Chapter IX

Mr. Knightley m ight quarrel with her, but Em m a could not quarrel with herself. He was so m uch displeased, that it was longer than usual before he cam e to Hartfield again; and when they did m eet, his grave looks shewed that she was not forgiven. She was sorry, but could not repent. On the contrary, her plans and proceedings were m ore and m ore j ustified and endeared to her by the general appearances of the next few day s.

The Picture, elegantly fram ed, cam e safely to hand soon after Mr.

Elton’s return, and being hung over the m antelpiece of the com m on sitting-room , he got up to look at it, and sighed out his half sentences of adm iration j ust as he ought; and as for Harriet’s feelings, they were visibly form ing them selves into as strong and steady an attachm ent as her y outh and sort of m ind adm itted. Em m a was soon perfectly satisfied of Mr. Martin’s being no otherwise rem em bered, than as he furnished a contrast with Mr. Elton, of the utm ost advantage to the latter.

Her views of im proving her little friend’s m ind, by a great deal of useful reading and conversation, had never y et led to m ore than a few first chapters, and the intention of going on to-m orrow. It was m uch easier to chat than to study ; m uch pleasanter to let her im agination range and work at Harriet’s fortune, than to be labouring to enlarge her com prehension or exercise it on sober facts; and the only literary pursuit which engaged Harriet at present, the only m ental provision she was m aking for the evening of life, was the collecting and transcribing all the riddles of every sort that she could m eet with, into a thin quarto of hot-pressed paper, m ade up by her friend, and ornam ented with ciphers and trophies.

In this age of literature, such collections on a very grand scale are not uncom m on. Miss Nash, head-teacher at Mrs. Goddard’s, had written out at least three hundred; and Harriet, who had taken the first hint of it from her, hoped, with Miss Woodhouse’s help, to get a great m any m ore. Em m a assisted with her invention, m em ory and taste; and as Harriet wrote a very pretty hand, it was likely to be an arrangem ent of the first order, in form as well as quantity.

Mr. Woodhouse was alm ost as m uch interested in the business as the girls, and tried very often to recollect som ething worth their putting in. “So m any clever riddles as there used to be when he was y oung – he wondered he could not rem em ber them ! but he hoped he should in tim e.” And it alway s ended in “Kitty, a fair but frozen m aid.”

His good friend Perry, too, whom he had spoken to on the subj ect, did not at present recollect any thing of the riddle kind; but he had desired Perry to be upon the watch, and as he went about so m uch, som ething, he thought, m ight

com e from that quarter.

It was by no m eans his daughter’s wish that the intellects of Highbury in general should be put under requisition. Mr. Elton was the only one whose assistance she asked. He was invited to contribute any really good enigm as, charades, or conundrum s that he m ight recollect; and she had the pleasure of seeing him m ost intently at work with his recollections; and at the sam e tim e, as she could perceive, m ost earnestly careful that nothing ungallant, nothing that did not breathe a com plim ent to the sex should pass his lips. They owed to him their two or three politest puzzles; and the j oy and exultation with which at last he recalled, and rather sentim entally recited, that well-known charade, My first doth affliction denote,

Which my second is destin’d to feel

And my whole is the best antidote

That affliction to soften and heal. –

m ade her quite sorry to acknowledge that they had transcribed it som e pages ago already.

“Why will not y ou write one y ourself for us, Mr. Elton?” said she; “that is the only security for its freshness; and nothing could be easier to y ou.”

“Oh no! he had never written, hardly ever, any thing of the kind in his life. The stupidest fellow! He was afraid not even Miss Woodhouse” – he stopt a m om ent – “or Miss Sm ith could inspire him .”

The very next day however produced som e proof of inspiration. He called for a few m om ents, j ust to leave a piece of paper on the table containing, as he said, a charade, which a friend of his had addressed to a y oung lady, the obj ect of his adm iration, but which, from his m anner, Em m a was im m ediately convinced m ust be his own.

“I do not offer it for Miss Sm ith’s collection,” said he. “Being m y friend’s, I have no right to expose it in any degree to the public ey e, but perhaps y ou m ay not dislike looking at it.”

The speech was m ore to Em m a than to Harriet, which Em m a could understand. There was deep consciousness about him , and he found it easier to m eet her ey e than her friend’s. He was gone the next m om ent: – after another m om ent’s pause,

“Take it,” said Em m a, sm iling, and pushing the paper towards Harriet –

“it is for y ou. Take y our own.”

But Harriet was in a trem or, and could not touch it; and Em m a, never loth to be first, was obliged to exam ine it herself.

To Miss –

CHARADE.

