Emma, by Jane Austen Chapter XI

 Emma, by Jane Austen

Chapter XI

Mr. Elton must now be left to himself. it had been not in Emma’s power to superintend his happiness or quicken his measures. the approaching of her sister’s family was so very near at hand, that first in anticipation, then actually , it became henceforth her prime object of interest; and through the ten days of their occupy Hartfield it had been to not be expected — she didn't herself expect — that any thing beyond occasional, fortuitous assistance might be afforded by her to the lovers. they could advance rapidly if they might , however; they need to advance somehow or other whether or not they would or no. She hardly wished to possess more leisure for them. There are people, who the more you are doing for them, the less they're going to do for themselves.

Mr. and Mrs. John Knightley, from having been longer than usual absent from Surry, were exciting in fact rather quite the standard interest. Till this year, every long vacation since their marriage had been divided between Hartfield and Donwell Abbey; but all the vacations of this autumn had been given to sea-bathing for the youngsters , and it had been therefore many months since that they had been seen during a regular way by their Surry connexions, or seen in the least by Mr. Woodhouse, who couldn't be induced to urge thus far as London, even for poor Isabella’s sake; and who consequently was now most nervously and apprehensively happy in forestalling this too short visit.

He thought much of the evils of the journey for her, and not a touch of the fatigues of his own horses and coachman who were to bring a number of the party the second half of the way; but his alarms were needless; the sixteen miles being happily accomplished, and Mr. and Mrs. John Knightley, their five children, and a competent number of nursery-maids, all reaching Hartfield in safety. The bustle and joy of such an arrival, the various to be talked to, welcomed, encouraged, and variously dispersed and disposed of, produced a noise and confusion which his nerves couldn't have borne under the other cause, nor have endured for much longer even for this; but the ways of Hartfield and therefore the feelings of her father were so respected by Mrs. John Knightley, that in spite of maternal solicitude for the immediate enjoyment of her little ones, and for his or her having instantly all the freedom and attendance, all the eating and drinking, and sleeping and playing, which they might possibly wish for, without the littlest delay, the youngsters were never allowed to be long a disturbance to him, either in themselves or in any restless attendance on them.

Mrs. John Knightley was a reasonably , elegant little woman, of gentle, quiet manners, and a disposition remarkably amiable and affectionate; wrapt up in her family; a faithful wife, a doating mother, then tenderly attached to her father and sister that, except for these higher ties, a hotter love may need seemed impossible. She could never see a fault in any of them. She wasn't a lady of strong understanding or any quickness; and with this resemblance of her father, she inherited also much of his constitution; was delicate in her own health, over-careful of that of her children, had many fears and lots of nerves, and was as keen on her own Mr. Wingfield in town as her father might be of Mr. Perry. They were alike too, during a general benevolence of temper, and a robust habit of regard for each old acquaintance.

Mr. John Knightley was a tall, gentleman-like, and really clever man; rising in his profession, domestic, and respectable in his private character; but with reserved manners which prevented his being generally pleasing; and capable of being sometimes out of humour. He wasn't an ill-tempered man, not so often unreasonably cross on deserve such a reproach; but his temper wasn't his great perfection; and, indeed, with such a worshipping wife, it had been hardly possible that any natural defects in it shouldn't be increased. the acute sweetness of her temper must hurt his. He had all the clearness and quickness of mind which she wanted, and he could sometimes act an ungracious, or say a severe thing.

He wasn't an excellent favourite together with his fair sister-in-law. Nothing wrong in him escaped her. She was quick in feeling the small injuries to Isabella, which Isabella never felt herself. Perhaps she may need omitted more had his manners been flattering to Isabella’s sister, but they were only those of a calmly kind brother and friend, without praise and without blindness; but hardly any degree of private compliment could have made her no matter that greatest fault of beat her eyes which he sometimes fell into, the want of respectful forbearance towards her father. There he had not always the patience that would are wished. Mr. Woodhouse’s peculiarities and fidgetiness were sometimes provoking him to a rational remonstrance or sharp retort equally ill-bestowed. It didn't often happen; for Mr. John Knightley had really an excellent regard for his father-in-law, and usually a robust sense of what was thanks to him; but it had been too often for Emma’s charity, especially as there was all the pain of apprehension frequently to be endured, though the offence came not. the start , however, of each visit displayed none but the properest feelings, and this being necessarily so short could be hoped to pass on in unsullied cordiality. that they had not been long seated and composed when Mr. Woodhouse, with a melancholy shake of the top and a sigh, called his daughter’s attention to the sad change at Hartfield since she had been there last.

“Ah, my dear,” said he, “poor Miss Taylor — it's a grievous business.”

“Oh yes, sir,” cried she with ready sympathy, “how you want to miss her! And dear Emma, too! — What a dreadful loss to you both! — I even have been so grieved for you. — I couldn't imagine how you'll possibly do without her. — it's a tragic change indeed. — But I hope she is pretty much , sir.”

“Pretty well, my dear — I hope — pretty much . — I don't know but that the place agrees together with her tolerably.”

Mr. John Knightley here asked Emma quietly whether there have been any doubts of the air of Randalls.

“Oh! no — none within the least. I never saw Mrs. Weston better in my life — never looking so well. Papa is merely speaking his own regret.”

“Very much to the honour of both,” was the handsome reply.

