Chapter VII

Mrs. Weston laughed, and said he did not know what he was talking about. Used only to a large house him self, and without ever thinking how m any advantages and accom m odations were attached to its size, he could be no j udge of the privations inevitably belonging to a sm all one. But Em m a, in her own m ind, determ ined that he did know what he was talking about, and that he shewed a very am iable inclination to settle early in life, and to m arry, from worthy m otives. He m ight not be aware of the inroads on dom estic peace to be occasioned by no housekeeper’s room , or a bad butler’s pantry, but no doubt he did perfectly feel that Enscom be could not m ake him happy, and that whenever he were attached, he would willingly give up m uch of wealth to be allowed an early establishm ent.

CHAPTER VII

Em m a’s very good opinion of Frank Churchill was a little shaken the following day, by hearing that he was gone off to London, m erely to have his hair cut. A sudden freak seem ed to have seized him at breakfast, and he had sent for a chaise and set off, intending to return to dinner, but with no m ore im portant view that appeared than having his hair cut. There was certainly no harm in his travelling sixteen m iles twice over on such an errand; but there was an air of foppery and nonsense in it which she could not approve. It did not accord with the rationality of plan, the m oderation in expense, or even the unselfish warm th of heart, which she had believed herself to discern in him y esterday. Vanity, extravagance, love of change, restlessness of tem per, which m ust be doing som ething, good or bad; heedlessness as to the pleasure of his father and Mrs.

Weston, indifferent as to how his conduct m ight appear in general; he becam e liable to all these charges. His father only called him a coxcom b, and thought it a very good story ; but that Mrs. Weston did not like it, was clear enough, by her passing it over as quickly as possible, and m aking no other com m ent than that “all y oung people would have their little whim s.”

With the exception of this little blot, Em m a found that his visit hitherto had given her friend only good ideas of him . Mrs. Weston was very ready to say how attentive and pleasant a com panion he m ade him self – how m uch she saw to like in his disposition altogether. He appeared to have a very open tem per –

certainly a very cheerful and lively one; she could observe nothing wrong in his notions, a great deal decidedly right; he spoke of his uncle with warm regard, was fond of talking of him – said he would be the best m an in the world if he were left to him self; and though there was no being attached to the aunt, he acknowledged her kindness with gratitude, and seem ed to m ean alway s to speak of her with respect. This was all very prom ising; and, but for such an unfortunate fancy for having his hair cut, there was nothing to denote him unworthy of the distinguished honour which her im agination had given him ; the honour, if not of being really in love with her, of being at least very near it, and saved only by her own indifference – (for still her resolution held of never m arry ing) – the honour, in short, of being m arked out for her by all their j oint acquaintance.

Mr. Weston, on his side, added a virtue to the account which m ust have som e weight. He gave her to understand that Frank adm ired her extrem ely –

thought her very beautiful and very charm ing; and with so m uch to be said for him altogether, she found she m ust not j udge him harshly. As Mrs. Weston observed, “all y oung people would have their little whim s.”

There was one person am ong his new acquaintance in Surry, not so

leniently disposed. In general he was j udged, throughout the parishes of Donwell and Highbury, with great candour; liberal allowances were m ade for the little excesses of such a handsom e y oung m an – one who sm iled so often and bowed so well; but there was one spirit am ong them not to be softened, from its power of censure, by bows or sm iles – Mr. Knightley. The circum stance was told him at Hartfield; for the m om ent, he was silent; but Em m a heard him alm ost im m ediately afterwards say to him self, over a newspaper he held in his hand, “Hum ! j ust the trifling, silly fellow I took him for.” She had half a m ind to resent; but an instant’s observation convinced her that it was really said only to relieve his own feelings, and not m eant to provoke; and therefore she let it pass.

Although in one instance the bearers of not good tidings, Mr. and Mrs.

Weston’s visit this m orning was in another respect particularly opportune.

Som ething occurred while they were at Hartfield, to m ake Em m a want their advice; and, which was still m ore lucky, she wanted exactly the advice they gave.

This was the occurrence: – The Coles had been settled som e y ears in Highbury, and were very good sort of people – friendly, liberal, and unpretending; but, on the other hand, they were of low origin, in trade, and only m oderately genteel. On their first com ing into the country, they had lived in proportion to their incom e, quietly, keeping little com pany, and that little unexpensively ; but the last y ear or two had brought them a considerable increase of m eans – the house in town had y ielded greater profits, and fortune in general had sm iled on them . With their wealth, their views increased; their want of a larger house, their inclination for m ore com pany. They added to their house, to their num ber of servants, to their expenses of every sort; and by this tim e were, in fortune and sty le of living, second only to the fam ily at Hartfield. Their love of society, and their new dining-room , prepared every body for their keeping dinner-com pany ; and a few parties, chiefly am ong the single m en, had already taken place. The regular and best fam ilies Em m a could hardly suppose they would presum e to invite – neither Donwell, nor Hartfield, nor Randalls. Nothing should tem pt her to go, if they did; and she regretted that her father’s known habits would be giving her refusal less m eaning than she could wish. The Coles were very respectable in their way, but they ought to be taught that it was not for them to arrange the term s on which the superior fam ilies would visit them . This lesson, she very m uch feared, they would receive only from herself; she had little hope of Mr. Knightley, none of Mr. Weston.

