Chapter XVIII

If Mr. Elton, on his return, m ade his own indifference as evident and indubitable as she could not doubt he would anxiously do, she could not im agine Harriet’s persisting to place her happiness in the sight or the recollection of him .

Their being fixed, so absolutely fixed, in the sam e place, was bad for each, for all three. Not one of them had the power of rem oval, or of effecting any m aterial change of society. They m ust encounter each other, and m ake the best of it.

Harriet was farther unfortunate in the tone of her com panions at Mrs.

Goddard’s; Mr. Elton being the adoration of all the teachers and great girls in the school; and it m ust be at Hartfield only that she could have any chance of hearing him spoken of with cooling m oderation or repellent truth. Where the wound had been given, there m ust the cure be found if any where; and Em m a felt that, till she saw her in the way of cure, there could be no true peace for herself.

CHAPTER XVIII

Mr. Frank Churchill did not com e. When the tim e proposed drew near, Mrs. Weston’s fears were j ustified in the arrival of a letter of excuse. For the present, he could not be spared, to his “very great m ortification and regret; but still he looked forward with the hope of com ing to Randalls at no distant period.”

Mrs. Weston was exceedingly disappointed – m uch m ore disappointed, in fact, than her husband, though her dependence on seeing the y oung m an had been so m uch m ore sober: but a sanguine tem per, though for ever expecting m ore good than occurs, does not alway s pay for its hopes by any proportionate depression. It soon flies over the present failure, and begins to hope again. For half an hour Mr. Weston was surprized and sorry ; but then he began to perceive that Frank’s com ing two or three m onths later would be a m uch better plan; better tim e of y ear; better weather; and that he would be able, without any doubt, to stay considerably longer with them than if he had com e sooner.

These feelings rapidly restored his com fort, while Mrs. Weston, of a m ore apprehensive disposition, foresaw nothing but a repetition of excuses and delay s; and after all her concern for what her husband was to suffer, suffered a great deal m ore herself.

Em m a was not at this tim e in a state of spirits to care really about Mr.

Frank Churchill’s not com ing, except as a disappointm ent at Randalls. The acquaintance at present had no charm for her. She wanted, rather, to be quiet, and out of tem ptation; but still, as it was desirable that she should appear, in general, like her usual self, she took care to express as m uch interest in the circum stance, and enter as warm ly into Mr. and Mrs. Weston’s disappointm ent, as m ight naturally belong to their friendship.

She was the first to announce it to Mr. Knightley ; and exclaim ed quite as m uch as was necessary, (or, being acting a part, perhaps rather m ore,) at the conduct of the Churchills, in keeping him away. She then proceeded to say a good deal m ore than she felt, of the advantage of such an addition to their confined society in Surry ; the pleasure of looking at som ebody new; the gala-day to Highbury entire, which the sight of him would have m ade; and ending with reflections on the Churchills again, found herself directly involved in a disagreem ent with Mr. Knightley ; and, to her great am usem ent, perceived that she was taking the other side of the question from her real opinion, and m aking use of Mrs. Weston’s argum ents against herself.

“The Churchills are very likely in fault,” said Mr. Knightley, coolly ; “but I dare say he m ight com e if he would.”

“I do not know why y ou should say so. He wishes exceedingly to com e; but his uncle and aunt will not spare him .”

“I cannot believe that he has not the power of com ing, if he m ade a point of it. It is too unlikely, for m e to believe it without proof.”

“How odd y ou are! What has Mr. Frank Churchill done, to m ake y ou suppose him such an unnatural creature?”

“I am not supposing him at all an unnatural creature, in suspecting that he m ay have learnt to be above his connexions, and to care very little for any thing but his own pleasure, from living with those who have alway s set him the exam ple of it. It is a great deal m ore natural than one could wish, that a y oung m an, brought up by those who are proud, luxurious, and selfish, should be proud, luxurious, and selfish too. If Frank Churchill had wanted to see his father, he would have contrived it between Septem ber and January. A m an at his age – what is he? – three or four-and-twenty – cannot be without the m eans of doing as m uch as that. It is im possible.”

“That’s easily said, and easily felt by y ou, who have alway s been y our own m aster. You are the worst j udge in the world, Mr. Knightley, of the difficulties of dependence. You do not know what it is to have tem pers to m anage.”

