disa OIU and mortify the oJ ,I am sure, sir; friel tl', ood sor of people as ever lived, and who have been your I Ibours these ten years," • 1 0, UpOT' no account in the world. Mr. Weston, I am much obliged to you for remiu . 0 me. I should be e:Ntremely 0 ry to be giving them auy pain. I know what worthy. people tley are, Perry lells me that Mr. Cole uever to uches malt ltquor. YOll. WQuld not tllH it to look at lIi , but he is bilious-Mr. Cole IS very bilious. No, 1 would I t be the means of giving them a y ain. My dear Emma, \.,.. rn st consider this. I am sure, rather th.m .run the risk of hurtin • r. and Mrs. Cole, you would stay 1l Ittle longer than you i t wish. You will not rega~d bei?,g tired. You will be perfectly fe, you know, among your fnends. "Oh, yes, papa. 1 have no fears at all for myself; and I should have no scruples of staying as late ~s Mrs. Weston, hut yo~r account. 1 am only afraid of your sittmg up for me. I am t· aId of your not I '"g exceedingly comfortable \~ith Mrs. 0 ard. She loves piq ,you know; but when she IS gone h?me, 1 am afraid you will be sitting up by yourself, instead of ~omg bed at your usual time-and the idea of that would entirely destroy my comfort. You must promise me not to sit up." . He did, on the condition of some promises on her Side: uch as that if she came home cold, she would be sure to warm ('[self tho;oughly; if hungry, that she would take something to eat; that her own maid should sir up for her; and that Serle and the butler should see that every thing were safe in the house, as usual. 230 CHAPTER VIIl Frank Churchill came back again; and if he kept his father's dInner waiting, it was not known at Hartfield ; for Mrs. Weston was too anxious for his being a favourite with Mr. Woodhouse, to betray any imperfection which could be concealed. He came back, had had his hair cut, and laughed at himself with very good grace, but without seeming really at all ashamed of hat he had done. He had no reason to wish his hair longer, to (l ceal any confusion of face; no reason to \"ish the money unSI! t, to improve his spirits. He was quite as undaunted and as I. 'c1y" as ever; and after seeing him, Emma thus moralized to erself ;"I do not know whether it ought to be so, but certainly siIJy things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an imudent way. Wickedness is always wickedness, but folly is not alw ys folly.-It depends upon the character of those who handle it. 1r Knightley, he is not a trifling, silJy young man. If he were, he Id have done this differently. He would either have gloricd n he achievement, or been ashamed of it. There would have been . lcr the ostentation of a coxcamb, or the cvasions of a mind too wea~ to defend its own vanities.- 10 , I am perfectly sure that he i ot trifling or silJy." ~ith Tuesday came the agreeable prospect of seeing him again, a cl for a longer time than hitherto; of judging of his gencral anners, and by inference, of the meaning of his manners towards bt:l'seJ£ ; of guessing how soon it might be necessary for her to throw coldness into her air; and of faucying what the observations of all hose might be, 10 were now seeing thcm together for the first . 231 She meant to be very happy, in spite of the scene being 'd Qt Mr. Cole's; and without being able to forget that among t e failings of Mc Elton, even in the days of his favour, none n disturbed her more than his propensity to dine with Mr. Cnlc. Her father's comfort was amply secured, Mrs. Bates as well Mrs. Goddard being able to come; and her last pleasing dut}', before she left the house, was to pay her respects to them as th~y sat together after dinner; and while her father was fondly no . ~ ing the beauty of her dress, to make the two ladies all the amen s in her power, by helping them to large slices of cake and I glasses of wine, for whatever unwilling self-denial his care f their constitution might have obliged them to practise during t meal.-She had provided a plentiful dinner for them; she wished she could know that they had been allowed to eat it. She followed another carriage to Mc Cole's door; and was pleased to see that it was Mr. Knightley's; for Mc Kuightlcy keeping no horses, having little spare money and a great d ·1 of health, activity, and independence, was too apt, in Em s opinion, to get about as he could, and not use his carriage so ofte as became the owner of Donwell Abbey. She had an opportuni y now of speaking her approbation while warm from her heart, £ r he stopped to hand her out. "This is coming as you should do," said she, "like a gentleman. -I am quite glad to see you." He thanked her, observing, "How lucky that we should arrhle at the same moment! for, if we had met first in the drawio • room, I doubt whether you would have discerned me to be mo e of a gentleman than usual.-You might not have distinguish how I came, by my look or manner." "Yes I should, I am sure I should. There is always a look £ consciousness or bustle when people come in a way which th know to be beneath them. You think you carry it off very 11. I dare say, but with you it is a sort of bravado, an air of affect unconcern; I always observe it whenever I meet you under tho circumstances. Now you have notlling to try for. You are Dt afraid of being supposed ashamed. You are uot striving to 10 . taller than any body else. Now I shall really be very happy walk iota the same room with you." 232 "Nonsensical girl!" was his reply, but not at all in anger. Emma bad as much reason to be satisfied with the rest of the party as with Mc Knightley. She was received with a cordial respect which could not but please, and given all the consequence she could wish for. When the Westons arrived, the kindest looks of love, the strongest of admiration were for her, from both husband and wife; the son approached her with a cheerful eagerness which marked her as his peculiar object, and at dinner she found him seated by her-and, as she firmly believed, not without some dexterity on his side. The party was rather large, as it included one other family, a proper unobjectionable country family, whom the Coles had the advantage of naming among their acquaintance, and the male part of Mr. Cox's family, the lawyer of Highbury. The less worthy females were to come in th!::. ~ nillg, with Mis!.~·..... 9 ~ss Fliirfax, and MissSmltll i"!lut-already, at dinner, 'they were to~ '~umerous for any 'bject of conversation to be general; and while politics and Mr. Elton were talked over, Emma could fairly surrender all her attention to the pleasantness of her neighbour. The first remote sound to which she felt herself ohliged to attend, was the name of lane Fairfax. Mrs. Cole seemed to be relating something of her that was expected to be very interesting. She listened, and found it well worth listening to. That very dear part of Emma, her fancy, receh·ed an amusiug supply. Mrs. Cole was telling that she had been caIling on Miss Bates, and as soon as she entered the room had been struck by the sight of a pianoforte-a very cJegant looking instrument-not a grand, but a largesized square pianoforte; and the substance of the story, the end of all the dialogue which ensued of surprize, and inquiry, and congratulations on her side, and explanations on Miss Bates's, was, tbat this pianoforte had arrived from Broadwood's *the day before, to the great astonishment of both aunt and niece-entirely unexpected; that at first, by Miss Bates's account, lane herself was quite at a loss, quite bewildered to think who could possibly have ordered it~but now, they were both perfectly satisfied that it could be from only one quarter ;-of course it must be from Col. Campbelt so long if o·wn instrument~d by any body." it too large "Me !