But she had m ade up her m ind how to m eet this presum ption so m any weeks before it appeared, that when the insult cam e at last, it found her very differently affected. Donwell and Randalls had received their invitation, and none had com e for her father and herself; and Mrs. Weston’s accounting for it with “I suppose they will not take the liberty with y ou; they know y ou do not dine out,”

was not quite sufficient. She felt that she should like to have had the power of refusal; and afterwards, as the idea of the party to be assem bled there, consisting precisely of those whose society was dearest to her, occurred again and again, she did not know that she m ight not have been tem pted to accept. Harriet was to be there in the evening, and the Bateses. They had been speaking of it as they walked about Highbury the day before, and Frank Churchill had m ost earnestly lam ented her absence. Might not the evening end in a dance? had been a question of his. The bare possibility of it acted as a farther irritation on her spirits; and her being left in solitary grandeur, even supposing the om ission to be intended as a com plim ent, was but poor com fort.

It was the arrival of this very invitation while the Westons were at Hartfield, which m ade their presence so acceptable; for though her first rem ark, on reading it, was that “of course it m ust be declined,” she so very soon proceeded to ask them what they advised her to do, that their advice for her going was m ost prom pt and successful.

She owned that, considering every thing, she was not absolutely without inclination for the party. The Coles expressed them selves so properly – there was so m uch real attention in the m anner of it – so m uch consideration for her father.

“They would have solicited the honour earlier, but had been waiting the arrival of a folding-screen from London, which they hoped m ight keep Mr. Woodhouse from any draught of air, and therefore induce him the m ore readily to give them the honour of his com pany.”

Upon the whole, she was very persuadable; and it being briefly settled am ong them selves how it m ight be done without neglecting his com fort – how certainly Mrs. Goddard, if not Mrs. Bates, m ight be depended on for bearing him com pany – Mr. Woodhouse was to be talked into an acquiescence of his daughter’s going out to dinner on a day now near at hand, and spending the whole evening away from him . As for his going, Em m a did not wish him to think it possible, the hours would be too late, and the party too num erous.

He was soon pretty well resigned.

“I am not fond of dinner-visiting,” said he – “I never was. No m ore is Em m a. Late hours do not agree with us. I am sorry Mr. and Mrs. Cole should have done it. I think it would be m uch better if they would com e in one afternoon next sum m er, and take their tea with us – take us in their afternoon walk; which they m ight do, as our hours are so reasonable, and y et get hom e without being out in the dam p of the evening. The dews of a sum m er evening are what I would not expose any body to. However, as they are so very desirous to have dear Em m a dine with them , and as y ou will both be there, and Mr. Knightley too, to take care of her, I cannot wish to prevent it, provided the weather be what it ought, neither dam p, nor cold, nor windy.” Then turning to Mrs. Weston, with a look of gentle reproach – “Ah! Miss Tay lor, if y ou had not m arried, y ou would have staid at

hom e with m e.”

“Well, sir,” cried Mr. Weston, “as I took Miss Tay lor away, it is incum bent on m e to supply her place, if I can; and I will step to Mrs. Goddard in a m om ent, if y ou wish it.”

But the idea of any thing to be done in a m om ent, was increasing, not lessening, Mr. Woodhouse’s agitation. The ladies knew better how to allay it. Mr.

Weston m ust be quiet, and every thing deliberately arranged.

With this treatm ent, Mr. Woodhouse was soon com posed enough for talking as usual. “He should be happy to see Mrs. Goddard. He had a great regard for Mrs. Goddard; and Em m a should write a line, and invite her. Jam es could take the note. But first of all, there m ust be an answer written to Mrs. Cole.”

“You will m ake m y excuses, m y dear, as civilly as possible. You will say that I am quite an invalid, and go no where, and therefore m ust decline their obliging invitation; beginning with m y com plim ents, of course. But y ou will do every thing right. I need not tell y ou what is to be done. We m ust rem em ber to let Jam es know that the carriage will be wanted on Tuesday. I shall have no fears for y ou with him . We have never been there above once since the new approach was m ade; but still I have no doubt that Jam es will take y ou very safely. And when y ou get there, y ou m ust tell him at what tim e y ou would have him com e for y ou again; and y ou had better nam e an early hour. You will not like stay ing late. You will get very tired when tea is over.”

“But y ou would not wish m e to com e away before I am tired, papa?”

“Oh! no, m y love; but y ou will soon be tired. There will be a great m any people talking at once. You will not like the noise.”

“But, m y dear sir,” cried Mr. Weston, “if Em m a com es away early, it will be breaking up the party.”

“And no great harm if it does,” said Mr. Woodhouse. “The sooner every party breaks up, the better.”

“But y ou do not consider how it m ay appear to the Coles. Em m a’s going away directly after tea m ight be giving offence. They are good-natured people, and think little of their own claim s; but still they m ust feel that any body ’s hurry ing away is no great com plim ent; and Miss Woodhouse’s doing it would be m ore thought of than any other person’s in the room . You would not wish to disappoint and m ortify the Coles, I am sure, sir; friendly, good sort of people as ever lived, and who have been y our neighbours these ten y ears.”