Chapter XV

“I dare say y our apologies were accepted, sir. Mr. Elton knows y ou.”

“Yes: but a y oung lady – a bride – I ought to have paid m y respects to her if possible. It was being very deficient.”

“But, m y dear papa, y ou are no friend to m atrim ony ; and therefore why should y ou be so anxious to pay y our respects to a bride? It ought to be no recom m endation to y ou. It is encouraging people to m arry if y ou m ake so m uch of them .”

“No, m y dear, I never encouraged any body to m arry, but I would alway s wish to pay every proper attention to a lady – and a bride, especially, is never to be neglected. More is avowedly due to her. A bride, y ou know, m y dear, is alway s the first in com pany, let the others be who they m ay.”

“Well, papa, if this is not encouragem ent to m arry, I do not know what is. And I should never have expected y ou to be lending y our sanction to such vanity -baits for poor y oung ladies.”

“My dear, y ou do not understand m e. This is a m atter of m ere

com m on politeness and good-breeding, and has nothing to do with any encouragem ent to people to m arry.”

Em m a had done. Her father was growing nervous, and could not understand her. Her m ind returned to Mrs. Elton’s offences, and long, very long, did they occupy her.

CHAPTER XV

Em m a was not required, by any subsequent discovery, to retract her ill opinion of Mrs. Elton. Her observation had been pretty correct. Such as Mrs.

Elton appeared to her on this second interview, such she appeared whenever they m et again, – self-im portant, presum ing, fam iliar, ignorant, and ill-bred. She had a little beauty and a little accom plishm ent, but so little j udgm ent that she thought herself com ing with superior knowledge of the world, to enliven and im prove a country neighbourhood; and conceived Miss Hawkins to have held such a place in society as Mrs. Elton’s consequence only could surpass.

There was no reason to suppose Mr. Elton thought at all differently from his wife. He seem ed not m erely happy with her, but proud. He had the air of congratulating him self on having brought such a wom an to Highbury, as not even Miss Woodhouse could equal; and the greater part of her new acquaintance, disposed to com m end, or not in the habit of j udging, following the lead of Miss Bates’s good-will, or taking it for granted that the bride m ust be as clever and as agreeable as she professed herself, were very well satisfied; so that Mrs. Elton’s praise passed from one m outh to another as it ought to do, unim peded by Miss Woodhouse, who readily continued her first contribution and talked with a good grace of her being “very pleasant and very elegantly dressed.”

In one respect Mrs. Elton grew even worse than she had appeared at first. Her feelings altered towards Em m a. – Offended, probably, by the little encouragem ent which her proposals of intim acy m et with, she drew back in her turn and gradually becam e m uch m ore cold and distant; and though the effect was agreeable, the ill-will which produced it was necessarily increasing Em m a’s dislike. Her m anners, too – and Mr. Elton’s, were unpleasant towards Harriet.

They were sneering and negligent. Em m a hoped it m ust rapidly work Harriet’s cure; but the sensations which could prom pt such behaviour sunk them both very m uch. – It was not to be doubted that poor Harriet’s attachm ent had been an offering to conj ugal unreserve, and her own share in the story, under a colouring the least favourable to her and the m ost soothing to him , had in all likelihood been given also. She was, of course, the obj ect of their j oint dislike. – When they had nothing else to say, it m ust be alway s easy to begin abusing Miss Woodhouse; and the enm ity which they dared not shew in open disrespect to her, found a broader vent in contem ptuous treatm ent of Harriet.

Mrs. Elton took a great fancy to Jane Fairfax; and from the first. Not m erely when a state of warfare with one y oung lady m ight be supposed to recom m end the other, but from the very first; and she was not satisfied with expressing a natural and reasonable adm iration – but without solicitation, or plea,

or privilege, she m ust be wanting to assist and befriend her. – Before Em m a had forfeited her confidence, and about the third tim e of their m eeting, she heard all Mrs. Elton’s knight-errantry on the subj ect. –

“Jane Fairfax is absolutely charm ing, Miss Woodhouse. – I quite rave about Jane Fairfax. – A sweet, interesting creature. So m ild and lady like – and with such talents! – I assure y ou I think she has very extraordinary talents. I do not scruple to say that she play s extrem ely well. I know enough of m usic to speak decidedly on that point. Oh! she is absolutely charm ing! You will laugh at m y warm th – but, upon m y word, I talk of nothing but Jane Fairfax. – And her situation is so calculated to affect one! – Miss Woodhouse, we m ust exert ourselves and endeavour to do som ething for her. We m ust bring her forward.

Such talent as hers m ust not be suffered to rem ain unknown. – I dare say y ou have heard those charm ing lines of the poet,

‘Full m any a flower is born to blush unseen,

‘And waste its fragrance on the desert air.’

We m ust not allow them to be verified in sweet Jane Fairfax.”