-I ~up o,e I smile for p easu t Col. CarnpbeIl's b lng so rich and so I" eral.-It is a ha ill pTllSent." . "Very." "I ra~j :r wonder that it was nev "Pe aps Miss Fairfax has never before." "Or that he did not give her the use 0 which must now be shut up in London, I "That is a grand pianoforte, and he m' for Mrs. Bates's house." "Y hou may say w at you chuse-but your llll that your thougbts on this subject are very mu h r: I "I do not know. I rather believe you are givi'l ID for acuteness than I deserve. I smile because you ~II probably suspect whatever I find you suspect; but t r 5 t LI not see what there is to question. 1£ Col. C ell i not the erson, who can be?" "What do you say to Mrs, Dixon?" ."Mrs. Dixon! very true indeed. I had not thought of Mrs. !Jlxon. She must know as well as her father, how acc pt lnstrument would be; and perhaps the mode of it, the the surprize, is more like a young woman's scheme than an J man's. It is Mrs. Dixon I dare say. I told you that your su ptd nl would guide mine." ."If s~, you must extend your suspicions and comprehend Mr. D1XOtl m them." "Mr. Dix?n:-Very well. Yes, I immediately perceive t.hat it must be the JOint present of Mr. and Mrs. Dixon. We were pc:akI g the other day, you know, of his being so warm an a n ir (of I er performance." "Yes, and what you told me on that head confi which, I h~d e(J~ertained ,bcfore.-I do not l~ean to r () up the good IOtentlOns of eIther Mr. Dixon or Miss F itf bUl J ca. no~ help suspecting e~ther that, after making his p r~. It 0 erbfnend, he had the 1 f ne to fall in love with 1, o. t. a. e ecame cons~ous a! a li e attachment on her si 'e ( l\e might mess twenty things wlthout guessing exactly the ri t ur e there must be a particular cause for her chu trI to h~," added Mrs. Cole, "and r wa er have been a doubt. But J n it seems, had a letter (om e very lately, and not a word '\.1 said about It. She know, l~'r ways best; but I should not consicl their silence as any rea r their not meaning to make Il present. They might ~'$ tl) surprize her." Mrs. Cole had many ~ ,., ee with her; every body who spa on the subject was e IUIll~ ( vinced that it must come from Col. Carnpbell, and eq. 11y joiced that such a present had been made; and there \,_11; 1" gh ready to speak to allow Emma to think her owu " at J still listen to Mrs. Cole. "I declare, I cl 0 know when I have heard any thing th has given m . ate s. action !-It always has quite hurt m~ t Jane Faid ys so delightfully, should not have an ius ment. It uite a shame, especially considering how man)" houses he aIt; where fiue instruments are absolutely thto /(11 w. y. TI' is like giving ourselves a slap, to be sure! and it '\' \11; 'J', terday I was telling Mr, Cok, I really was ashamed t loo" a our new grand pianoforte in the drawing-room, white I do nut know one note from another, aud our little girls, W elL just beginning, perhaps may never make any thing of j • anti ere is poor Jane Fairfax, who is mistress of music, has not . thiug of the nature of an iustrnm nt. not even the pili st Id spill let in the world, to amuse herself with,-I was s "m is to tr Cole but yesterday, and he quite agreed with n1 ; 011 'i .c is so particularly fond of music that he could not h I 1 dui 'og himself in the purchase, hoping that some of our goud I "f.! b urs might be so obliging occasionally to put it to a be r h n we can; and that really is the reason why the instru car • ~ L l ~ t-or else I am sure we ought to be ashamed of itWe om: il1 gtCat hopes that Miss Woodhouse may be prevail d with to I)' it this evening." Miss "oDJhause made the proper acquiescence; and finding that not' : I "- was to be entrapped from any communication of Mrs. CCI' umed to Frank Churchill. "Wh)' m' e ?" said she. "Nay, why d you?" 234 235 Highbury instead of going with the Campbells to Irelan~. she must be leading a life of privation and penance; there 1t w I have been all enjoyment. As to the pretence of trying her native air, I look upon that as a mere excuse.-In the summer it mi '" have passed; but what can any body's native air do for them in the months of January, February, and March? Good fires and carriages would be much more to the purpose in most cases f delicate health, and I dare say in her's. I do not require yo 0 adopt all my suspicions, though you make so noble a profes n of doing it, but I honestly tell you what they are." "And, upon my word, they have an air of great probability. Mr. Dixon's preference of her music to her friend's, I can answer for being very decided." "And then, he saved her life. Did you ever hear of that?A water-party; and by some accident she was falling overboard. He caught her." "He did. 1 was there-one of the party." "Were you really ?-Well !-But you observed nothing of course, for it seems to be a new idea to you.-If 1 had been there, 1 think I should have made some discoveries." "I dare say you would; but I, simple I, saw nothing but the fact, that Miss Fairfax was nearly dashed from the vessel and that Mr. Di.'C.on caught her.-It was the work of a moment. And though the consequent shock and alarm was very great and much more durable-indeed I believe it was half an hour before any of us were comfortable again-yet that was too general a sensation for any thing of peculiar anxiety to be observable. I do not mean to say, however, that you might not have made discoveries." The conversation was here interrupted. They were called on to share in the awkwardness of a rather long interval between the courses, and obliged to be as formal and as orderly as the others; but when the table was again safely covered, when every corner dish was placed exactly right, and occupation and ease were generally restored, Emma said, "The arrival of this pianoforte is decisive with me. I wanted to know a little more, and this tells me quite enough. Depend upon it, we shall soon hear that it is a present from Mr. and Mrs. Dixon." "And if the Downs should absolutely deny all knowledge of it we must conclude it to come from the Campbells." "No, I am sure it is not from the Campbells. Miss Fairfax ows it is not from the Campbells, or they would have been guessed at first. She would not have been puzzled, had she dared fix on them. I may not have convinced you perhaps, but I am perfectly convinced myself that Mr. Dixon is a principal in the business." "Indeed you injure me if you suppose me unconvinced. Your reasonings carry my judgment along with them entirely. At first, hile I supposed you satisfied that Col. Campbell was the giver, saw it only as paternal kindness, and thought it the most natural thing in the world. But when you mentioned Mrs. Dixon, I felt how much more probable that it should be the tribute of warm female friendship. And now I can sec it in no other light than as an offering of love." There was no occasion to press the matter farther. The COnviction seemed real; he looked as if he felt it. She said no more, other subjects took their turn; and the rest of the dinner passed away j the dessert succeeded, the children came in, and were talked to and admired amid the usual rate of conversation; a few clever things said, a few downright silly, but by much the larger proportion neither the one nor the other-nothing worse than every day remarks, dull repetitions, old news, and heavy jokes. The ladies had not been long in the drawing-room, before the other ladies, in their different divisions, arrived. Emma watched the entree of her own panicular little friend j and if she could not exult in her dignity and grace, she could not