“It is not to be conceived that a m an of three or four-and-twenty should not have liberty of m ind or lim b to that am ount. He cannot want m oney – he cannot want leisure. We know, on the contrary, that he has so m uch of both, that he is glad to get rid of them at the idlest haunts in the kingdom . We hear of him for ever at som e watering-place or other. A little while ago, he was at Wey m outh.

This proves that he can leave the Churchills.”

“Yes, som etim es he can.”

“And those tim es are whenever he thinks it worth his while; whenever there is any tem ptation of pleasure.”

“It is very unfair to j udge of any body ’s conduct, without an intim ate knowledge of their situation. Nobody, who has not been in the interior of a fam ily, can say what the difficulties of any individual of that fam ily m ay be. We ought to be acquainted with Enscom be, and with Mrs. Churchill’s tem per, before we pretend to decide upon what her nephew can do. He m ay, at tim es, be able to do a great deal m ore than he can at others.”

“There is one thing, Em m a, which a m an can alway s do, if he chuses, and that is, his duty ; not by m anoeuvring and finessing, but by vigour and

resolution. It is Frank Churchill’s duty to pay this attention to his father. He knows it to be so, by his prom ises and m essages; but if he wished to do it, it m ight be done.

A m an who felt rightly would say at once, sim ply and resolutely, to Mrs.

Churchill – ‘Every sacrifice of m ere pleasure y ou will alway s find m e ready to m ake to y our convenience; but I m ust go and see m y father im m ediately. I know he would be hurt by m y failing in such a m ark of respect to him on the present occasion. I shall, therefore, set off to-m orrow.’ – If he would say so to her at once, in the tone of decision becom ing a m an, there would be no opposition m ade to his going.”

“No,” said Em m a, laughing; “but perhaps there m ight be som e m ade to his com ing back again. Such language for a y oung m an entirely dependent, to use! – Nobody but y ou, Mr. Knightley, would im agine it possible. But y ou have not an idea of what is requisite in situations directly opposite to y our own. Mr.

Frank Churchill to be m aking such a speech as that to the uncle and aunt, who have brought him up, and are to provide for him ! – Standing up in the m iddle of the room , I suppose, and speaking as loud as he could! – How can y ou im agine such conduct practicable?”

“Depend upon it, Em m a, a sensible m an would find no difficulty in it.

He would feel him self in the right; and the declaration – m ade, of course, as a m an of sense would m ake it, in a proper m anner – would do him m ore good, raise him higher, fix his interest stronger with the people he depended on, than all that a line of shifts and expedients can ever do. Respect would be added to affection. They would feel that they could trust him ; that the nephew who had done rightly by his father, would do rightly by them ; for they know, as well as he does, as well as all the world m ust know, that he ought to pay this visit to his father; and while m eanly exerting their power to delay it, are in their hearts not thinking the better of him for subm itting to their whim s. Respect for right conduct is felt by every body. If he would act in this sort of m anner, on principle, consistently, regularly, their little m inds would bend to his.”

“I rather doubt that. You are very fond of bending little m inds; but where little m inds belong to rich people in authority, I think they have a knack of swelling out, till they are quite as unm anageable as great ones. I can im agine, that if y ou, as y ou are, Mr. Knightley, were to be transported and placed all at once in Mr. Frank Churchill’s situation, y ou would be able to say and do j ust what y ou have been recom m ending for him ; and it m ight have a very good effect. The Churchills m ight not have a word to say in return; but then, y ou would have no habits of early obedience and long observance to break through. To him who has, it m ight not be so easy to burst forth at once into perfect independence, and set all their claim s on his gratitude and regard at nought. He m ay have as strong a sense of what would be right, as y ou can have, without being so equal, under particular

circum stances, to act up to it.”

“Then it would not be so strong a sense. If it failed to produce equal exertion, it could not be an equal conviction.”

“Oh, the difference of situation and habit! I wish y ou would try to understand what an am iable y oung m an m ay be likely to feel in directly opposing those, whom as child and boy he has been looking up to all his life.”

“Our am iable y oung m an is a very weak y oung m an, if this be the first occasion of his carry ing through a resolution to do right against the will of others.

