Chapter XI

“Harriet, poor Harriet!” – Those were the words; in them lay the torm enting ideas which Em m a could not get rid of, and which constituted the real m isery of the business to her. Frank Churchill had behaved very ill by herself –

very ill in m any way s, – but it was not so m uch his behaviour as her own, which m ade her so angry with him . It was the scrape which he had drawn her into on Harriet’s account, that gave the deepest hue to his offence. – Poor Harriet! to be a second tim e the dupe of her m isconceptions and flattery. Mr. Knightley had spoken prophetically, when he once said, “Em m a, y ou have been no friend to Harriet Sm ith.” – She was afraid she had done her nothing but disservice. – It was true that she had not to charge herself, in this instance as in the form er, with being the sole and original author of the m ischief; with having suggested such feelings as m ight otherwise never have entered Harriet’s im agination; for Harriet had acknowledged her adm iration and preference of Frank Churchill before she had ever given her a hint on the subj ect; but she felt com pletely guilty of having encouraged what she m ight have repressed. She m ight have prevented the indulgence and increase of such sentim ents. Her influence would have been enough. And now she was very conscious that she ought to have prevented them .

– She felt that she had been risking her friend’s happiness on m ost insufficient grounds. Com m on sense would have directed her to tell Harriet, that she m ust not allow herself to think of him , and that there were five hundred chances to one against his ever caring for her. – “But, with com m on sense,” she added, “I am afraid I have had little to do.”

She was extrem ely angry with herself. If she could not have been angry with Frank Churchill too, it would have been dreadful. – As for Jane Fairfax, she m ight at least relieve her feelings from any present solicitude on her account. Harriet would be anxiety enough; she need no longer be unhappy about Jane, whose troubles and whose ill-health having, of course, the sam e origin, m ust be equally under cure. – Her day s of insignificance and evil were over. – She would soon be well, and happy, and prosperous. – Em m a could now im agine why her own attentions had been slighted. This discovery laid m any sm aller m atters open. No doubt it had been from j ealousy. – In Jane’s ey es she had been a rival; and well m ight any thing she could offer of assistance or regard be repulsed. An airing in the Hartfield carriage would have been the rack, and arrowroot from the Hartfield storeroom m ust have been poison. She understood it all; and as far as her m ind could disengage itself from the inj ustice and selfishness of angry feelings, she acknowledged that Jane Fairfax would have neither elevation nor happiness bey ond her desert. But poor Harriet was such an engrossing charge!

There was little sy m pathy to be spared for any body else. Em m a was sadly

fearful that this second disappointm ent would be m ore severe than the first.

Considering the very superior claim s of the obj ect, it ought; and j udging by its apparently stronger effect on Harriet’s m ind, producing reserve and self-com m and, it would. – She m ust com m unicate the painful truth, however, and as soon as possible. An inj unction of secresy had been am ong Mr. Weston’s parting words. “For the present, the whole affair was to be com pletely a secret. Mr.

Churchill had m ade a point of it, as a token of respect to the wife he had so very recently lost; and every body adm itted it to be no m ore than due decorum .” –

Em m a had prom ised; but still Harriet m ust be excepted. It was her superior duty.

In spite of her vexation, she could not help feeling it alm ost ridiculous, that she should have the very sam e distressing and delicate office to perform by Harriet, which Mrs. Weston had j ust gone through by herself. The intelligence, which had been so anxiously announced to her, she was now to be anxiously announcing to another. Her heart beat quick on hearing Harriet’s footstep and voice; so, she supposed, had poor Mrs. Weston felt when she was approaching Randalls. Could the event of the disclosure bear an equal resem blance! – But of that, unfortunately, there could be no chance.

“Well, Miss Woodhouse!” cried Harriet, com ing eagerly into the room

– “is not this the oddest news that ever was?”

“What news do y ou m ean?” replied Em m a, unable to guess, by look or voice, whether Harriet could indeed have received any hint.

“About Jane Fairfax. Did y ou ever hear any thing so strange? Oh! –

y ou need not be afraid of owning it to m e, for Mr. Weston has told m e him self. I m et him j ust now. He told m e it was to be a great secret; and, therefore, I should not think of m entioning it to any body but y ou, but he said y ou knew it.”