My first displays the wealth and pomp of kings,

Lords of the earth! their luxury and ease.

Another view of man, my second brings,

Behold him there, the monarch of the seas!

But ah! united, what reverse we have!

Man’s boasted power and freedom, all are flown;

Lord of the earth and sea, he bends a slave,

And woman, lovely woman, reigns alone.

Thy ready wit the word will soon supply,

May its approval beam in that soft eye!

She cast her ey e over it, pondered, caught the m eaning, read it through again to be quite certain, and quite m istress of the lines, and then passing it to Harriet, sat happily sm iling, and say ing to herself, while Harriet was puzzling over the paper in all the confusion of hope and dulness, “Very well, Mr. Elton, very well indeed. I have read worse charades. Courtship – a very good hint. I give y ou credit for it. This is feeling y our way. This is say ing very plainly –

‘Pray, Miss Sm ith, give m e leave to pay m y addresses to y ou. Approve m y charade and m y intentions in the sam e glance.’

May its approval beam in that soft eye!

Harriet exactly. Soft is the very word for her ey e – of all epithets, the j ustest that could be given.

Thy ready wit the word will soon supply.

Hum ph – Harriet’s ready wit! All the better. A m an m ust be very m uch in love, indeed, to describe her so. Ah! Mr. Knightley, I wish y ou had the benefit of this; I think this would convince y ou. For once in y our life y ou would be obliged to own y ourself m istaken. An excellent charade indeed! and very m uch to the purpose. Things m ust com e to a crisis soon now.”

She was obliged to break off from these very pleasant observations, which were otherwise of a sort to run into great length, by the eagerness of Harriet’s wondering questions.

“What can it be, Miss Woodhouse? – what can it be? I have not an idea –

I cannot guess it in the least. What can it possibly be? Do try to find it out, Miss Woodhouse. Do help m e. I never saw any thing so hard. Is it kingdom ? I wonder who the friend was – and who could be the y oung lady. Do y ou think it is a good one? Can it be wom an?

And woman, lovely woman, reigns alone.

Can it be Neptune?

Behold him there, the monarch of the seas!

Or a trident? or a m erm aid? or a shark? Oh, no! shark is only one sy llable. It m ust be very clever, or he would not have brought it. Oh! Miss Woodhouse, do y ou think we shall ever find it out?”

“Merm aids and sharks! Nonsense! My dear Harriet, what are y ou thinking of? Where would be the use of his bringing us a charade m ade by a friend upon a m erm aid or a shark? Give m e the paper and listen.

For Miss – – – , read Miss Sm ith.

My first displays the wealth and pomp of kings, Lords of the earth! their luxury and ease.

That is court.

Another view of man, my second brings;

Behold him there, the monarch of the seas!

That is ship; – plain as it can be. – Now for the cream .

But ah! united, (courtship, you know,) what reverse we have!

Man’s boasted power and freedom, all are flown.

Lord of the earth and sea, he bends a slave,

And woman, lovely woman, reigns alone.

A very proper com plim ent! – and then follows the application, which I think, m y dear Harriet, y ou cannot find m uch difficulty in com prehending. Read it in com fort to y ourself. There can be no doubt of its being written for y ou and to y ou.”

Harriet could not long resist so delightful a persuasion. She read the concluding lines, and was all flutter and happiness. She could not speak. But she was not wanted to speak. It was enough for her to feel. Em m a spoke for her.

“There is so pointed, and so particular a m eaning in this com plim ent,”

said she, “that I cannot have a doubt as to Mr. Elton’s intentions. You are his obj ect

– and y ou will soon receive the com pletest proof of it. I thought it m ust be so. I thought I could not be so deceived; but now, it is clear; the state of his m ind is as clear and decided, as m y wishes on the subj ect have been ever since I knew y ou.

Yes, Harriet, j ust so long have I been wanting the very circum stance to happen what has happened. I could never tell whether an attachm ent between y ou and Mr. Elton were m ost desirable or m ost natural. Its probability and its eligibility have really so equalled each other! I am very happy. I congratulate y ou, m y dear Harriet, with all m y heart. This is an attachm ent which a wom an m ay well feel pride in creating. This is a connexion which offers nothing but good. It will give y ou every thing that y ou want – consideration, independence, a proper

hom e – it will fix y ou in the centre of all y our real friends, close to Hartfield and to m e, and confirm our intim acy for ever. This, Harriet, is an alliance which can never raise a blush in either of us.”

“Dear Miss Woodhouse!” – and “Dear Miss Woodhouse,” was all that Harriet, with m any tender em braces could articulate at first; but when they did arrive at som ething m ore like conversation, it was sufficiently clear to her friend that she saw, felt, anticipated, and rem em bered j ust as she ought. Mr. Elton’s superiority had very am ple acknowledgm ent.