only love the blooming sweetness and the artless manner, but could most heartily rejoice in that light, cheerful, unsentimental disposition which allowed her so many alleviations of pleasure, in the midst of the pangs of disappointed affection. There she sat-and who would have guessed how many tears she had been lately shedding? To be in company, nicely dressed herself and seeing others nicely dressed, to sit and smile and look pretty, and say nothing, was enough for the happiness of the present hour. Jane Fairfax did look and move superior; but Emma suspected she might have 237 glad to dlange f Un- with Harriet, very glad lO • Lt the mortification 0 having loved-oyes, of havi g Jrw even Mr. Elton in vain-- c surrender of all the dane> nus pleasure of knowing [1 1'- r' doved by the husband of her fri r . In so large a p • s not necessary that Emma should approach her. She dl~ nn ':sh to speak of the pianoforte, ~ felt too much in the t.." .lerself, to think the appearance of CUI'Osit}' or interest fair, 3J LI erefote purposely kept at a distance; but by the others, LIlL s blect was almost immediately introduced, and she saw the blu h of consciousness with which congratulations were received, the In of guilt which accompanied the name of "my excel 11 friend Col. Campbell." Mrs. Westoll, kind-hearted and musical, was particularly ioterested by the circumstance, and Emma could not help beit • amused at her perseverance in dwelling on the subject; and having so much to ask and to say as to tone, touch, and ped' 1. totally unsuspicious of that wish of saying as little about it a possible, which she plainly read in the fair heroine's countenan They were soon joined by some of the gentlemen; and the very first of the early was Frank Churchill. In he walked, the first and the handsomest; and after paying his compliments en passant to Miss Bates and her niece, made his way directly to the opposi side of the circle, where sat Miss Woodhouse; and till he coul find'a seat by her, would not sit at all. Emma divined what ever body present must be thinking. She was his object, and every body must perceive it. She introduced him to her friend, Mis Smith, and, at convenient moments afterwards, heard what thought of the other. "He had never seen so lovely a face, an 'a. delighted with her naivete." And he,-"Only to be sure was paying him too great a campI' e ,but she did think ther Wcr 'ome looks a little like Mr. B1 ." Emma restrained h 1 indi"1 t .11, and only turned from her silence. Srnll r.f intelligence passed betwe 1 ler and the gentleman 011 log towards Miss Fairfa_ ; but it was most prudent p echo He told her that he ad been impatient to leave 00 -hated sitting long-was always the first to move when he coul that his father, Mr. Knightley, Mr. Cox, and Mr. Cole, were left very busy over parish business-that as long 238 as he had • I found them' I general a set of g t I:'IIlCll n.:e, sensible men; a s oke so handsomely of Highb . t: ·-thought it so undant in agreeable families-th began to feel she d been used to despise the place r. b I' tn 1 Ich She questioned him as to the society in Yorkshire-d· . t of th~ neighbourhood about Enscombe, and the so; c uld make out rrom his answers that, as far as Enscombe I cerned, there was very little going on; that their visitings . mong a range of great families, none very near; and that ~ 'lO"lI days were f ",cd, and invitations accepted, it was an even anc that Mrs. ~hurchill were not in health or spirits for gain : h • he made a point of visiting no fresh person; and that, th. LJ I h separate engagements, it was not without difficu L), ~ l sidcrable address at times, that he could get away, () an acquaintance for a night. She saw that Enscombe could not satisfy, and that Hi taken in its beSt, might reasonably please a young man . more retirement at home than he liked. His importance at combe was very evident. He did not boast, but it naturally betra ' itself, that he had persuaded his aunt where his uncle could do nothing, and on her laughing and noticing it, hc owned that c believed (excepting one or two points) he could with time p~rsuadc her to any thing. Onc of those points on which his influence failed, he then mentioned. He had wanted very much to go abroad-had been very eager indeed to be allowed to traveJbut she would not hear of it. This had happened the year bef r . Now, he said, he was beginning to have no longer the same wi.h. The unpcrsuadable point, which he did not mention, guessed to be good behaviour to his father. "I have made a most wretched discovery," said he, nIt r short pause.-"1 have been here a week to-morrow-half 1 never knew days fly so fast. A week to-morrow!-An hardly begun to enjoy myself. But just got acquainted Weston, and others !-1 hate the recollection." "Perhaps you may now begin to regret that you spent onE I ole day, out of so few, in having your hair cut." 239 "N " said he smiling "that is no subject of regret at alL I 0, " b l' 1£have no pleasure in seeing my friends, unless I can e leve myse fit to be seen." The rest of the gentlemen being now in the .room, Emm~ found herself obliged to turn from him for a few mmutes, and listen, to M Cole When Mr Cole had moved away, and her attentIOn co~ld be' restored a~ before, she saw Frank Chur~h~l1 looking intently across the room at Miss Fairfax, who was SlttlOg exactly opposite. "What is the matter?" said she. He started. "Thank you for rousing me," he replied. "I believ.e I have been very rude; but really Miss Fairfax has done her hair in so odd a way-so ,'ery odd a way-that I cannot keep my ey~s from her. I never saw auy thing so outree" !-Tho~e cU,rls !-T~IS must be a' fancy of her own. I see nobody else lookmg like her .I must go and ask her whether it is an Irish fashion. Shall I ?-.Yes, I will-l declare 1 will-and you shall see how she takes It;whether she colours." He was gone immediately; and Emma soon sa:v him standing before Miss Fairfax, and talking to her; but as to Its effect on the young lady, as he had improvide.ntly ~laced himself exactly between them, e.xactly in front of MIss Falrfax, she could absolutely distinguish nothing. Before he could return to his chair, it was taken by Mrs. Weston. "This is the luxury of a large party," said she :-"one can get near every body, and say every thing. My dear E~ma, I am lo~giog to talk to you. I have been making discovenes and formmg Plans 'Iust like yourself and I must tell them while the idea is fresh. , ' . h;l" Do you know how Miss Bates and her Olece came ere. "How I-They were invited, were not they?" "Oh! yes-but how they were conveyed hither ?-the manner of their coming?" " "They walked, 1 conclude. How else could they come? "Very true.-Well, a little while ago it occurred to me .how very sad it would be to have Jane Fairfax walking home agam. late at night and cold as the nights are now. And as 1 looked at her, thou~h 1 never saw her appear to more advantage, it struck: me that she was heated, and would therefore be particularly liable to 240 ke cold. Foor gsrl I could not bear r. to came into the room. and cou get at him, I spoke o t m' b ut the carriage. You may gue~ b I \. readily he came into w S les; and having his approbation, I 1~1 my way directly to iss Bates, to assure her that the can'; , uld be at her service before it took us home; for I thought 1 ~'O be making her comfortable at once. Good soul! she was as gr I cful as possible, you may be sure. 'Nobody was ever so fortunate as _rself I'-but with many, many thanks,--' there was no occasio, 0 11 le us, for r. Knightley's carriage had brought, and was tak t home again.' I was quite surprized ;-very glad, I am sUle; ut really quite surprized. Such a very kind attention-and so t 0 It f'Ll an attention !