“What did Mr. Weston tell y ou?” – said Em m a, still perplexed.

“Oh! he told m e all about it; that Jane Fairfax and Mr. Frank Churchill are to be m arried, and that they have been privately engaged to one another this long while. How very odd!”

It was, indeed, so odd; Harriet’s behaviour was so extrem ely odd, that Em m a did not know how to understand it. Her character appeared absolutely changed. She seem ed to propose shewing no agitation, or disappointm ent, or peculiar concern in the discovery. Em m a looked at her, quite unable to speak.

“Had y ou any idea,” cried Harriet, “of his being in love with her? – You, perhaps, m ight. – You (blushing as she spoke) who can see into every body ’s heart; but nobody else – “

“Upon m y word,” said Em m a, “I begin to doubt m y having any such talent. Can y ou seriously ask m e, Harriet, whether I im agined him attached to another wom an at the very tim e that I was – tacitly, if not openly – encouraging y ou to give way to y our own feelings? – I never had the slightest suspicion, till within the last hour, of Mr. Frank Churchill’s having the least regard for Jane Fairfax. You m ay be very sure that if I had, I should have cautioned y ou accordingly.”

“Me!” cried Harriet, colouring, and astonished. “Why should y ou caution m e? – You do not think I care about Mr. Frank Churchill.”

“I am delighted to hear y ou speak so stoutly on the subj ect,” replied Em m a, sm iling; “but y ou do not m ean to deny that there was a tim e – and not very distant either – when y ou gave m e reason to understand that y ou did care about him ?”

“Him ! – never, never. Dear Miss Woodhouse, how could y ou so m istake m e?” turning away distressed.

“Harriet!” cried Em m a, after a m om ent’s pause – “What do y ou m ean? – Good Heaven! what do y ou m ean? – Mistake y ou! – Am I to suppose then? – “

She could not speak another word. – Her voice was lost; and she sat down, waiting in great terror till Harriet should answer.

Harriet, who was standing at som e distance, and with face turned from her, did not im m ediately say any thing; and when she did speak, it was in a voice nearly as agitated as Em m a’s.

“I should not have thought it possible,” she began, “that y ou could have m isunderstood m e! I know we agreed never to nam e him – but considering how infinitely superior he is to every body else, I should not have thought it possible that I could be supposed to m ean any other person. Mr. Frank Churchill, indeed! I do not know who would ever look at him in the com pany of the other. I hope I have a better taste than to think of Mr. Frank Churchill, who is like nobody by his side. And that y ou should have been so m istaken, is am azing! – I am sure, but for believing that y ou entirely approved and m eant to encourage m e in m y attachm ent, I should have considered it at first too great a presum ption alm ost, to dare to think of him . At first, if y ou had not told m e that m ore wonderful things had happened; that there had been m atches of greater disparity (those were y our very words); – I should not have dared to give way to – I should not have thought it possible – But if y ou, who had been alway s acquainted with him – “

“Harriet!” cried Em m a, collecting herself resolutely – “Let us

understand each other now, without the possibility of farther m istake. Are y ou speaking of – Mr. Knightley ?”

“To be sure I am . I never could have an idea of any body else – and so I thought y ou knew. When we talked about him , it was as clear as possible.”

“Not quite,” returned Em m a, with forced calm ness, “for all that y ou then said, appeared to m e to relate to a different person. I could alm ost assert that y ou had nam ed Mr. Frank Churchill. I am sure the service Mr. Frank Churchill had rendered y ou, in protecting y ou from the gipsies, was spoken of.”

“Oh! Miss Woodhouse, how y ou do forget!”

“My dear Harriet, I perfectly rem em ber the substance of what I said on the occasion. I told y ou that I did not wonder at y our attachm ent; that considering the service he had rendered y ou, it was extrem ely natural: – and y ou agreed to it, expressing y ourself very warm ly as to y our sense of that service, and m entioning even what y our sensations had been in seeing him com e forward to y our rescue. – The im pression of it is strong on m y m em ory.”