“Whatever y ou say is alway s right,” cried Harriet, “and therefore I suppose, and believe, and hope it m ust be so; but otherwise I could not have im agined it. It is so m uch bey ond any thing I deserve. Mr. Elton, who m ight m arry any body ! There cannot be two opinions about him . He is so very superior. Only think of those sweet verses – ‘To Miss – – – .’ Dear m e, how clever!

– Could it really be m eant for m e?”

“I cannot m ake a question, or listen to a question about that. It is a certainty. Receive it on m y j udgm ent. It is a sort of prologue to the play, a m otto to the chapter; and will be soon followed by m atter-of-fact prose.”

“It is a sort of thing which nobody could have expected. I am sure, a m onth ago, I had no m ore idea m y self! – The strangest things do take place!”

“When Miss Sm iths and Mr. Eltons get acquainted – they do indeed –

and really it is strange; it is out of the com m on course that what is so evidently, so palpably desirable – what courts the pre-arrangem ent of other people, should so im m ediately shape itself into the proper form . You and Mr. Elton are by situation called together; y ou belong to one another by every circum stance of y our respective hom es. Your m arry ing will be equal to the m atch at Randalls. There does seem to be a som ething in the air of Hartfield which gives love exactly the right direction, and sends it into the very channel where it ought to flow.

The course of true love never did run smooth –

A Hartfield edition of Shakespeare would have a long note on that passage.”

“That Mr. Elton should really be in love with m e, – m e, of all people, who did not know him , to speak to him , at Michaelm as! And he, the very handsom est m an that ever was, and a m an that every body looks up to, quite like Mr. Knightley ! His com pany so sought after, that every body say s he need not

eat a single m eal by him self if he does not chuse it; that he has m ore invitations than there are day s in the week. And so excellent in the Church! Miss Nash has put down all the texts he has ever preached from since he cam e to Highbury.

Dear m e! When I look back to the first tim e I saw him ! How little did I think! –

The two Abbots and I ran into the front room and peeped through the blind when we heard he was going by, and Miss Nash cam e and scolded us away, and staid to look through herself; however, she called m e back presently, and let m e look too, which was very good-natured. And how beautiful we thought he looked! He was arm-in-arm with Mr. Cole.”

“This is an alliance which, whoever – whatever y our friends m ay be, m ust be agreeable to them , provided at least they have com m on sense; and we are not to be addressing our conduct to fools. If they are anxious to see y ou happily m arried, here is a m an whose am iable character gives every assurance of it; – if they wish to have y ou settled in the sam e country and circle which they have chosen to place y ou in, here it will be accom plished; and if their only obj ect is that y ou should, in the com m on phrase, be well m arried, here is the com fortable fortune, the respectable establishm ent, the rise in the world which m ust satisfy them .”

“Yes, very true. How nicely y ou talk; I love to hear y ou. You understand every thing. You and Mr. Elton are one as clever as the other. This charade! – If I had studied a twelvem onth, I could never have m ade any thing like it.”

“I thought he m eant to try his skill, by his m anner of declining it y esterday.”

“I do think it is, without exception, the best charade I ever read.”

“I never read one m ore to the purpose, certainly.”

“It is as long again as alm ost all we have had before.”

“I do not consider its length as particularly in its favour. Such things in general cannot be too short.”

Harriet was too intent on the lines to hear. The m ost satisfactory com parisons were rising in her m ind.

“It is one thing,” said she, presently – her cheeks in a glow – “to have very good sense in a com m on way, like every body else, and if there is any thing to say, to sit down and write a letter, and say j ust what y ou m ust, in a short way ; and another, to write verses and charades like this.”

Em m a could not have desired a m ore spirited rej ection of Mr. Martin’s

prose.

“Such sweet lines!” continued Harriet – “these two last! – But how shall I ever be able to return the paper, or say I have found it out? – Oh! Miss Woodhouse, what can we do about that?”

“Leave it to m e. You do nothing. He will be here this evening, I dare say, and then I will give it him back, and som e nonsense or other will pass between us, and y ou shall not be com m itted. – Your soft ey es shall chuse their own tim e for beam ing. Trust to m e.”

“Oh! Miss Woodhouse, what a pity that I m ust not write this beautiful charade into m y book! I am sure I have not got one half so good.”

“Leave out the two last lines, and there is no reason why y ou should not write it into y our book.”