-the sort of thing that so few men would thin u. And, in short, from knowing his usual ways, I am very much inclined to think that it was for their accommodation the carriage was c aU. I do suspect he would not have had a pair of horses for hims H. and that it was only as an excuse for assisting them." "Very likely," said Emma-"nothing more likely. I know no man more likely than 1\1r. Knightley to do the sort of thing--to do any thing really good-natured, meful, considerate, or benevolent. He is not a gallant man. but he is a very humane one; and this. considering Jane Fairfax's ill health, would appear a case of bumanity to him ;-and for an act of un-ostentatious kindness, there is nobody whom I would fix on more than on Mr. Knightley. I know he had horses to-day-for we arrived togetber ; and I laughed at him about it, but be said not a word that could betray." "Well," said Mrs. Weston, smiling, "you give him credit for more simple, disinterested benevolence in this instance than I do; for while Miss Bates was speaking, a suspicion darted into head, and I have never been able to get it out again. The r I think of it, the more probable it appears. In short, I have nw. c a match between Mr. Knightley and Jane Fairfax. See the consequence of keeping you company I-What do you say to it?" "1\11'. Knightley and Jane Fairfax I" exclaimed Emma. "D Mrs. Weston, how could you think of such a thing?- -nig tley!-Mr. Knightley must not marry [-You would no :IV liTtle Henry cut out from Donwell ?-Oh! no, no, H :l . must ve Donwc11. I cannot at all consent to Mr. Knightley's ma 1 ; and 241 1 am sure it is not at all likely. I am amazed that you should think of such a thing." "My dear Emma, 1 have told you what led me to think of it. 1 do not want the match-1 do not want to injure dear little Henry -but the idea has been given me by circumstances; and if Mr. Knightley really wished to marry, you would not have him refrain on Henry's account, a boy of six years old, who knows nothing of the matter?" "Yes, I would. 1 cO:.lld not bear to have Henry supplanted.Mr. Knigbtley marry I-No, I have never had such an idea, an~ I cannot adopt it now. And Jane Fairfax, too, of all women I "Nay, she has always been a first favourite with him, as you very well know." "But the imprndeI:tce of such a match I" "1 am not speaking of its prudence; merely its probability." . "1 see nO probability in it, unless you have any better foundatIOn than what you mention. His good-nature, his humanity, as 1 tell you, would be quite enough to account for the horses. He has. a great regard for the Bateses, you know, independent of Jane Falrfax-and is always glad to shew attention. My dear Mrs. Weston, do not take to match-making. You do it very ill. Jane Fairfax mistress of the Abbey !-Oh! no, no i-every feeling revolts. For his own sake, 1 would not have him do so mad a thing." "Imprudent, if you please-but not mad. Excepting inequalitJ: of fortune, and perhaps a little disparity of age, I can see nothl11g unsuitable." "But Mr. Knightley does not want to marry. 1 am sure he has not the least idea of it. Do not put it into his head. Why should he marry ?-He is as happy as possible by himself; with his farm, and his sheep, and his library, and all the parish to manage ; an~ he is extremely fond of his brother's children. He has no occasIOn to marry, either to fill np his time or his heart." "My dear Emma, as long as he thinks so, it is so ; but if he really loves Jane Fairfax---" "Nonsense I He does not care about Jane Fair£ax. In the way of love, I am sure he does not. He would do any good to her, or her family; but--'! 242 "Well," said Mrs. Weston, laughing, "perhaps the greatest good he could do them, would be to give Jane such a respectable home." "If it would be good to her, I am sure it would be evil to himself; a very shameful and degrading connection. How would he bear to have Miss Bates belonging to him ?- To have her haunting the Abbey, and thanking him all day long for his great kindness in marrying Jane ?-'So very kind and obliging !-But he always had been such a very kind neighbour!' And then fly off, through half a sentence, to her mother's old petticoat. 'Not that it was such a very old petticoat either-for still it would last a great while-and, indeed, she must thankfully say that their petticoats were all very strong.' " "For shame, Emma! Do not mimic her. You divert me against my conscience. And, upon my word, I do not think Mr. Knightley would be much disturbed by Miss Bates. Little things do not irritate him. She might talk on ; and if he wanted to say any thing himself, he would only talk louder, and drown her voice. But the question is not, whether it would be a bad connexion for him, but whether he wishes it; and I think he does. I have heard him speak, and so must you, so very highly of Jane Fairfax! The interest he takes in her-his anxiety about her health-his concern that she should have no happier prospect! I have heard him express himself so warmly on those points I-Such an admirer of her performance on the pianoforte, and of her voice! I have heard him say that he could listen to her for ever. Oh! and I had almost forgotten one idea that occurred to mc-this pianoforte that has been sent her by somebody-though wc have all been so well satisfied to consider it a present from the Campbells, may it not be from Mr. Knightley? I cannot help suspecting him. I think he is just the person to do it, even withont being in love." "Then it can be no argument to prove that he is in love. But 1 do not think it is at all a likely thing for him to do. Mr. Knightley does nothing mysteriously." "I have heard him lamenting her having no instrument repeatedly; oftener than I should suppose such a circumstance would, in the common course of things, occur to him." "Very well; and if he had intended to give her one, he would have told her so." 243 at r. t. But ether "There might be scruples of delicacy, my dear Ernma. I have a very strong notion tha i comes from him. I am sure he was particularly silent when t1r.. Cole told us of it at dinner." "You take up an idea. Mrs. Weston, and run away with it; as you have many a tiro proached me with doing. I see no sign of attachment-I bdi v nothiug of the pianoforte-and proof only shall convince t at Mr. Knightley has any thought of marrying lane Fair-Eo It." They combated I point some time longer in the same way; Emma rather gaiHin ground over the mind of her friend; for Mrs. Weston w, 'he most used of the two to yield; till a little bustle in t e r om D ed them that tea was over, and the instrument in p ,. on ;-and at the same moment Mr. Cole ap· proachi a Ut ~at Miss Woodhouse would do them the honour of t g it. 1 rank Churchill, of whom, in the eagerness of her conv rsatllJn with Mrs. Weston, she had been seeing nothing. excep t 1 • had found a seat by Miss Fairfa.x, followed Mr. Cole, to . tld his very pressing entreaties; and as, in every respect, it !l l~ed Emma best to lead, she gave a very proper compliance. She knew the limitations of her own powers too well to attempt mere than she could perform with credit; she wauted neither spirit in the little things which are generally acceptable, I accompauy her own voice welL One accompaniment song took her agreeably by surprize-a second, slightly but Iv taken by Frank ChurchilL Her pardon was duly begged lose of the snng, and every thing usual followed. He was s () having a delightful voice, and a perfect knowledge o mu i~-. which was properly denied; and that he knew nothiug o c cter, and had no voice at all, roundly asserted. They ,~ ler once more; and Emma would then resign her place ss , whose performance, I th vocal and instrumental, she e-.,·cr wuld attempt to conceal f m herself, was infinitely superj r 0 her own. With e feelings, she seated herself at a little distance from the num) r round the instrument, to listen. Frank Churchill sang again. c: had sung together once or twice, it appeared, at Weymou . But the sight of Mr. Knightley among the most attentive, so • drew away half Emma's mind; and she fell into 244 a train of thinking on the subjec of 1r. Weston's suspicio s, to which e eet sounds of the united 'oice! f!:ave only moment internrr I Her objections to Mr. 