“Oh, dear,” cried Harriet, “now I recollect what y ou m ean; but I was thinking of som ething very different at the tim e. It was not the gipsies – it was not Mr. Frank Churchill that I m eant. No! (with som e elevation) I was thinking of a m uch m ore precious circum stance – of Mr. Knightley ’s com ing and asking m e to dance, when Mr. Elton would not stand up with m e; and when there was no other partner in the room . That was the kind action; that was the noble benevolence and generosity ; that was the service which m ade m e begin to feel how superior he was to every other being upon earth.”

“Good God!” cried Em m a, “this has been a m ost unfortunate – m ost deplorable m istake! – What is to be done?”

“You would not have encouraged m e, then, if y ou had understood m e?

At least, however, I cannot be worse off than I should have been, if the other had been the person; and now – it is possible – “

She paused a few m om ents. Em m a could not speak.

“I do not wonder, Miss Woodhouse,” she resum ed, “that y ou should feel a great difference between the two, as to m e or as to any body. You m ust think one five hundred m illion tim es m ore above m e than the other. But I hope, Miss Woodhouse, that supposing – that if – strange as it m ay appear – . But y ou know they were y our own words, that m ore wonderful things had happened, m atches of greater disparity had taken place than between Mr. Frank Churchill and m e; and, therefore, it seem s as if such a thing even as this, m ay have occurred before

– and if I should be so fortunate, bey ond expression, as to – if Mr. Knightley should really – if he does not m ind the disparity, I hope, dear Miss Woodhouse, y ou will not set y ourself against it, and try to put difficulties in the way. But y ou are too good for that, I am sure.”

Harriet was standing at one of the windows. Em m a turned round to look at her in consternation, and hastily said, “Have y ou any idea of Mr. Knightley ’s returning y our affection?”

“Yes,” replied Harriet m odestly, but not fearfully – “I m ust say that I have.”

Em m a’s ey es were instantly withdrawn; and she sat silently m editating, in a fixed attitude, for a few m inutes. A few m inutes were sufficient for m aking her acquainted with her own heart. A m ind like hers, once opening to suspicion, m ade rapid progress. She touched – she adm itted – she acknowledged the whole truth. Why was it so m uch worse that Harriet should be in love with Mr.

Knightley, than with Frank Churchill? Why was the evil so dreadfully increased by Harriet’s having som e hope of a return? It darted through her, with the speed of an arrow, that Mr. Knightley m ust m arry no one but herself!

Her own conduct, as well as her own heart, was before her in the sam e few m inutes. She saw it all with a clearness which had never blessed her before.

How im properly had she been acting by Harriet! How inconsiderate, how indelicate, how irrational, how unfeeling had been her conduct! What blindness, what m adness, had led her on! It struck her with dreadful force, and she was ready to give it every bad nam e in the world. Som e portion of respect for herself, however, in spite of all these dem erits – som e concern for her own appearance, and a strong sense of j ustice by Harriet – (there would be no need of com passion to the girl who believed herself loved by Mr. Knightley – but j ustice required that she should not be m ade unhappy by any coldness now,) gave Em m a the resolution to sit and endure farther with calm ness, with even apparent kindness. –

For her own advantage indeed, it was fit that the utm ost extent of Harriet’s hopes should be enquired into; and Harriet had done nothing to forfeit the regard and interest which had been so voluntarily form ed and m aintained – or to deserve to be slighted by the person, whose counsels had never led her right. – Rousing from reflection, therefore, and subduing her em otion, she turned to Harriet again, and, in a m ore inviting accent, renewed the conversation; for as to the subj ect which had first introduced it, the wonderful story of Jane Fairfax, that was quite sunk and lost. – Neither of them thought but of Mr. Knightley and them selves.

