Chapter IV

Goddard’s; and a twelvem onth m ight pass without their being thrown together again, with any necessity, or even any power of speech.

CHAPTER IV

Hum an nature is so well disposed towards those who are in interesting situations, that a y oung person, who either m arries or dies, is sure of being kindly spoken of.

A week had not passed since Miss Hawkins’s nam e was first m entioned in Highbury, before she was, by som e m eans or other, discovered to have every recom m endation of person and m ind; to be handsom e, elegant, highly accom plished, and perfectly am iable: and when Mr. Elton him self arrived to trium ph in his happy prospects, and circulate the fam e of her m erits, there was very little m ore for him to do, than to tell her Christian nam e, and say whose m usic she principally play ed.

Mr. Elton returned, a very happy m an. He had gone away rej ected and m ortified – disappointed in a very sanguine hope, after a series of what appeared to him strong encouragem ent; and not only losing the right lady, but finding him self debased to the level of a very wrong one. He had gone away deeply offended – he cam e back engaged to another – and to another as superior, of course, to the first, as under such circum stances what is gained alway s is to what is lost. He cam e back gay and self-satisfied, eager and busy, caring nothing for Miss Woodhouse, and defy ing Miss Sm ith.

The charm ing Augusta Hawkins, in addition to all the usual advantages of perfect beauty and m erit, was in possession of an independent fortune, of so m any thousands as would alway s be called ten; a point of som e dignity, as well as som e convenience: the story told well; he had not thrown him self away – he had gained a wom an of 10,000 l. or thereabouts; and he had gained her with such delightful rapidity – the first hour of introduction had been so very soon followed by distinguishing notice; the history which he had to give Mrs. Cole of the rise and progress of the affair was so glorious – the steps so quick, from the accidental rencontre, to the dinner at Mr. Green’s, and the party at Mrs. Brown’s – sm iles and blushes rising in im portance – with consciousness and agitation richly scattered –

the lady had been so easily im pressed – so sweetly disposed – had in short, to use a m ost intelligible phrase, been so very ready to have him , that vanity and prudence were equally contented.

He had caught both substance and shadow – both fortune and affection, and was j ust the happy m an he ought to be; talking only of him self and his own concerns – expecting to be congratulated – ready to be laughed at – and, with cordial, fearless sm iles, now addressing all the y oung ladies of the place, to whom , a few weeks ago, he would have been m ore cautiously gallant.

The wedding was no distant event, as the parties had only them selves to please, and nothing but the necessary preparations to wait for; and when he set out for Bath again, there was a general expectation, which a certain glance of Mrs. Cole’s did not seem to contradict, that when he next entered Highbury he would bring his bride.

During his present short stay, Em m a had barely seen him ; but j ust enough to feel that the first m eeting was over, and to give her the im pression of his not being im proved by the m ixture of pique and pretension, now spread over his air. She was, in fact, beginning very m uch to wonder that she had ever thought him pleasing at all; and his sight was so inseparably connected with som e very disagreeable feelings, that, except in a m oral light, as a penance, a lesson, a source of profitable hum iliation to her own m ind, she would have been thankful to be assured of never seeing him again. She wished him very well; but he gave her pain, and his welfare twenty m iles off would adm inister m ost satisfaction.

The pain of his continued residence in Highbury, however, m ust certainly be lessened by his m arriage. Many vain solicitudes would be prevented

– m any awkwardnesses sm oothed by it. A Mrs. Elton would be an excuse for any change of intercourse; form er intim acy m ight sink without rem ark. It would be alm ost beginning their life of civility again.

Of the lady, individually, Em m a thought very little. She was good enough for Mr. Elton, no doubt; accom plished enough for Highbury – handsom e enough – to look plain, probably, by Harriet’s side. As to connexion, there Em m a was perfectly easy ; persuaded, that after all his own vaunted claim s and disdain of Harriet, he had done nothing. On that article, truth seem ed attainable. What she was, m ust be uncertain; but who she was, m ight be found out; and setting aside the 10,000 l., it did not appear that she was at all Harriet’s superior. She brought no nam e, no blood, no alliance. Miss Hawkins was the y oungest of the two daughters of a Bristol – m erchant, of course, he m ust be called; but, as the whole of the profits of his m ercantile life appeared so very m oderate, it was not unfair to guess the dignity of his line of trade had been very m oderate also. Part of every winter she had been used to spend in Bath; but Bristol was her hom e, the very heart of Bristol; for though the father and m other had died som e y ears ago, an uncle rem ained – in the law line – nothing m ore distinctly honourable was hazarded of him , than that he was in the law line; and with him the daughter had lived. Em m a guessed him to be the drudge of som e attorney, and too stupid to rise. And all the grandeur of the connexion seem ed dependent on the elder sister, who was very well m arried, to a gentlem an in a great way, near Bristol, who kept two carriages! That was the wind-up of the history ; that was the glory of Miss Hawkins.

Could she but have given Harriet her feelings about it all! She had talked her into love; but, alas! she was not so easily to be talked out of it. The charm of an obj ect to occupy the m any vacancies of Harriet’s m ind was not to be talked away. He m ight be superseded by another; he certainly would indeed; nothing could be clearer; even a Robert Martin would have been sufficient; but nothing else, she feared, would cure her. Harriet was one of those, who, having once begun, would be alway s in love. And now, poor girl! she was considerably worse from this reappearance of Mr. Elton. She was alway s having a glim pse of him som ewhere or other. Em m a saw him only once; but two or three tim es every day Harriet was sure j ust to m eet with him , or j ust to m iss him , j ust to hear his voice, or see his shoulder, j ust to have som ething occur to preserve him in her fancy, in all the favouring warm th of surprize and conj ecture. She was, m oreover, perpetually hearing about him ; for, excepting when at Hartfield, she was alway s am ong those who saw no fault in Mr. Elton, and found nothing so interesting as the discussion of his concerns; and every report, therefore, every guess – all that had already occurred, all that m ight occur in the arrangem ent of his affairs, com prehending incom e, servants, and furniture, was continually in agitation around her. Her regard was receiving strength by invariable praise of him , and her regrets kept alive, and feelings irritated by ceaseless repetitions of Miss Hawkins’s happiness, and continual observation of, how m uch he seem ed attached! – his air as he walked by the house – the very sitting of his hat, being all in proof of how m uch he was in love!

Had it been allowable entertainm ent, had there been no pain to her friend, or reproach to herself, in the waverings of Harriet’s m ind, Em m a would have been am used by its variations. Som etim es Mr. Elton predom inated, som etim es the Martins; and each was occasionally useful as a check to the other.

Mr. Elton’s engagem ent had been the cure of the agitation of m eeting Mr. Martin.

The unhappiness produced by the knowledge of that engagem ent had been a little put aside by Elizabeth Martin’s calling at Mrs. Goddard’s a few day s afterwards.

Harriet had not been at hom e; but a note had been prepared and left for her, written in the very sty le to touch; a sm all m ixture of reproach, with a great deal of kindness; and till Mr. Elton him self appeared, she had been m uch occupied by it, continually pondering over what could be done in return, and wishing to do m ore than she dared to confess. But Mr. Elton, in person, had driven away all such cares. While he staid, the Martins were forgotten; and on the very m orning of his setting off for Bath again, Em m a, to dissipate som e of the distress it occasioned, j udged it best for her to return Elizabeth Martin’s visit.