'night ey's marrying did not in t le least sub~ide. She could s I) hi g but evil in it. t would e a great disappointment to Mr. 1 'nightIey; consequently to Isabdla. A real injury to the 1 -a most mortifying change, and material loss to them all ;-a y y reat deduction from her father's daily comfort-and, as to c elf. she could not at all endure the idea of lane Fairfax at u 1 I Abbey. A Mrs. Knightley for them all to give way to 1-. I 1r I ightley must never marry. Little Henry must remain the he r [If onwel!. Presently Mr. Knightley looked back, and came a I by her. They talked at first only of the performance. l-' tion was certainly very warm; yet she thought, but I Weston, it would not have struck her. As a sort of ou tone, however, she began to speak of his kindness in conv iD tlle aunt and niece; and though his answer was in the spirit of t ing the matter short, she believed it to indicate only his disinc1i rIDn to dwell on any kindness of is own. "I often feel concerned," said she, "that I dare not make our carriage more useful on such occasions. It is not that I am without the wish; but you know how impossible my father would deem it that lames should put-to for such a purpose." "Quite out of the question, quite out of tbe question," he replied ;-"but you must often wish it, I am sure." And he smiled with such seeming pleasure at the conviction, that she must proceed another step. "This present from the Campbells," said she-"This pianoforte is very kindly given." "Yes," he replied, and without the smallest apparent embanns ment.-"But they would have done better had they gi 'en her notice of it. Surprizes are foolisb things. The pleasure i or) enhanced, and the inconvenience is often considerable. 1 .hollld have expected better judgment in Colonel Campbell." From that moment, Emma could have taken ber oa Knightley had had no concern in giving the 'us mm whether he were entirely free from peculiar attar") t 245 there were no actual preference-remained a little longer doubtful. Towards the end of Jane's second song, her voice grew thick. "That will do," said he. when it was finished, thinking a1oud"You have sung quite enough for one evening-now, be quiet." Another song, however, was soon begged for. "One more;they would not fatigue Miss Fairfax on any account, and would only ask for onc more." And Frank Churchill was heard to say, "I think you could manage this without effort; the first part is so very trifling. The strength of the song falls on the second." Mr. Knightley grew angry. "That fellow," said he, indignantly, "thinks of nothing but shewing off his own voice. This must not be." And touching Miss Bates, who at that moment passed near-"Miss Bates, are you mad, to let your niece sing herself hoarse in this manner? Go, and interfere. They have no mercy on her." Miss Bates, in her real anxiety for Jane, could hardly stay even to be grateful, before she stept forward and put an end to all further sin,~jng_ Here ceased the concert part of the evening, for Miss Woodhouse and Miss Fairfax were the only young-IadyperEormers; but soon (within five minutes) the proposal of dancing-originatin~ nobody exactly knew where-was so effectually promoted by Mr. and Mrs. Cole, that every thing was rapidly clearing away, to give proper space. Mrs. Weston, capital in her country-dances, was seated, and be/rinning an irresistible waltz; and Frank Churchill, coming up with most becomin~ gallantry to Emma, had secured her hand, and led her up to the top. While waiting till the other young people could pair themselves off, Emma found time, in spite of the compliments she was receiving on her voice and her taste, to look about, and see what became of Mr. Knightley. This would be a trial. He was no dancer in general. If he were to be very alert in engaging Jane Fairfax now, it might augur something. There was no immediate appearance. No; he was talking to Mrs. Cole-he was looking on unconcerned; Jane was asked by somebody else, and he was still talking to Mrs. Cole. Emma had no longer an alarm for Henry; his interest was yet safe; and she led off the dance with genuine spirit and enjoyment. Not more than five couple could be mustered; but 246 the rarity and the suddenness of it made it very delightful, and she found herself well matched in a partner. They were a couple worth looking at Two dances *, unfortunately, were all that could be allowed. It was growiug late, and Miss Bates became anxious to get home, on her mother's account. After some attempts, therefore, to be permitted to begin again, they were obliged to thank Mrs. Weston, look sorrowful, and have done. "Perhaps it is as well," said Frank Churchill, as he attended Emma to her carriage. "I must have asked Miss Fairfax, and her languid dancing would not have agreed with me, after your's." 247 who knew any hIng abuut L st have felt tbe 1lI rence. "trnt: is, Harriet, t Ilt my In)in. is just d enou IJ to be ai d, but Jane Fairfax's' mu b~.\ond it. • "\~ • J I ways shall think that Y0\.l pI q,ulte as well as she does, at' there is any difIert'llce I od, uld ever find it out. I. Cole said how much ta re Id ; a L r. Frank Churchill talked a great deal about you that he valued taste much more than execution." "Ah I but Janc Fairfax has them both, Hr r . "Are you sure? I saw she had execution, 11 she had any taste. Nobody talked about"t. _ singing.-There is no understanding a word does play so very well, you know. it is n obliged to do, because she will have to teach. wondering last . ht whether she would get into a How did yOlI think the Coxes looked?" "Just as they always do-very vulgar." "They told me somet 1 "" said Harriet rather "but it is nothing of any consequence." Emma was obliged to ask what they had told her, t b fearful of its producing Mr. Elton. "They told me-that Mr. Martin dined with them last S Uf"- day." "Oh!" "He came to their father n some business, and he him to stay dinner." "Oh !" "They talked a great deal about him, especially Anne Cox. I do not no what she m tU) but she asked me if I loug 1 should go and stay there agaln next summer." "She meant to be impertJnently curious, just as such. 0 ne Cox should be." "She said he was very a r able the day he di sat by her at dinner. Miss thinks either of t c be very glad to marry " "Very likcly.-I thi are, without excep' . the most vulgar girls in Hlghbu _ • C APTER IX Emma did not [ flen .her condescension in going to the Coles. The visit affQr led I lr pleasaut recollections the next day; and all that sh l ,I t be supposed to have lost on the side oE dignified sec11l ust be Iy repaid in the splendour of popularity. _he st ave deli h-ed the Coles-worthy people, who rv d to be made hap )' !