“Oh! but those two lines are” –

– “The best of all. Granted; – for private enj oy m ent; and for private enj oy m ent keep them . They are not at all the less written y ou know, because y ou divide them . The couplet does not cease to be, nor does its m eaning change. But take it away, and all appropriation ceases, and a very pretty gallant charade rem ains, fit for any collection. Depend upon it, he would not like to have his charade slighted, m uch better than his passion. A poet in love m ust be encouraged in both capacities, or neither. Give m e the book, I will write it down, and then there can be no possible reflection on y ou.”

Harriet subm itted, though her m ind could hardly separate the parts, so as to feel quite sure that her friend were not writing down a declaration of love. It seem ed too precious an offering for any degree of publicity.

“I shall never let that book go out of m y own hands,” said she.

“Very well,” replied Em m a; “a m ost natural feeling; and the longer it lasts, the better I shall be pleased. But here is m y father com ing: y ou will not obj ect to m y reading the charade to him . It will be giving him so m uch pleasure!

He loves any thing of the sort, and especially any thing that pay s wom an a com plim ent. He has the tenderest spirit of gallantry towards us all! – You m ust let m e read it to him .”

Harriet looked grave.

“My dear Harriet, y ou m ust not refine too m uch upon this charade. –

You will betray y our feelings im properly, if y ou are too conscious and too quick, and appear to affix m ore m eaning, or even quite all the m eaning which m ay be

affixed to it. Do not be overpowered by such a little tribute of adm iration. If he had been anxious for secrecy, he would not have left the paper while I was by ; but he rather pushed it towards m e than towards y ou. Do not let us be too solem n on the business. He has encouragem ent enough to proceed, without our sighing out our souls over this charade.”

“Oh! no – I hope I shall not be ridiculous about it. Do as y ou please.”

Mr. Woodhouse cam e in, and very soon led to the subj ect again, by the recurrence of his very frequent inquiry of “Well, m y dears, how does y our book go on? – Have y ou got any thing fresh?”

“Yes, papa; we have som ething to read y ou, som ething quite fresh. A piece of paper was found on the table this m orning – (dropt, we suppose, by a fairy ) – containing a very pretty charade, and we have j ust copied it in.”

She read it to him , j ust as he liked to have any thing read, slowly and distinctly, and two or three tim es over, with explanations of every part as she proceeded – and he was very m uch pleased, and, as she had foreseen, especially struck with the com plim entary conclusion.

“Ay e, that’s very j ust, indeed, that’s very properly said. Very true.

‘Wom an, lovely wom an.’ It is such a pretty charade, m y dear, that I can easily guess what fairy brought it. – Nobody could have written so prettily, but y ou, Em m a.”

Em m a only nodded, and sm iled. – After a little thinking, and a very tender sigh, he added,

“Ah! it is no difficulty to see who y ou take after! Your dear m other was so clever at all those things! If I had but her m em ory ! But I can rem em ber nothing; – not even that particular riddle which y ou have heard m e m ention; I can only recollect the first stanza; and there are several.

Kitty, a fair but frozen maid,

Kindled a flame I yet deplore,

The hood-wink’d boy I called to aid,

Though of his near approach afraid,

So fatal to m y suit before.

And that is all that I can recollect of it – but it is very clever all the way

through. But I think, m y dear, y ou said y ou had got it.”

“Yes, papa, it is written out in our second page. We copied it from the Elegant Extracts. It was Garrick’s, y ou know.”

“Ay e, very true. – I wish I could recollect m ore of it.

Kitty, a fair but frozen maid.

The nam e m akes m e think of poor Isabella; for she was very near being christened Catherine after her grandm am a. I hope we shall have her here next week. Have y ou thought, m y dear, where y ou shall put her – and what room there will be for the children?”

“Oh! y es – she will have her own room , of course; the room she alway s has; – and there is the nursery for the children, – j ust as usual, y ou know.

Why should there be any change?”

“I do not know, m y dear – but it is so long since she was here! – not since last Easter, and then only for a few day s. – Mr. John Knightley ’s being a lawy er is very inconvenient. – Poor Isabella! – she is sadly taken away from us all! – and how sorry she will be when she com es, not to see Miss Tay lor here!”

“She will not be surprized, papa, at least.”

“I do not know, m y dear. I am sure I was very m uch surprized when I first heard she was going to be m arried.”

“We m ust ask Mr. and Mrs. Weston to dine with us, while Isabella is here.”

“Yes, m y dear, if there is tim e. – But – (in a very depressed tone) – she is com ing for only one week. There will not be tim e for any thing.”

“It is unfortunate that they cannot stay longer – but it seem s a case of necessity. Mr. John Knightley m ust be in town again on the 28th, and we ought to be thankful, papa, that we are to have the whole of the tim e they can give to the country, that two or three day s are not to be taken out for the Abbey. Mr.

