Emma, by Jane Austen Chapter III

Emma, by Jane Austen

Chapter III

Mr. Woodhouse was once fond of society in his very own way. He preferred very an awful lot to have his buddies come and see him; and from more than a few united causes, from his lengthy house at Hartfield, and his properly nature, from his fortune, his house, and his daughter, he may want to command the visits of his very own little circle, in a exceptional measure, as he liked. He had now not plenty intercourse with any households past that circle; his horror of late hours, and giant dinner-parties, made him unfit for any acquaintance however such as would go to him on his personal terms. Fortunately for him, Highbury, along with Randalls in the equal parish, and Donwell Abbey in the parish adjoining, the seat of Mr. Knightley, comprehended many such. Not unfrequently, thru Emma’s persuasion, he had some of the chosen and the fantastic to dine with him: however night events have been what he preferred; and, until he fancied himself at any time unequal to company, there was once scarcely an night in the week in which Emma should now not make up a card-table for him.

Real, long-standing regard delivered the Westons and Mr. Knightley; and by using Mr. Elton, a younger man dwelling on my own besides liking it, the privilege of changing any vacant nighttime of his personal clean solitude for the elegancies and society of Mr. Woodhouse’s drawing-room, and the smiles of his beautiful daughter, used to be in no chance of being thrown away.

After these got here a 2nd set; amongst the most come-at-able of whom have been Mrs. and Miss Bates, and Mrs. Goddard, three girls nearly constantly at the provider of an invitation from Hartfield, and who had been fetched and carried domestic so often, that Mr. Woodhouse notion it no difficulty for both James or the horses. Had it taken vicinity solely as soon as a year, it would have been a grievance.

Mrs. Bates, the widow of a former vicar of Highbury, used to be a very historical lady, nearly previous each and every element however tea and quadrille. She lived with her single daughter in a very small way, and used to be regarded with all the regard and admire which a innocent ancient lady, underneath such untoward circumstances, can excite. Her daughter loved a most individual diploma of reputation for a female neither young, handsome, rich, nor married. Miss Bates stood in the very worst limitation in the world for having an awful lot of the public favour; and she had no mental superiority to make atonement to herself, or frighten these who may hate her into outward respect. She had by no means boasted both splendor or cleverness. Her childhood had surpassed except distinction, and her center of existence was once committed to the care of a failing mother, and the endeavour to make a small profits go as a long way as possible. And but she used to be a pleased woman, and a female whom no one named except good-will. It used to be her personal everyday good-will and contented mood which labored such wonders. She cherished each and every body, was once involved in each and every body’s happiness, quicksighted to each body’s merits; notion herself a most lucky creature, and surrounded with benefits in such an brilliant mother, and so many exact neighbours and friends, and a domestic that desired for nothing. The simplicity and cheerfulness of her nature, her contented and grateful spirit, have been a advice to each body, and a mine of felicity to herself. She used to be a superb talker upon little matters, which precisely applicable Mr. Woodhouse, full of trivial communications and innocent gossip.

Mrs. Goddard used to be the mistress of a School — now not of a seminary, or an establishment, or any component which professed, in lengthy sentences of subtle nonsense, to mix liberal acquirements with stylish morality, upon new standards and new structures — and the place younger female for widespread pay may be screwed out of fitness and into conceitedness — however a real, honest, old school Boarding-school, the place a realistic volume of accomplishments had been bought at a practical price, and the place ladies would possibly be despatched to be out of the way, and scramble themselves into a little education, except any risk of coming again prodigies. Mrs. Goddard’s faculty used to be in excessive reputation — and very deservedly; for Highbury used to be reckoned a specifically wholesome spot: she had an enough residence and garden, gave the adolescents masses of healthful food, let them run about a brilliant deal in the summer, and in wintry weather dressed their chilblains with her very own hands. It was once no marvel that a instruct of twenty younger couple now walked after her to church. She was once a plain, motherly form of woman, who had labored challenging in her youth, and now concept herself entitled to the occasional excursion of a tea-visit; and having previously owed tons to Mr. Woodhouse’s kindness, felt his unique declare on her to go away her neat parlour, hung spherical with fancy-work, each time she could, and win or lose a few sixpences with the aid of his fireside. 

These had been the ladies whom Emma found herself very regularly able to collect; and happy used to be she, for her father’s sake, in the power; though, as far as she was herself concerned, it used to be no remedy for the absence of Mrs. Weston. She was delighted to see her father seem comfortable, and very much pleased with herself for contriving matters so well; but the quiet prosings of three such women made her sense that every evening so spent was once indeed one of the long evenings she had fearfully anticipated.