-A'ld left a name behind her that WI u not soon die away. P rr ppiness, e I::l1 ill memory, is not corn lon; and there wen~ 'wo p in s 011 W lieu she was not u'te easy. She daub wile r Me I ad not transgressed the duty of wo by wam i b r In her suspicions of Jane Fairfax's fec11ngs to Fra Ch dJ.' 1. It was hardly right; but it had been so ~ ong an i '3t woul escape her, and his submi3sion to al tl.. she tal • " p j ent to her penetration which made it difficult for qUI e certain that she ought to have held her tongue. le circumstance of regret related also to Jane ill x; t e '1 no doubt. She did feignedly aud unequr. 0et t e inferiority of her own aying and singing. Si e di os heartily grieve over the idlel1css of her ch'ldhoo and S.1t daw and practised vigorously an hour and a I al£. She n interrupted by Harriet's coming in; and if Harriet's Guld have satisfied her, she might soon have b n comf r "Oh I j [could but play as well as you and Miss Fairfax!" class s together, Harriet. dy playing is no more like r IS like sunshine." "Oh I It>, -I think you play the best of the hvo. I you play qui e , ell as she does. I am sure I had much r r hear you. E 'e body last night said how well you playecL" 248 249 Harriet bad business at Ford's.-Emma thought it most prudent to go with her. Another accidental meeting with the Martins was possible, and, in her present state, would be dangerous. Harriet, tempted by every thing and swayed by half a word, was always very long at a purchase; and while she was still hanging over muslins and changing her mind, Emma went to the door for amusement.-Much could not be hoped from the traffic of even the busiest part of Highbury ;-Mr. Perry walking hastily by, Mr. William Cox letting himself in at the office door, Mr. Cole's carria c horses returning from exercise, or a stray letter-boy on 0 stinate mule, were the liveliest objects she could presume . pect; and when her eyes fell only on the butcher with hi~ trny, a tidy old woman travelling homewards from shop with her full basket, two curs quarrelIing over a dirty bone, and a string of dawdling children round the baker's little bow-window eyeing the gingerbread, she knew she had no reason to complain, and was amused enough; quite enough still to stand at the door. ind lively and at ease, can do with seeing nothing, and can see nollling that does not answer. She looked down the Randalls road. The scene enlarged; two persons appeared; Mrs. Weston and her son-in-law; they were walking into Highbury ;-to Hartfield of course. They were stopping, however, in the first place at Mrs. Bates's; whose house was a little nearer Randalls than Ford's; and had all but knocked, when Emma caught their eye.-Immediately they crossed the road and came forward to her; and the agreeableness of yesterday's engagement seemed to give fresh pleasure to the present meeting. Mrs. Weston informed her that she was going to call on the Bateses, in order to hear the new instrument. "For my companions tells me," said she, "that I absolutely promised Miss Bates last night, that I would come this morning. I was not aware of it myself. 1 did not know that 1 had fixed a day, but as he says 1 did, 1 am going now." "And while Mrs. Westou pays her visit, 1 may be allowed, I hope," said Frank Churchill, "to join your party and wait for her at Hartfield-if you are going home." Mrs. Weston was disappointed. 250 "I thought you meant to go with me. They would be very much pleased." "Me! 1 should be quite in the way. But, perhaps-I may be equally in the way here. Miss Woodhouse looks as if she did not want me. My aunt always sends me off when she is shopping. She says 1 fidget her to death; and Miss Woodhouse looks as if she could almost say the same. What am I to do?" "I am here on no business of my own," said Emma, "I am only waiting for my friend. She will probably have soon done, and then we shall go home. But you had better go with Mrs. Weston and hear the instrument." "Well-if you advise it.-But (with a smile) if Col. Campbell should have employed a careless friend, and if it should prove to have an indifferent tone-what shall 1 say? I shall be no support to Mrs. Weston. She might do very well by herself. A disaRreeable truth would be palateable through her lips, but 1 am the wretchedest being in the world at a civil falsehood." "1 do not believe any such thing," replied Emma.-"1 am persuaded that you can be as insincere as your neighbours, when it is necessary; but there is no reason to suppose the instrument is indifferent. Quite otherwise indeed, if I understood Miss Fairfax's opinion last night." "Do come with me," said Mrs. Weston, "if it be not very disa~reeable to you. It need not detain us long. We will go to Hartfield afterwards. We will follow them to Hartfie1d. I really wish you to call with me. It will be felt so great an attention 1 and I always thought you meant it." He could say no more; and with the hope of Hartfield to reward him, returned with Mrs. Weston to Mrs. Bates's door. Emma watched them in, and then joined Harriet at the interesting counter,-trying, with all the force of her own mind, to convince her that if she wanted plain muslin it was of no use to look at figured; and that a blue ribbon, be it ever so beautiful, would still never match her yellow pattern. At last it was all settled, even to the destination of the parcel. "Should I send it to Mrs. Goddard's, ma'am ?"asked Mrs. Ford. "Yes-no-yes, to Mrs. Goddard's. Only my pattern gown is at Hartfield. No, you shall send it to Hartfield, if you please. But 251 manner in the world, fastening in t n,' It of my mother's .p -- taclcs.-The rivet came out, you kn \' .1:ili morning.-So . obliging !-For my mother had no use f her spectacles-coul not put them on. And, by the bye, every bn. y oUP.:ht to have two pair of spectacles; they shonld indeed. J:m r.aid so. I meant to take them over to John Saunders * the first in I did but somethiug or other hindered me all the morning; r one 'thing, then another, there is no saying what, you know. t !lne time Patty came to say she thought the kitchen chimne) sweeping. Oh! said I, Patty do not come with your bad J '" J me. Here is the rivet of yonr mistress's spectacles out. I he baked apples came home, Mrs. Wallis sent them by h . lJ • tI _y are extremely civil and obliging to us, the Wallises, a Vil s- . ve heard some people say that Mrs. WalJis can be unciv J d give a vcr)' rude auswer, but we have never known any t b e greatest attention from them. And it cannot be for the I of our custom now, for what is our consumption of bread, } Only three of us-besides dear Jane at present-and h eats nothing-makes such a shockiug breakfast, you would e uhe frightened if you saw it. I dare not let my mother know how link she eats-so I say one thing and then I say another, and it pas e of!. But abont the middle of the day she gets hungry, and ther is nothing she likes so well as these baked apples, and they are tremely wholesome. for I took the opportunity the other ay asking Mc. Perry; I happened to meet him iu the street. o~ I had any doubt before--I have so often heard Mc. W 0 I recommend a baked apple. I believe it is the only way h· Mr. Woodhouse thinks the fruit thoroughly wholesome. XI It. apple dumplings, however, very often. Patty makes an e U apple-dumpling. Well, Mrs. Weston, you have prevailed, ! b and these ladies win oblige us." Emma would be "very happy to wait on Mrs. Bates, they did at last move out of the shop, with no further cl' Miss Bates than, "How do you do, Mrs. Ford? I beg your pardon. 1 j J not see you before. I hear you have a charming collection ol cw ri ns from town. Jane came back delighted yesterday. '1 ye, the another half-second. to the subject. To ,~ . Ford." I much best," said Harriet, quite satisfied, I ike to have it sent to Mrs. Goddard's." a:PllittJlElc.ll the shop-or rather one voice and two ;g, W l 11 and Miss Bates met them at the door. :ss Woodhouse," said the latter, "I am just run reat e favour of you to come and sit down with lIe, llnd give us fOur opinion of our new instrument; i-h. How do you do, Miss Smith ?