Knightley prom ises to give up his claim this Christm as – though y ou know it is longer since they were with him , than with us.”

“It would be very hard, indeed, m y dear, if poor Isabella were to be any where but at Hartfield.”

Mr. Woodhouse could never allow for Mr. Knightley ’s claim s on his

brother, or any body ’s claim s on Isabella, except his own. He sat m using a little while, and then said,

“But I do not see why poor Isabella should be obliged to go back so soon, though he does. I think, Em m a, I shall try and persuade her to stay longer with us. She and the children m ight stay very well.”

“Ah! papa – that is what y ou never have been able to accom plish, and I do not think y ou ever will. Isabella cannot bear to stay behind her husband.”

This was too true for contradiction. Unwelcom e as it was, Mr.

Woodhouse could only give a subm issive sigh; and as Em m a saw his spirits affected by the idea of his daughter’s attachm ent to her husband, she im m ediately led to such a branch of the subj ect as m ust raise them .

“Harriet m ust give us as m uch of her com pany as she can while m y brother and sister are here. I am sure she will be pleased with the children. We are very proud of the children, are not we, papa? I wonder which she will think the handsom est, Henry or John?”

“Ay e, I wonder which she will. Poor little dears, how glad they will be to com e. They are very fond of being at Hartfield, Harriet.”

“I dare say they are, sir. I am sure I do not know who is not.”

“Henry is a fine boy, but John is very like his m am a. Henry is the eldest, he was nam ed after m e, not after his father. John, the second, is nam ed after his father. Som e people are surprized, I believe, that the eldest was not, but Isabella would have him called Henry, which I thought very pretty of her. And he is a very clever boy, indeed. They are all rem arkably clever; and they have so m any pretty way s. They will com e and stand by m y chair, and say, ‘Grandpapa, can y ou give m e a bit of string?’ and once Henry asked m e for a knife, but I told him knives were only m ade for grandpapas. I think their father is too rough with them very often.”

“He appears rough to y ou,” said Em m a, “because y ou are so very gentle y ourself; but if y ou could com pare him with other papas, y ou would not think him rough. He wishes his boy s to be active and hardy ; and if they m isbehave, can give them a sharp word now and then; but he is an affectionate father – certainly Mr. John Knightley is an affectionate father. The children are all fond of him .”

“And then their uncle com es in, and tosses them up to the ceiling in a very frightful way !”

“But they like it, papa; there is nothing they like so m uch. It is such

enj oy m ent to them , that if their uncle did not lay down the rule of their taking turns, whichever began would never give way to the other.”

“Well, I cannot understand it.”

“That is the case with us all, papa. One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other.”

Later in the m orning, and j ust as the girls were going to separate in preparation for the regular four o’clock dinner, the hero of this inim itable charade walked in again. Harriet turned away ; but Em m a could receive him with the usual sm ile, and her quick ey e soon discerned in his the consciousness of having m ade a push – of having thrown a die; and she im agined he was com e to see how it m ight turn up. His ostensible reason, however, was to ask whether Mr.

Woodhouse’s party could be m ade up in the evening without him , or whether he should be in the sm allest degree necessary at Hartfield. If he were, every thing else m ust give way ; but otherwise his friend Cole had been say ing so m uch about his dining with him – had m ade such a point of it, that he had prom ised him conditionally to com e.

Em m a thanked him , but could not allow of his disappointing his friend on their account; her father was sure of his rubber. He re-urged – she re-declined; and he seem ed then about to m ake his bow, when taking the paper from the table, she returned it –

“Oh! here is the charade y ou were so obliging as to leave with us; thank y ou for the sight of it. We adm ired it so m uch, that I have ventured to write it into Miss Sm ith’s collection. Your friend will not take it am iss I hope. Of course I have not transcribed bey ond the first eight lines.”

Mr. Elton certainly did not very well know what to say. He looked rather doubtingly – rather confused; said som ething about “honour,” – glanced at Em m a and at Harriet, and then seeing the book open on the table, took it up, and exam ined it very attentively. With the view of passing off an awkward m om ent, Em m a sm ilingly said,

“You m ust m ake m y apologies to y our friend; but so good a charade m ust not be confined to one or two. He m ay be sure of every wom an’s approbation while he writes with such gallantry.”

“I have no hesitation in say ing,” replied Mr. Elton, though hesitating a good deal while he spoke; “I have no hesitation in say ing – at least if m y friend feels at all as I do – I have not the sm allest doubt that, could he see his little effusion honoured as I see it, (looking at the book again, and replacing it on the table), he would consider it as the proudest m om ent of his life.”