“I cannot think there is any danger of it,” was Em m a’s calm answer –

“and when y ou are better acquainted with Miss Fairfax’s situation and understand what her hom e has been, with Colonel and Mrs. Cam pbell, I have no idea that y ou will suppose her talents can be unknown.”

“Oh! but dear Miss Woodhouse, she is now in such retirem ent, such obscurity, so thrown away. – Whatever advantages she m ay have enj oy ed with the Cam pbells are so palpably at an end! And I think she feels it. I am sure she does. She is very tim id and silent. One can see that she feels the want of encouragem ent. I like her the better for it. I m ust confess it is a recom m endation to m e. I am a great advocate for tim idity – and I am sure one does not often m eet with it. – But in those who are at all inferior, it is extrem ely prepossessing.

Oh! I assure y ou, Jane Fairfax is a very delightful character, and interests m e m ore than I can express.”

“You appear to feel a great deal – but I am not aware how y ou or any of Miss Fairfax’s acquaintance here, any of those who have known her longer than y ourself, can shew her any other attention than” –

“My dear Miss Woodhouse, a vast deal m ay be done by those who dare to act. You and I need not be afraid. If we set the exam ple, m any will follow it as far as they can; though all have not our situations. We have carriages to fetch and convey her hom e, and we live in a sty le which could not m ake the addition of Jane Fairfax, at any tim e, the least inconvenient. – I should be extrem ely

displeased if Wright were to send us up such a dinner, as could m ake m e regret having asked m ore than Jane Fairfax to partake of it. I have no idea of that sort of thing. It is not likely that I should, considering what I have been used to. My greatest danger, perhaps, in housekeeping, m ay be quite the other way, in doing too m uch, and being too careless of expense. Maple Grove will probably be m y m odel m ore than it ought to be – for we do not at all affect to equal m y brother, Mr. Suckling, in incom e. – However, m y resolution is taken as to noticing Jane Fairfax. – I shall certainly have her very often at m y house, shall introduce her wherever I can, shall have m usical parties to draw out her talents, and shall be constantly on the watch for an eligible situation. My acquaintance is so very extensive, that I have little doubt of hearing of som ething to suit her shortly. – I shall introduce her, of course, very particularly to m y brother and sister when they com e to us. I am sure they will like her extrem ely ; and when she gets a little acquainted with them , her fears will com pletely wear off, for there really is nothing in the m anners of either but what is highly conciliating. – I shall have her very often indeed while they are with m e, and I dare say we shall som etim es find a seat for her in the barouche-landau in som e of our exploring parties.”

“Poor Jane Fairfax!” – thought Em m a. – “You have not deserved this.

You m ay have done wrong with regard to Mr. Dixon, but this is a punishm ent bey ond what y ou can have m erited! – The kindness and protection of Mrs. Elton!

– ‘Jane Fairfax and Jane Fairfax.’ Heavens! Let m e not suppose that she dares go about, Em m a Woodhouse-ing m e! – But upon m y honour, there seem s no lim its to the licentiousness of that wom an’s tongue!”

Em m a had not to listen to such paradings again – to any so exclusively addressed to herself – so disgustingly decorated with a “dear Miss Woodhouse.”

The change on Mrs. Elton’s side soon afterwards appeared, and she was left in peace – neither forced to be the very particular friend of Mrs. Elton, nor, under Mrs. Elton’s guidance, the very active patroness of Jane Fairfax, and only sharing with others in a general way, in knowing what was felt, what was m editated, what was done.

She looked on with som e am usem ent. – Miss Bates’s gratitude for Mrs.

Elton’s attentions to Jane was in the first sty le of guileless sim plicity and warm th.

She was quite one of her worthies – the m ost am iable, affable, delightful wom an

– j ust as accom plished and condescending as Mrs. Elton m eant to be considered.

Em m a’s only surprize was that Jane Fairfax should accept those attentions and tolerate Mrs. Elton as she seem ed to do. She heard of her walking with the Eltons, sitting with the Eltons, spending a day with the Eltons! This was astonishing! – She could not have believed it possible that the taste or the pride of Miss Fairfax could endure such society and friendship as the Vicarage had to offer.

“She is a riddle, quite a riddle!” said she. – “To chuse to rem ain here m onth after m onth, under privations of every sort! And now to chuse the m ortification of Mrs. Elton’s notice and the penury of her conversation, rather than return to the superior com panions who have alway s loved her with such real, generous affection.”

Jane had com e to Highbury professedly for three m onths; the Cam pbells were gone to Ireland for three m onths; but now the Cam pbells had prom ised their daughter to stay at least till Midsum m er, and fresh invitations had arrived for her to j oin them there. According to Miss Bates – it all cam e from her

– Mrs. Dixon had written m ost pressingly. Would Jane but go, m eans were to be found, servants sent, friends contrived – no travelling difficulty allowed to exist; but still she had declined it!