-Very well I begged Mrs. Weston to come with me, that l'U ~ of succeeding." , 1 1 Jr:. B. res and Miss Fairfax are"--- "V -, • dJ I 1I much obliged to you. My mother is deIightll~' ~ ell; and ]an" aught no cold last night. How is Mr. Woodhou <: --t WT1 so gla to hear such a good account. Mrs. Weston told ·ou wc here.-Oh! then, said I, I must run across, I am Sl1 • I 1 odhouse will allow me just to run across and ent l;.it I 11 (' lll\l' i ; my mother Will \1" so very happy to see her de such a nice party, ~he cannot refuse. 'Aye, pray 0,' "aid. 'Ir. Frank Churchill, ' li s Woadhouse's opinion of the in tl.'umCII( ill be worth having.'-But, said I, I shall be o sue.r edJog if onc of you will go with IDe.-'Oh I' said h 1 'l1iOl~t ill I have finished my job.' For, would roadhouse, there he is, in the most obliging l.l • Mrs. Goddard '\1.1Il t Lt) see it.-And I could take the altern gown home any I y. D r Tshall want the ribbon directlyso it had better go to -at least the ribbon. You could make it into two parcels, I 1 , Ford, could uot you?" "It is not worth 'hit" 111:net, to give Mrs. Ford the trouble of two parcels." "No more it is." "No trouble in the 'or! ma'am," said the obliging Mrs. Ford. "Oh! but ind J I 0 ILl much rather have it only in one. Then, if yo 'IU , fOU sbal send it all to Mrs. Goddard's-I do not know I 0 1 ink A1SS Woodhonse, I ma)' just as well have it "ent tn JI nh I, and take it home with me at night. What do' I ?.. "That} Hartfi W if ' "A c ha! "I ho 252 253 gloves do very well-only a little too large about the wrist; but lane is taking them in." "What was I talking of?" said she, beginning again when they were all in the street. Emma wondered on what, of all the medley, she would fix. "I declare I cannot recollect what I was talking of.-Oh I my mother's spectacles. So very obliging of Mr. Frank Churchill I 'Oh!' said he, 'I do think I can fasten the rivet; I like a job of this kind excessively.'-Which 11 know shcwed him to be so very.... Indeed I must say t a: much as I had heard of him before and much as I had exp d, he very far exceeds any thing.... I do congratulate you, M . Weston, most warmly. He seems every thing the fondest paren could.... ' Oh I' said he, •I can fasten the rivet. I like a j of that sort excessively.' I never shall forget his manner. And w en I brought out the baked apples from the closet, and hoped our friends would be so very obliging as to take some, , Oh !' said he directly, 'there is nothing in the way of fruit half so good, and these are the finest looking home-baked apples I ever saw in my life.' That, you know, was so very.... And I am sure, by his manner, it was no compliment. Indeed they are very delightful apples, and Mrs. Wallis does them full justice-only we do not have them baked more than twice, and Mr. Woodhouse made us promise to have them done three times-but Miss Woodhouse will be so good as not to mention it. The apples themselves are the very finest sort for baking, beyond a doubt; all from Donwell-some of Mr. Knightley's most liberal supply. He sends us a sack every year; and certainly there never was such a keeping apple any where as one of his trees-I believe there is two of them. My mother says the orchard was always famous in her younger days. But I was really quite shocked the other day-for Mr. KnightJey called one morning, and Jane was eating these apples, and we talked about them and said how much she enjoyed them, and he asked whether we were not got to the end of our stock. 'I am sure you must be,' said he, •and I will send you another supply; for I have a great many more than I can ever use. William Larkins let me keep a larger quantity than usual this year. I will send you, some more, before they get good for nothing.' So I begged he would not-for really as to ours being gone, I could not absolutely say that we had a great many 254 left-it was but half a dozen indeed; but they should be all kept for lane; and I could not at all bear that he should be sending us more, so liberal as he had been already; and lane said the same. And when he was gone, she almost quarrelled with me-No, I. should not say qnarrelled, for we never had a quarrel in our hves; but she was quite distressed that I had owned the apples were so nearly gone; she wished I had made him believe we had a great many left. Oh ! said I, my dear, I did say as much as I could. However, the very same evening William Larkins came over with a large basket of apples, the same sort of apples, a bushel at least, and I was very much obliged, and went down and spoke to William Larkins and said every thing, as you may suppose. William Larkins is such an old acquaintance! I am always glad to see him. But, however, I found afterwards from Patty, that William said it was all the apples of that sort his master had; he had brought them alland now his master had not one left to bake or boil. WiIliam did not seem to mind it himself, he was so pleased to think his master had sold so many; for William, you know, thinks more of his master's profit than any thing; but Mrs. Hodges, he said, was quite displeased at their being all sent away. She could not bear that her master should not be able to have another apple-tart this spring. He told Patty this, but bid her not mind it, and be sure not to say any thing to us about it, for Mrs. Hodoes would be cross sometimes, and as long as so many sacks we~e sold, it did not signify who ate the remainder. And so Patty told mc, and I was excessively shocked indeed! I would not have Mr. Knightley know any thing about it for the world! He would be so very ... I wanted to keep it from lane's knowledge; but unluckily, I had mentioned it before I was aware." Miss Bates had just done as Patty opened the door; ~ cl her visitors walked up stairs without having any regular narrat'on to attend to, pursued only by the sonnds of her desultory good- 'ut. "Pray take care, Mrs.. Weston, there is a step at the turninb . Pray take care, Miss Woodhonse, onrs is rather a dark staircas~-rather darker and narrower than one could wish. Miss Smith, pray take care. Miss Woodhouse, I am quite concerned, I am sure you hit your foot. Miss Smith, the step at the turning." 255 PTER X c first bars were lly done full )1 ce and was delighted nd the pianoforte, l;d to be altogether 257 At " began, and thou given, t ts of the instrument, to. Mr. Wc ~on had been delight again;' la joined her in all her with ever: roper discrimination, was pr of the I st promise. "Whoever Co1. Campbell might employ:' Frank Churchill, with a smile at Emma, "the person has not 10 ill. I heard a good deal of Col. Campbell's taste at We)' 011 i' Dd the softness of the upper notes I am sure is exactly '\ C 1 all that party would particularly prize. I dare say, 1\1,,,. \',1[" that he either gave his friend very minute directions, or w • In Broadwood himself. Do not you think so?" Jane did not look round. She was not obliged to hear. Mrs. Weston had been speaking to her at the same moment. "It is not fair," said Emma in a whisper, "mine was a random guess. Do not distress her." He shook his head with a smile, and looked as if he had ,"ery little doubt and very little mercy. Soon afterwards he began again, "How mnch your friends in Ireland must be enjoying your pleasure on this occasion, Miss Fairfax. I dare say they often think of you, and wonder which will be the day, the precise day of the instrument's coming to hand. Do you imagine Co1. Campbell knows the business to be going forward just at this time ?