank you. There will be very little merit in making a good

wife to such a man as Mr. Weston."

"Why, to own the truth, I am afraid you are rather thrown away,

and that with every disposition to bear, there will be nothing to

be borne. We will not despair, however. Weston may grow cross from

the wantonness of comfort, or his son may plague him."

"I hope not that.—It is not likely. No, Mr. Knightley, do not

foretell vexation from that quarter."

"Not I, indeed. I only name possibilities. I do not pretend to

Emma's genius for foretelling and guessing. I hope, with all my

heart, the young man may be a Weston in merit, and a Churchill in

fortune.—But Harriet Smith—I have not half done about Harriet

Smith. I think her the very worst sort of companion that Emma could

possibly have. She knows nothing herself, and looks upon Emma as

knowing every thing. She is a flatterer in all her ways; and so

much the worse, because undesigned. Her ignorance is hourly

flattery. How can Emma imagine she has any thing to learn herself,

while Harriet is presenting such a delightful inferiority? And as

for Harriet, I will venture to say that she cannot gain by the

acquaintance. Hartfield will only put her out of conceit with all

the other places she belongs to. She will grow just refined enough

to be uncomfortable with those among whom birth and circumstances

have placed her home. I am much mistaken if Emma's doctrines give

any strength of mind, or tend at all to make a girl adapt herself

rationally to the varieties of her situation in life.—They only

give a little polish."

"I either depend more upon Emma's good sense than you do, or am

more anxious for her present comfort; for I cannot lament the

acquaintance. How well she looked last night!"

"Oh! you would rather talk of her person than her mind, would

you? Very well; I shall not attempt to deny Emma's being

pretty."

"Pretty! say beautiful rather. Can you imagine any thing nearer

perfect beauty than Emma altogether—face and figure?"

"I do not know what I could imagine, but I confess that I have

seldom seen a face or figure more pleasing to me than hers. But I

am a partial old friend."

"Such an eye!—the true hazle eye—and so brilliant! regular

features, open countenance, with a complexion! oh! what a bloom of

full health, and such a pretty height and size; such a firm and

upright figure! There is health, not merely in her bloom, but in

her air, her head, her glance. One hears sometimes of a child being

`the picture of health;' now, Emma always gives me the idea of

being the complete picture of grown-up health. She is loveliness

itself. Mr. Knightley, is not she?"

"I have not a fault to find with her person," he replied. "I

think her all you describe. I love to look at her; and I will add

this praise, that I do not think her personally vain. Considering

how very handsome she is, she appears to be little occupied with

it; her vanity lies another way. Mrs. Weston, I am not to be talked

out of my dislike of Harriet Smith, or my dread of its doing them

both harm."

"And I, Mr. Knightley, am equally stout in my confidence of its

not doing them any harm. With all dear Emma's little faults, she is

an excellent creature. Where shall we see a better daughter, or a

kinder sister, or a truer friend? No, no; she has qualities which

may be trusted; she will never lead any one really wrong; she will

make no lasting blunder; where Emma errs once, she is in the right

a hundred times."

"Very well; I will not plague you any more. Emma shall be an

angel, and I will keep my spleen to myself till Christmas brings

John and Isabella. John loves Emma with a reasonable and therefore

not a blind affection, and Isabella always thinks as he does;

except when he is not quite frightened enough about the children. I

am sure of having their opinions with me."

"I know that you all love her really too well to be unjust or

unkind; but excuse me, Mr. Knightley, if I take the liberty (I

consider myself, you know, as having somewhat of the privilege of

speech that Emma's mother might have had) the liberty of hinting

that I do not think any possible good can arise from Harriet

Smith's intimacy being made a matter of much discussion among you.

Pray excuse me; but supposing any little inconvenience may be

apprehended from the intimacy, it cannot be expected that Emma,

accountable to nobody but her father, who perfectly approves the

acquaintance, should put an end to it, so long as it is a source of

pleasure to herself. It has been so many years my province to give

advice, that you cannot be surprized, Mr. Knightley, at this little

remains of office."

"Not at all," cried he; "I am much obliged to you for it. It is

very good advice, and it shall have a better fate than your advice

has often found; for it shall be attended to."

"Mrs. John Knightley is easily alarmed, and might be made

unhappy about her sister."

"Be satisfied," said he, "I will not raise any outcry. I will

keep my ill-humour to myself. I have a very sincere interest in

Emma. Isabella does not seem more my sister; has never excited a

greater interest; perhaps hardly so great. There is an anxiety, a

curiosity in what one feels for Emma. I wonder what will become of

her!"

"So do I," said Mrs. Weston gently, "very much."

"She always declares she will never marry, which, of course,

means just nothing at all. But I have no idea that she has yet ever

seen a man she cared for. It would not be a bad thing for her to be

very much in love with a proper object. I should like to see Emma

in love, and in some doubt of a return; it would do her good. But

there is nobody hereabouts to attach her; and she goes so seldom

from home."

"There does, indeed, seem as little to tempt her to break her

resolution at present," said Mrs. Weston, "as can well be; and

while she is so happy at Hartfield, I cannot wish her to be forming

any attachment which would be creating such difficulties on poor

Mr. Woodhouse's account. I do not recommend matrimony at present to

Emma, though I mean no slight to the state, I assure you."

Part of her meaning was to conceal some favourite thoughts of

her own and Mr. Weston's on the subject, as much as possible. There

were wishes at Randalls respecting Emma's destiny, but it was not

desirable to have them suspected; and the quiet transition which

Mr. Knightley soon afterwards made to "What does Weston think of

the weather; shall we have rain?" convinced her that he had nothing

more to say or surmise about Hartfield.