________________________________________________
_ "I hope I shall soon have the pleasure of introducing my son to you,"
said Mr. Weston.
Mrs. Elton, very willing to suppose a particular compliment intended
her by such a hope, smiled most graciously.
"You have heard of a certain Frank Churchill, I presume," he continued--
"and know him to be my son, though he does not bear my name."
"Oh! yes, and I shall be very happy in his acquaintance.
I am sure Mr. Elton will lose no time in calling on him; and we
shall both have great pleasure in seeing him at the Vicarage."
"You are very obliging.--Frank will be extremely happy, I am sure.--
He is to be in town next week, if not sooner. We have notice of it
in a letter to-day. I met the letters in my way this morning,
and seeing my son's hand, presumed to open it--though it was not directed
to me--it was to Mrs. Weston. She is his principal correspondent,
I assure you. I hardly ever get a letter."
"And so you absolutely opened what was directed to her! Oh! Mr. Weston--
(laughing affectedly) I must protest against that.--A most dangerous
precedent indeed!--I beg you will not let your neighbours follow
your example.--Upon my word, if this is what I am to expect,
we married women must begin to exert ourselves!--Oh! Mr. Weston,
I could not have believed it of you!"
"Aye, we men are sad fellows. You must take care of yourself,
Mrs. Elton.--This letter tells us--it is a short letter--written in
a hurry, merely to give us notice--it tells us that they are all
coming up to town directly, on Mrs. Churchill's account--she has
not been well the whole winter, and thinks Enscombe too cold for her--
so they are all to move southward without loss of time."
"Indeed!--from Yorkshire, I think. Enscombe is in Yorkshire?"
"Yes, they are about one hundred and ninety miles from London.
a considerable journey."
"Yes, upon my word, very considerable. Sixty-five miles farther
than from Maple Grove to London. But what is distance, Mr. Weston,
to people of large fortune?--You would be amazed to hear how my brother,
Mr. Suckling, sometimes flies about. You will hardly believe me--
but twice in one week he and Mr. Bragge went to London and back again
with four horses."
"The evil of the distance from Enscombe," said Mr. Weston, "is, that
Mrs. Churchill, as we understand, has not been able to leave the
sofa for a week together. In Frank's last letter she complained,
he said, of being too weak to get into her conservatory without having
both his arm and his uncle's! This, you know, speaks a great degree
of weakness--but now she is so impatient to be in town, that she
means to sleep only two nights on the road.--So Frank writes word.
Certainly, delicate ladies have very extraordinary constitutions,
Mrs. Elton. You must grant me that."
"No, indeed, I shall grant you nothing. I Always take the part
of my own sex. I do indeed. I give you notice--You will find me
a formidable antagonist on that point. I always stand up for women--
and I assure you, if you knew how Selina feels with respect
to sleeping at an inn, you would not wonder at Mrs. Churchill's
making incredible exertions to avoid it. Selina says it is quite
horror to her--and I believe I have caught a little of her nicety.
She always travels with her own sheets; an excellent precaution.
Does Mrs. Churchill do the same?"
"Depend upon it, Mrs. Churchill does every thing that any other
fine lady ever did. Mrs. Churchill will not be second to any lady
in the land for"--
Mrs. Elton eagerly interposed with,
"Oh! Mr. Weston, do not mistake me. Selina is no fine lady,
I assure you. Do not run away with such an idea."
"Is not she? Then she is no rule for Mrs. Churchill, who is
as thorough a fine lady as any body ever beheld."
Mrs. Elton began to think she had been wrong in disclaiming so warmly.
It was by no means her object to have it believed that her sister
was not a fine lady; perhaps there was want of spirit in the pretence
of it;--and she was considering in what way she had best retract,
when Mr. Weston went on.
"Mrs. Churchill is not much in my good graces, as you may suspect--
but this is quite between ourselves. She is very fond of Frank,
and therefore I would not speak ill of her. Besides, she is out of
health now; but that indeed, by her own account, she has always been.
I would not say so to every body, Mrs. Elton, but I have not much
faith in Mrs. Churchill's illness."
"If she is really ill, why not go to Bath, Mr. Weston?--To Bath,
or to Clifton?" "She has taken it into her head that Enscombe is too
cold for her. The fact is, I suppose, that she is tired of Enscombe.
She has now been a longer time stationary there, than she ever
was before, and she begins to want change. It is a retired place.
A fine place, but very retired."
"Aye--like Maple Grove, I dare say. Nothing can stand more retired from
the road than Maple Grove. Such an immense plantation all round it!