Harriet, who had been standing in no unhappy reverie, was y et very glad to be called from it, by the now encouraging m anner of such a j udge, and

such a friend as Miss Woodhouse, and only wanted invitation, to give the history of her hopes with great, though trem bling delight. – Em m a’s trem blings as she asked, and as she listened, were better concealed than Harriet’s, but they were not less. Her voice was not unsteady ; but her m ind was in all the perturbation that such a developm ent of self, such a burst of threatening evil, such a confusion of sudden and perplexing em otions, m ust create. – She listened with m uch inward suffering, but with great outward patience, to Harriet’s detail. – Methodical, or well arranged, or very well delivered, it could not be expected to be; but it contained, when separated from all the feebleness and tautology of the narration, a substance to sink her spirit – especially with the corroborating circum stances, which her own m em ory brought in favour of Mr. Knightley ’s m ost im proved opinion of Harriet.

Harriet had been conscious of a difference in his behaviour ever since those two decisive dances. – Em m a knew that he had, on that occasion, found her m uch superior to his expectation. From that evening, or at least from the tim e of Miss Woodhouse’s encouraging her to think of him , Harriet had begun to be sensible of his talking to her m uch m ore than he had been used to do, and of his having indeed quite a different m anner towards her; a m anner of kindness and sweetness! – Latterly she had been m ore and m ore aware of it. When they had been all walking together, he had so often com e and walked by her, and talked so very delightfully ! – He seem ed to want to be acquainted with her. Em m a knew it to have been very m uch the case. She had often observed the change, to alm ost the sam e extent. – Harriet repeated expressions of approbation and praise from him – and Em m a felt them to be in the closest agreem ent with what she had known of his opinion of Harriet. He praised her for being without art or affectation, for having sim ple, honest, generous, feelings. – She knew that he saw such recom m endations in Harriet; he had dwelt on them to her m ore than once. –

Much that lived in Harriet’s m em ory, m any little particulars of the notice she had received from him , a look, a speech, a rem oval from one chair to another, a com plim ent im plied, a preference inferred, had been unnoticed, because unsuspected, by Em m a. Circum stances that m ight swell to half an hour’s relation, and contained m ultiplied proofs to her who had seen them , had passed undiscerned by her who now heard them ; but the two latest occurrences to be m entioned, the two of strongest prom ise to Harriet, were not without som e degree of witness from Em m a herself. – The first, was his walking with her apart from the others, in the lim e-walk at Donwell, where they had been walking som e tim e before Em m a cam e, and he had taken pains (as she was convinced) to draw her from the rest to him self – and at first, he had talked to her in a m ore particular way than he had ever done before, in a very particular way indeed! – (Harriet could not recall it without a blush.) He seem ed to be alm ost asking her, whether her affections were engaged. – But as soon as she (Miss Woodhouse) appeared

likely to j oin them , he changed the subj ect, and began talking about farm ing: –

The second, was his having sat talking with her nearly half an hour before Em m a cam e back from her visit, the very last m orning of his being at Hartfield – though, when he first cam e in, he had said that he could not stay five m inutes – and his having told her, during their conversation, that though he m ust go to London, it was very m uch against his inclination that he left hom e at all, which was m uch m ore (as Em m a felt) than he had acknowledged to her. The superior degree of confidence towards Harriet, which this one article m arked, gave her severe pain.

On the subj ect of the first of the two circum stances, she did, after a little reflection, venture the following question. “Might he not? – Is not it possible, that when enquiring, as y ou thought, into the state of y our affections, he m ight be alluding to Mr. Martin – he m ight have Mr. Martin’s interest in view? But Harriet rej ected the suspicion with spirit.

“Mr. Martin! No indeed! – There was not a hint of Mr. Martin. I hope I know better now, than to care for Mr. Martin, or to be suspected of it.”

When Harriet had closed her evidence, she appealed to her dear Miss Woodhouse, to say whether she had not good ground for hope.

“I never should have presum ed to think of it at first,” said she, “but for y ou. You told m e to observe him carefully, and let his behaviour be the rule of m ine – and so I have. But now I seem to feel that I m ay deserve him ; and that if he does chuse m e, it will not be any thing so very wonderful.”

The bitter feelings occasioned by this speech, the m any bitter feelings, m ade the utm ost exertion necessary on Em m a’s side, to enable her to say on reply,

“Harriet, I will only venture to declare, that Mr. Knightley is the last m an in the world, who would intentionally give any wom an the idea of his feeling for her m ore than he really does.”