As she sat one morning, searching forward to exactly such a shut of the present day, a note was once brought from Mrs. Goddard, requesting, in most respectful terms, to be allowed to bring Miss Smith with her; a most welcome request: for Miss Smith was once a girl of seventeen, whom Emma knew very well with the aid of sight, and had long felt an interest in, on account of her beauty. A very gracious invitation was once returned, and the evening no longer dreaded by the honest mistress of the mansion.

Harriet Smith was the natural daughter of somebody. Somebody had positioned her, several years back, at Mrs. Goddard’s school, and somebody had these days raised her from the condition of scholar to that of parlour-boarder. This was once all that was generally regarded of her history. She had no visible friends but what had been acquired at Highbury, and was now simply returned from a long go to in the country to some young women who had been at school there with her.

She was a very extraordinarily girl, and her beauty happened to be of a type which Emma particularly admired. She was short, plump, and fair, with a quality bloom, blue eyes, light hair, regular features, and a appear of great sweetness, and, before the stop of the evening, Emma was as much thrilled with her manners as her person, and quite determined to proceed the acquaintance.

She was not struck through any thing remarkably clever in Miss Smith’s conversation, however she found her altogether very engaging — no longer inconveniently shy, not unwilling to talk — and but so far from pushing, shewing so proper and turning into a deference, seeming so pleasantly grateful for being admitted to Hartfield, and so artlessly impressed by the appearance of each thing in so superior a fashion to what she had been used to, that she must have good sense, and deserve encouragement. Encouragement ought to be given. Those soft blue eyes, and all those herbal graces, should not be wasted on the inferior society of Highbury and its connexions. The acquaintance she had already fashioned were unworthy of her. The friends from whom she had simply parted, though very good kind of people, must be doing her harm. They were a household of the name of Martin, whom Emma well knew via character, as renting a large farm of Mr. Knightley, and residing in the parish of Donwell — very creditably, she believed — she knew Mr. Knightley thinking highly of them — but they have to be coarse and unpolished, and very unfit to be the intimates of a girl who wanted solely a little more knowledge and class to be quite perfect. She would notice her; she would enhance her; she would detach her from her bad acquaintance, and introduce her into good society; she would shape her opinions and her manners. It would be an interesting, and certainly a very kind undertaking; surprisingly becoming her own scenario in life, her leisure, and powers.

She was so busy in admiring those tender blue eyes, in talking and listening, and forming all these schemes in the in-betweens, that the evening flew away at a very uncommon rate; and the supper-table, which always closed such parties, and for which she had been used to sit and watch the due time, was once all set out and ready, and moved forwards to the fire, before she was aware. With an alacrity past the common impulse of a spirit which yet used to be never indifferent to the savings of doing every thing properly and attentively, with the real good-will of a mind delighted with its very own ideas, did she then do all the honours of the meal, and help and recommend the minced poultry and scalloped oysters, with an urgency which she knew would be acceptable to the early hours and civil scruples of their guests. 

Upon such activities poor Mr. Woodhouses feelings were in unhappy warfare. He loved to have the cloth laid, because it had been the trend of his youth, but his conviction of suppers being very unwholesome made him rather sorry to see any thing put on it; and whilst his hospitality would have welcomed his visitors to every thing, his care for their health made him grieve that they would eat.

Such some other small basin of thin gruel as his own was all that he could, with thorough self-approbation, recommend; although he might constrain himself, while the ladies had been comfortably clearing the nicer things, to say:

“Mrs. Bates, let me propose your venturing on one of these eggs. An egg boiled very soft is no longer unwholesome. Serle understands boiling an egg better than any body. I would not endorse an egg boiled by any body else; but you want not be afraid, they are very small, you see — one of our small eggs will not hurt you. Miss Bates, let Emma assist you to a little bit of tart — a very little bit. Ours are all apple-tarts. You need not be afraid of unwholesome preserves here. I do not recommend the custard. Mrs. Goddard, what say you to half a glass of wine? A small half-glass, put into a tumbler of water? I do not think it may want to disagree with you.”

Emma allowed her father to talk — but supplied her site visitors in a much more satisfactory style, and on the current evening had particular pleasure in sending them away happy. The happiness of Miss Smith was pretty equal to her intentions. Miss Woodhouse was so great a personage in Highbury, that the prospect of the introduction had given as much panic as pleasure; however the humble, grateful little girl went off with highly gratified feelings, delighted with the affability with which Miss Woodhouse had treated her all the evening, and genuinely shaken hands with her at last!