“And does one see her, sir, tolerably often?” asked Isabella within the plaintive tone which just suited her father.

Mr. Woodhouse hesitated. —”Not near so often, my dear, as I could wish.”

“Oh! papa, we've missed seeing them but one entire day since they married. Either within the morning or evening of each day, excepting one, have we seen either Mr. Weston or Mrs. Weston, and usually both, either at Randalls or here — and as you'll suppose, Isabella, most often here. they're very, very kind in their visits. Mr. Weston is basically as kind as herself. Papa, if you speak therein melancholy way, you'll be giving Isabella a false idea folks all. every one must remember that Miss Taylor must be missed, but every one ought also to be assured that Mr. and Mrs. Weston do really prevent our missing her by any means to the extent we ourselves anticipated — which is that the exact truth.”

“Just because it should be,” said Mr. John Knightley, “and even as I hoped it had been from your letters. Her wish of shewing you attention couldn't be doubted, and his being a disengaged and social man makes it all easy. I even have been always telling you, my love, that I had no idea of the change being so very material to Hartfield as you apprehended; and now you've got Emma’s account, I hope you'll be satisfied.”

“Why, to make certain ,” said Mr. Woodhouse —”yes, certainly — I cannot deny that Mrs. Weston, poor Mrs. Weston, does come and see us pretty often — on the other hand — she is usually obliged to travel away again.”

“It would be very hard upon Mr. Weston if she didn't , papa. — You quite forget poor Mr. Weston.”

“I think, indeed,” said John Knightley pleasantly, “that Mr. Weston has some little claim. You and I, Emma, will venture to require the a part of the poor husband. I, being a husband, and you not being a wife, the claims of the person may very likely strike us with equal force. As for Isabella, she has been married long enough to ascertain the convenience of putting all the Mr. Westons aside the maximum amount as she will .”

“Me, my love,” cried his wife, listening to and grasp solely in part. — “Are you speaking about me? — I am certain no person ought to be, or can be, a increased recommend for matrimony than I am; and if it had now not been for the distress of her leaving Hartfield, I ought to by no means have idea of Miss Taylor however as the most lucky girl in the world; and as to slighting Mr. Weston, that awesome Mr. Weston, I assume there is nothing he does no longer deserve. I agree with he is one of the very best-tempered men that ever existed. Excepting your self and your brother, I do no longer recognize his equal for temper. I shall by no means overlook his flying Henry’s kite for him that very windy day final Easter — and ever when you consider that his precise kindness remaining September twelvemonth in writing that note, at twelve o’clock at night, on reason to guarantee me that there was once no scarlet fever at Cobham, I have been satisfied there may want to now not be a greater feeling coronary heart nor a higher man in existence. — If any physique can deserve him, it ought to be Miss Taylor.”

“Where is the younger man?” stated John Knightley. “Has he been right here on this event — or has he not?”

“He has no longer been right here yet,” answered Emma. “There used to be a sturdy expectation of his coming quickly after the marriage, however it ended in nothing; and I have no longer heard him referred to lately.”

“But you must inform them of the letter, my dear,” stated her father. “He wrote a letter to bad Mrs. Weston, to congratulate her, and a very proper, good-looking letter it was. She shewed it to me. I concept it very properly achieved of him indeed. Whether it was once his personal concept you know, one can't tell. He is however young, and his uncle, possibly —”

“My expensive papa, he is three-and-twenty. You overlook how time passes.”

“Three-and-twenty! — is he indeed? — Well, I may want to now not have notion it — and he used to be however two years ancient when he misplaced his bad mother! Well, time does fly indeed! — and my reminiscence is very bad. However, it was once an exceeding good, highly letter, and gave Mr. and Mrs. Weston a remarkable deal of pleasure. I keep in mind it was once written from Weymouth, and dated Sept. twenty eighth — and began, ‘My pricey Madam,’ however I forget about how it went on; and it used to be signed ‘F. C. Weston Churchill.’— I have in mind that perfectly.”

“How very attractive and desirable of him!” cried the good-hearted Mrs. John Knightley. “I have no doubt of his being a most amiable younger man. But how unhappy it is that he need to now not stay at domestic with his father! There is some thing so stunning in a child’s being taken away from his mother and father and herbal home! I by no means should recognize how Mr. Weston ought to phase with him. To provide up one’s child! I without a doubt by no means should suppose properly of any physique who proposed such a issue to any physique else.”

“Nobody ever did assume nicely of the Churchills, I fancy,” determined Mr. John Knightley coolly. “But you want no longer think about Mr. Weston to have felt what you would experience in giving up Henry or John. Mr. Weston is as a substitute an easy, cheerful-tempered man, than a man of robust feelings; he takes matters as he finds them, and makes enjoyment of them one way or the other or other, depending, I suspect, plenty greater upon what is known as society for his comforts, that is, upon the electricity of ingesting and drinking, and enjoying whist with his neighbours five instances a week, than upon household affection, or any aspect that domestic affords.”

Emma ought to no longer like what bordered on a reflection on Mr. Weston, and had half of a thinking to take it up; however she struggled, and let it pass. She would maintain the peace if possible; and there was once something honourable and treasured in the sturdy home habits, the all-sufficiency of domestic to himself, whence resulted her brother’s disposition to seem to be down on the frequent charge of social intercourse, and these to whom it used to be important. — It had a excessive declare to forbearance.