Harriet seem ed ready to worship her friend for a sentence so satisfactory ; and Em m a was only saved from raptures and fondness, which at that m om ent would have been dreadful penance, by the sound of her father’s footsteps. He was com ing through the hall. Harriet was too m uch agitated to encounter him . “She could not com pose herself – Mr. Woodhouse would be alarm ed – she had better go;” – with m ost ready encouragem ent from her friend, therefore, she passed off through another door – and the m om ent she was gone, this was the spontaneous burst of Em m a’s feelings: “Oh God! that I had never seen her!”

The rest of the day, the following night, were hardly enough for her

thoughts. – She was bewildered am idst the confusion of all that had rushed on her within the last few hours. Every m om ent had brought a fresh surprize; and every surprize m ust be m atter of hum iliation to her. – How to understand it all! How to understand the deceptions she had been thus practising on herself, and living under! – The blunders, the blindness of her own head and heart! – she sat still, she walked about, she tried her own room , she tried the shrubbery – in every place, every posture, she perceived that she had acted m ost weakly ; that she had been im posed on by others in a m ost m ortify ing degree; that she had been im posing on herself in a degree y et m ore m ortify ing; that she was wretched, and should probably find this day but the beginning of wretchedness.

To understand, thoroughly understand her own heart, was the first endeavour. To that point went every leisure m om ent which her father’s claim s on her allowed, and every m om ent of involuntary absence of m ind.

How long had Mr. Knightley been so dear to her, as every feeling declared him now to be? When had his influence, such influence begun? – When had he succeeded to that place in her affection, which Frank Churchill had once, for a short period, occupied? – She looked back; she com pared the two –

com pared them , as they had alway s stood in her estim ation, from the tim e of the latter’s becom ing known to her – and as they m ust at any tim e have been com pared by her, had it – oh! had it, by any blessed felicity, occurred to her, to institute the com parison. – She saw that there never had been a tim e when she did not consider Mr. Knightley as infinitely the superior, or when his regard for her had not been infinitely the m ost dear. She saw, that in persuading herself, in fancy ing, in acting to the contrary, she had been entirely under a delusion, totally ignorant of her own heart – and, in short, that she had never really cared for Frank Churchill at all!

This was the conclusion of the first series of reflection. This was the knowledge of herself, on the first question of inquiry, which she reached; and without being long in reaching it. – She was m ost sorrowfully indignant; asham ed of every sensation but the one revealed to her – her affection for Mr. Knightley. –

Every other part of her m ind was disgusting.

With insufferable vanity had she believed herself in the secret of every body ’s feelings; with unpardonable arrogance proposed to arrange every body ’s destiny. She was proved to have been universally m istaken; and she had not quite done nothing – for she had done m ischief. She had brought evil on Harriet, on herself, and she too m uch feared, on Mr. Knightley. – Were this m ost unequal of all connexions to take place, on her m ust rest all the reproach of having given it a beginning; for his attachm ent, she m ust believe to be produced only by a consciousness of Harriet’s; – and even were this not the case, he would never

have known Harriet at all but for her folly.

Mr. Knightley and Harriet Sm ith! – It was a union to distance every wonder of the kind. – The attachm ent of Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax becam e com m onplace, threadbare, stale in the com parison, exciting no surprize, presenting no disparity, affording nothing to be said or thought. – Mr. Knightley and Harriet Sm ith! – Such an elevation on her side! Such a debasem ent on his! It was horrible to Em m a to think how it m ust sink him in the general opinion, to foresee the sm iles, the sneers, the m errim ent it would prom pt at his expense; the m ortification and disdain of his brother, the thousand inconveniences to him self. –

Could it be? – No; it was im possible. And y et it was far, very far, from im possible. – Was it a new circum stance for a m an of first-rate abilities to be captivated by very inferior powers? Was it new for one, perhaps too busy to seek, to be the prize of a girl who would seek him ? – Was it new for any thing in this world to be unequal, inconsistent, incongruous – or for chance and circum stance (as second causes) to direct the hum an fate?