-Do you imagine it to be the consequence of au immediate commission from him, or that he may have sent only a general direction, an order indefinite as to time, to depend upon contingeucies and conveniencies ?" He paused. She could not but hear; she could not avoid answ r ing. "Till 1 have a letter from Co1. Campbell," said she, in a ~ I of forced calmness, "1 can imagine nothing with any conti n e It must be all conjecture." "Conjecture-aye, sometimes one conjectures right, and mtimes one conjectures wrona , I wish I could conjecture ho n I shall make this rivet quit firm. What nonsense Q e . ,.M . Woodhouse, when hard at wnrk, if one talks at a1 '--:our real l C' , working uninterruptedly," he replied, "I have 11 airfax in trying to make her instrument stand I t quite firm; an une' nness in the floo~, I believe. . ha 'e been wedging one g with paper. ThIS was very persuaded to come. I was almost afraid you e lun i Ig lOme." ntn 'C she should be se by him; and was suffilooking out the best haked apple for her, and , elp or advise him in . work, till Jane Fairfax tu sit down to the pi... forte again. That she was I ready, Emma did suspe ID arise from the state be 3d at yet possessed ne instrument long enough O~ erno 'on ; she must reaso herself into the power n ma could not b pity such feelings, whatI could not but resol never to expose them little sitting-room as they entered, was 1£: 1r. tcs, deprived of her usual employment, onc ride: of he fire, Frank Churchill, at a table n~r I1 a. p about her spectacles, a~d Jane, Falf'1 I J: to them, intent on her pIanoforte. ~ er, the young man was yet able to shew . c untd nce' on seeing Emma again. ur ," said he, in rather a low voice, "coming. at tell IOU ut c.:. dkr than I had calculated. You find me trylDg 11 e if you think 1 shall succeed." frs. Weston, "have not you finished it yet ~ you very good livelihood as a working-silversmith at The appe trauquillity i slumbering ber, most fax, sta iD Busy a most 256 workmen, I suppose, hold their tongues; but w~ gentlem~n labourers if we get hold of a word-Miss Fairfax said something about conjecturing. There, it is done. I have the pleasure, madam, (t~ Mrs. Bates,) of restoring your spectacles, healed for the present. He was very warmly thanked borh by mother ~nd dau~hter; to escape a little from the latter, he, ~ent to. rhe pianoforte, ~nd begged Miss Fairfax, who was still S)ttlfig at It, to play somethlfig more. "If you are very kind," said he, "it will be one o~ the waltz~s we danced last night ;-let me live them over agalO. Y~u did not enjoy them as I did; you appeared tired the whole time. I believe you were glad we danced no longer; but I would have given worlds-all the worlds one ever has to give-for another half hour." She played. . . "What felicity, it is to hear a tune again which has ~?de one happy I-If I mistake not that was danced at Weymouth. She looked up at him for a moment, coloured deeply, and played something else. He took some ~usic from a chair near the pianoforte and turning to Emma, said, "Here is sorr:ething quite new to me. Do y?u know it?-Cramer*. -And here are a new set of Irish melodies. !llat, f~om such a quarter, one might expect. This was all sent With rhe lfistrume~t. Very thoughtfu I of Col. Campbell, was not it?-He knew MISS Fairfax could have no music here. I honour that part of the attention particularly; it shews it to hav~ be~n so rhoroughly fro~ the heart. Nothing hastily done; nothIng Ulcomplete. True affec tion only could have prompted it." Emma wished he would be less pointed, yet could not help being amused; and when on glancing her eye towards Jane Fa.lrfax she caught the remains of a smile, when she saw that. With all the d p blush of consciousness, there had been a sm!le of secret de' It, she had less scruple in the amusement, and ~uch less compunction with respect to her.-This amiable, up[)~ht, perfect Jane Fairfax was apparently cherishing very reprehensible kclin~ . He brought all the music to her, an~ the~ looked It over together. -Emma to the opportunity of whlspenng, 258 "You speak too plain. She must understand you." "I hope she does. 1 would have her understand me. I am not in the least ashamed of my meaning." "But really, I am half ashamed, and wish 1 had never taken up the idea." "I am very glad you did, and that you eommunicated it to me. I have now a key to all her odd looks and ways. Leave shame to her. If she does wrong, she ought to feel it." "She is not entirely, without it, I think." "I do not see much sign of it. She is playing Robin Adair* at this moment-his favourite." Shortly afterwards Miss Bates, passing near the window, descried Mr. Knightley on horseback not far off. "Mr. Knightley I declare !-I must speak to him if possible, just to thank him. 1 will not open the window here; it would give you all cold; but 1 can go into my mother's room you know. I dare say he will come in when he knows who is here. Quite delightful to have you all meet so !-Our little room so honoured !" She was in the adjoining chamber while she still spoke, and opening the casement there, immediately called Mr. Knightley's attention, and every syllahle of their conversation was as distinctly heard by the others, as if it had passed within the same apartment. "How d'ye do ?-how d'ye do ?-Very well, I thank you. So obliged to you for the carriage last night We were just in time; my mother just ready for us. Pray come in; do come in. You will nnd some friends here." So began Miss Bates; and Mr. Knightley seemed determined to be heard in his turn, for most resolutely and commandingly did he say, "How is your niece, Miss Bates ?-I want to inquire after you all, but particularly your niece. How is Miss Fairfax ?-I hope she caught no cold last night. How is she to-day? Tell me how Miss Fairfax is." And Miss Bates was obliged to give a direct answer before he would hear her in any thing else. The listeners were amused; and Mrs. Weston gave Emma a look of particular meaning. But Emma still shook her head in steady scepticism. 259 ~ in a deliberating manner, "for five minutes, really are so shocked! _in. Ho 'e11 be angry. illllUU Larkins mentioned it here. You have done it, in you should not. Ah! he is off. e lie et ao bear to be ballkeJ. But 1 thought he would have staid ov.- all it woul have b a pity not to have mentioned.. • (r llmil into the room,) I have not been able to su e r , I !1tley can<1ot stop. He is going to Kingston. He as 1£ c could do any thir g' .... "Yes," said Jane, "we heard his kind oH cs, we heard every thing," "Oh! yes, my dear, I dare say you might, the door was open, and the window was open spoke loud. You must have heard e\'erythu ) I I do any thing for you at Kingston?' said he ; t 1 IU t m ed .... Oh! Miss Woodhouse, must you be gowg?but jnst come-so very obliging of you." Emma found it really time to be at home; ready lasted long; and on examining watches, so mu morning was perceived to be gone, that Mrs. Westo companion taking leave also, could allow themselves 01 walk with the two young ladies to Hartficld gates, bdu e set off for Rand ails. her now?" 'our sending us all your store apples. You said many, and now you have not one left. We I J>, s. Weston and Mr. Frank Churchill too Id· 0 many friends!" .' I than.k you. 1 could not stay two minutes. I to KIno .on as fast as I can." " "0' COL e in. They will be so very happy to sce you. " T • (, y ill room is full enough. I will call another day, and h :It 1 I,anofo e." . d • I ID so sorry !-Oh! Mr. Knightley, what a delightful par . lu