You seem shut out from every thing--in the most complete retirement.--
And Mrs. Churchill probably has not health or spirits like Selina
to enjoy that sort of seclusion. Or, perhaps she may not have
resources enough in herself to be qualified for a country life.
I always say a woman cannot have too many resources--and I feel
very thankful that I have so many myself as to be quite independent
of society."
"Frank was here in February for a fortnight."
"So I remember to have heard. He will find an addition to the
society of Highbury when he comes again; that is, if I may presume
to call myself an addition. But perhaps he may never have heard
of there being such a creature in the world."
This was too loud a call for a compliment to be passed by,
and Mr. Weston, with a very good grace, immediately exclaimed,
"My dear madam! Nobody but yourself could imagine such a
thing possible. Not heard of you!--I believe Mrs. Weston's
letters lately have been full of very little else than Mrs. Elton."
He had done his duty and could return to his son.
"When Frank left us," continued he, "it was quite uncertain when we
might see him again, which makes this day's news doubly welcome.
It has been completely unexpected. That is, I always had a strong
persuasion he would be here again soon, I was sure something
favourable would turn up--but nobody believed me. He and Mrs. Weston
were both dreadfully desponding. `How could he contrive to come?
And how could it be supposed that his uncle and aunt would spare
him again?' and so forth--I always felt that something would happen
in our favour; and so it has, you see. I have observed, Mrs. Elton,
in the course of my life, that if things are going untowardly one month,
they are sure to mend the next."
"Very true, Mr. Weston, perfectly true. It is just what I used
to say to a certain gentleman in company in the days of courtship,
when, because things did not go quite right, did not proceed with all
the rapidity which suited his feelings, he was apt to be in despair,
and exclaim that he was sure at this rate it would be May before
Hymen's saffron robe would be put on for us. Oh! the pains I have
been at to dispel those gloomy ideas and give him cheerfuller views!
The carriage--we had disappointments about the carriage;--one morning,
I remember, he came to me quite in despair."
She was stopped by a slight fit of coughing, and Mr. Weston instantly
seized the opportunity of going on.
"You were mentioning May. May is the very month which Mrs. Churchill
is ordered, or has ordered herself, to spend in some warmer place
than Enscombe--in short, to spend in London; so that we have the
agreeable prospect of frequent visits from Frank the whole spring--
precisely the season of the year which one should have chosen
for it: days almost at the longest; weather genial and pleasant,
always inviting one out, and never too hot for exercise. When he
was here before, we made the best of it; but there was a good deal
of wet, damp, cheerless weather; there always is in February, you know,
and we could not do half that we intended. Now will be the time.
This will be complete enjoyment; and I do not know, Mrs. Elton,
whether the uncertainty of our meetings, the sort of constant
expectation there will be of his coming in to-day or to-morrow,
and at any hour, may not be more friendly to happiness than having
him actually in the house. I think it is so. I think it is the
state of mind which gives most spirit and delight. I hope you
will be pleased with my son; but you must not expect a prodigy.
He is generally thought a fine young man, but do not expect a prodigy.
Mrs. Weston's partiality for him is very great, and, as you may suppose,
most gratifying to me. She thinks nobody equal to him."
"And I assure you, Mr. Weston, I have very little doubt that my
opinion will be decidedly in his favour. I have heard so much
in praise of Mr. Frank Churchill.--At the same time it is fair
to observe, that I am one of those who always judge for themselves,
and are by no means implicitly guided by others. I give you notice
that as I find your son, so I shall judge of him.--I am no flatterer."
Mr. Weston was musing.
"I hope," said he presently, "I have not been severe upon poor
Mrs. Churchill. If she is ill I should be sorry to do her injustice;
but there are some traits in her character which make it difficult
for me to speak of her with the forbearance I could wish.
You cannot be ignorant, Mrs. Elton, of my connexion with the family,
nor of the treatment I have met with; and, between ourselves,
the whole blame of it is to be laid to her. She was the instigator.
Frank's mother would never have been slighted as she was but for her.
Mr. Churchill has pride; but his pride is nothing to his wife's:
his is a quiet, indolent, gentlemanlike sort of pride that would
harm nobody, and only make himself a little helpless and tiresome;
but her pride is arrogance and insolence! And what inclines one less
to bear, she has no fair pretence of family or blood. She was nobody
when he married her, barely the daughter of a gentleman; but ever
since her being turned into a Churchill she has out-Churchill'd them
all in high and mighty claims: but in herself, I assure you, she is
an upstart."