It ought to have been a habit with him by this tim e, of following his duty, instead of consulting expediency. I can allow for the fears of the child, but not of the m an. As he becam e rational, he ought to have roused him self and shaken off all that was unworthy in their authority. He ought to have opposed the first attem pt on their side to m ake him slight his father. Had he begun as he ought, there would have been no difficulty now.”

“We shall never agree about him ,” cried Em m a; “but that is nothing extraordinary. I have not the least idea of his being a weak y oung m an: I feel sure that he is not. Mr. Weston would not be blind to folly, though in his own son; but he is very likely to have a m ore y ielding, com ply ing, m ild disposition than would suit y our notions of m an’s perfection. I dare say he has; and though it m ay cut him off from som e advantages, it will secure him m any others.”

“Yes; all the advantages of sitting still when he ought to m ove, and of leading a life of m ere idle pleasure, and fancy ing him self extrem ely expert in finding excuses for it. He can sit down and write a fine flourishing letter, full of professions and falsehoods, and persuade him self that he has hit upon the very best m ethod in the world of preserving peace at hom e and preventing his father’s having any right to com plain. His letters disgust m e.”

“Your feelings are singular. They seem to satisfy every body else.”

“I suspect they do not satisfy Mrs. Weston. They hardly can satisfy a wom an of her good sense and quick feelings: standing in a m other’s place, but without a m other’s affection to blind her. It is on her account that attention to Randalls is doubly due, and she m ust doubly feel the om ission. Had she been a person of consequence herself, he would have com e I dare say ; and it would not have signified whether he did or no. Can y ou think y our friend behindhand in these sort of considerations? Do y ou suppose she does not often say all this to herself? No, Em m a, y our am iable y oung m an can be am iable only in French, not in English. He m ay be very ‘aim able,’ have very good m anners, and be very agreeable; but he can have no English delicacy towards the feelings of other

people: nothing really am iable about him .”

“You seem determ ined to think ill of him .”

“Me! – not at all,” replied Mr. Knightley, rather displeased; “I do not want to think ill of him . I should be as ready to acknowledge his m erits as any other m an; but I hear of none, except what are m erely personal; that he is well-grown and good-looking, with sm ooth, plausible m anners.”

“Well, if he have nothing else to recom m end him , he will be a treasure at Highbury. We do not often look upon fine y oung m en, well-bred and agreeable.

We m ust not be nice and ask for all the virtues into the bargain. Cannot y ou im agine, Mr. Knightley, what a sensation his com ing will produce? There will be but one subj ect throughout the parishes of Donwell and Highbury ; but one interest

– one obj ect of curiosity ; it will be all Mr. Frank Churchill; we shall think and speak of nobody else.”

“You will excuse m y being so m uch over-powered. If I find him conversable, I shall be glad of his acquaintance; but if he is only a chattering coxcom b, he will not occupy m uch of m y tim e or thoughts.”

“My idea of him is, that he can adapt his conversation to the taste of every body, and has the power as well as the wish of being universally agreeable.

To y ou, he will talk of farm ing; to m e, of drawing or m usic; and so on to every body, having that general inform ation on all subj ects which will enable him to follow the lead, or take the lead, j ust as propriety m ay require, and to speak extrem ely well on each; that is m y idea of him .”

“And m ine,” said Mr. Knightley warm ly, “is, that if he turn out any thing like it, he will be the m ost insufferable fellow breathing! What! at three-and-twenty to be the king of his com pany – the great m an – the practised politician, who is to read every body ’s character, and m ake every body ’s talents conduce to the display of his own superiority ; to be dispensing his flatteries around, that he m ay m ake all appear like fools com pared with him self! My dear Em m a, y our own good sense could not endure such a puppy when it cam e to the point.”

“I will say no m ore about him ,” cried Em m a, “y ou turn every thing to evil. We are both prej udiced; y ou against, I for him ; and we have no chance of agreeing till he is really here.”

“Prej udiced! I am not prej udiced.”

“But I am very m uch, and without being at all asham ed of it. My love for Mr. and Mrs. Weston gives m e a decided prej udice in his favour.”

“He is a person I never think of from one m onth’s end to another,” said

Mr. Knightley, with a degree of vexation, which m ade Em m a im m ediately talk of som ething else, though she could not com prehend why he should be angry.