"Only think! well, that must be infinitely provoking! I have quite
a horror of upstarts. Maple Grove has given me a thorough disgust
to people of that sort; for there is a family in that neighbourhood
who are such an annoyance to my brother and sister from the airs
they give themselves! Your description of Mrs. Churchill made me
think of them directly. People of the name of Tupman, very lately
settled there, and encumbered with many low connexions, but giving
themselves immense airs, and expecting to be on a footing with the old
established families. A year and a half is the very utmost that they can
have lived at West Hall; and how they got their fortune nobody knows.
They came from Birmingham, which is not a place to promise much,
you know, Mr. Weston. One has not great hopes from Birmingham.
I always say there is something direful in the sound: but nothing
more is positively known of the Tupmans, though a good many things
I assure you are suspected; and yet by their manners they evidently
think themselves equal even to my brother, Mr. Suckling, who happens
to be one of their nearest neighbours. It is infinitely too bad.
Mr. Suckling, who has been eleven years a resident at Maple Grove,
and whose father had it before him--I believe, at least--I am
almost sure that old Mr. Suckling had completed the purchase before
his death."
They were interrupted. Tea was carrying round, and Mr. Weston,
having said all that he wanted, soon took the opportunity of
walking away.
After tea, Mr. and Mrs. Weston, and Mr. Elton sat down with Mr. Woodhouse
to cards. The remaining five were left to their own powers,
and Emma doubted their getting on very well; for Mr. Knightley seemed
little disposed for conversation; Mrs. Elton was wanting notice,
which nobody had inclination to pay, and she was herself
in a worry of spirits which would have made her prefer being silent.
Mr. John Knightley proved more talkative than his brother.
He was to leave them early the next day; and he soon began with--
"Well, Emma, I do not believe I have any thing more to say about
the boys; but you have your sister's letter, and every thing is
down at full length there we may be sure. My charge would be much
more concise than her's, and probably not much in the same spirit;
all that I have to recommend being comprised in, do not spoil them,
and do not physic them."
"I rather hope to satisfy you both," said Emma, "for I shall do all
in my power to make them happy, which will be enough for Isabella;
and happiness must preclude false indulgence and physic."
"And if you find them troublesome, you must send them home again."
"That is very likely. You think so, do not you?"
"I hope I am aware that they may be too noisy for your father--
or even may be some encumbrance to you, if your visiting engagements
continue to increase as much as they have done lately."
"Increase!"
"Certainly; you must be sensible that the last half-year has made
a great difference in your way of life."
"Difference! No indeed I am not."
"There can be no doubt of your being much more engaged with company
than you used to be. Witness this very time. Here am I come
down for only one day, and you are engaged with a dinner-party!--
When did it happen before, or any thing like it? Your neighbourhood
is increasing, and you mix more with it. A little while ago,
every letter to Isabella brought an account of fresh gaieties;
dinners at Mr. Cole's, or balls at the Crown. The difference
which Randalls, Randalls alone makes in your goings-on, is very great."
"Yes," said his brother quickly, "it is Randalls that does it all."
"Very well--and as Randalls, I suppose, is not likely to have less
influence than heretofore, it strikes me as a possible thing, Emma,
that Henry and John may be sometimes in the way. And if they are,
I only beg you to send them home."
"No," cried Mr. Knightley, "that need not be the consequence.
Let them be sent to Donwell. I shall certainly be at leisure."
"Upon my word," exclaimed Emma, "you amuse me! I should like to know
how many of all my numerous engagements take place without your being
of the party; and why I am to be supposed in danger of wanting leisure
to attend to the little boys. These amazing engagements of mine--
what have they been? Dining once with the Coles--and having a ball
talked of, which never took place. I can understand you--(nodding at
Mr. John Knightley)--your good fortune in meeting with so many of
your friends at once here, delights you too much to pass unnoticed.
But you, (turning to Mr. Knightley,) who know how very, very seldom
I am ever two hours from Hartfield, why you should foresee such a
series of dissipation for me, I cannot imagine. And as to my dear
little boys, I must say, that if Aunt Emma has not time for them,
I do not think they would fare much better with Uncle Knightley,
who is absent from home about five hours where she is absent one--
and who, when he is at home, is either reading to himself or settling
his accounts."
Mr. Knightley seemed to be trying not to smile; and succeeded
without difficulty, upon Mrs. Elton's beginning to talk to him. _
Read next: VOLUME III: CHAPTER I
Read previous: VOLUME II: CHAPTER XVII
Table of content of Emma
GO TO TOP OF SCREEN
Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book