“She m ust have som e m otive, m ore powerful than appears, for refusing this invitation,” was Em m a’s conclusion. “She m ust be under som e sort of penance, inflicted either by the Cam pbells or herself. There is great fear, great caution, great resolution som ewhere. – She is not to be with the Dixons. The decree is issued by som ebody. But why m ust she consent to be with the Eltons? –

Here is quite a separate puzzle.”

Upon her speaking her wonder aloud on that part of the subj ect, before the few who knew her opinion of Mrs. Elton, Mrs. Weston ventured this apology for Jane.

“We cannot suppose that she has any great enj oy m ent at the Vicarage, m y dear Em m a – but it is better than being alway s at hom e. Her aunt is a good creature, but, as a constant com panion, m ust be very tiresom e. We m ust consider what Miss Fairfax quits, before we condem n her taste for what she goes to.”

“You are right, Mrs. Weston,” said Mr. Knightley warm ly, “Miss Fairfax is as capable as any of us of form ing a j ust opinion of Mrs. Elton. Could she have chosen with whom to associate, she would not have chosen her. But (with a reproachful sm ile at Em m a) she receives attentions from Mrs. Elton, which nobody else pay s her.”

Em m a felt that Mrs. Weston was giving her a m om entary glance; and she was herself struck by his warm th. With a faint blush, she presently replied,

“Such attentions as Mrs. Elton’s, I should have im agined, would rather disgust than gratify Miss Fairfax. Mrs. Elton’s invitations I should have im agined any thing but inviting.”

“I should not wonder,” said Mrs. Weston, “if Miss Fairfax were to have been drawn on bey ond her own inclination, by her aunt’s eagerness in accepting

Mrs. Elton’s civilities for her. Poor Miss Bates m ay very likely have com m itted her niece and hurried her into a greater appearance of intim acy than her own good sense would have dictated, in spite of the very natural wish of a little change.”

Both felt rather anxious to hear him speak again; and after a few m inutes silence, he said, “Another thing m ust be taken into consideration too – Mrs. Elton does not talk to Miss Fairfax as she speaks of her. We all know the difference between the pronouns he or she and thou, the plainest spoken am ongst us; we all feel the influence of a som ething bey ond com m on civility in our personal intercourse with each other – a som ething m ore early im planted. We cannot give any body the disagreeable hints that we m ay have been very full of the hour before. We feel things differently. And besides the operation of this, as a general principle, y ou m ay be sure that Miss Fairfax awes Mrs. Elton by her superiority both of m ind and m anner; and that, face to face, Mrs. Elton treats her with all the respect which she has a claim to. Such a wom an as Jane Fairfax probably never fell in Mrs. Elton’s way before – and no degree of vanity can prevent her acknowledging her own com parative littleness in action, if not in consciousness.”

“I know how highly y ou think of Jane Fairfax,” said Em m a. Little Henry was in her thoughts, and a m ixture of alarm and delicacy m ade her irresolute what else to say.

“Yes,” he replied, “any body m ay know how highly I think of her.”

“And y et,” said Em m a, beginning hastily and with an arch look, but soon stopping – it was better, however, to know the worst at once – she hurried on

– “And y et, perhaps, y ou m ay hardly be aware y ourself how highly it is. The extent of y our adm iration m ay take y ou by surprize som e day or other.”

Mr. Knightley was hard at work upon the lower buttons of his thick leather gaiters, and either the exertion of getting them together, or som e other cause, brought the colour into his face, as he answered,

“Oh! are y ou there? – But y ou are m iserably behindhand. Mr. Cole gave m e a hint of it six weeks ago.”

He stopped. – Em m a felt her foot pressed by Mrs. Weston, and did not herself know what to think. In a m om ent he went on –

“That will never be, however, I can assure y ou. Miss Fairfax, I dare say, would not have m e if I were to ask her – and I am very sure I shall never ask her.”

Em m a returned her friend’s pressure with interest; and was pleased enough to exclaim ,

“You are not vain, Mr. Knightley. I will say that for y ou.”

He seem ed hardly to hear her; he was thoughtful – and in a m anner which shewed him not pleased, soon afterwards said,

“So y ou have been settling that I should m arry Jane Fairfax?”

“No indeed I have not. You have scolded m e too m uch for m atch-m aking, for m e to presum e to take such a liberty with y ou. What I said j ust now, m eant nothing. One say s those sort of things, of course, without any idea of a serious m eaning. Oh! no, upon m y word I have not the sm allest wish for y our m arry ing Jane Fairfax or Jane any body. You would not com e in and sit with us in this com fortable way, if y ou were m arried.”

Mr. Knightley was thoughtful again. The result of his reverie was, “No, Em m a, I do not think the extent of m y adm iration for her will ever take m e by surprize. – I never had a thought of her in that way, I assure y ou.” And soon afterwards, “Jane Fairfax is a very charm ing y oung wom an – but not even Jane Fairfax is perfect. She has a fault. She has not the open tem per which a m an would wish for in a wife.”

Em m a could not but rej oice to hear that she had a fault. “Well,” said she, “and y ou soon silenced Mr. Cole, I suppose?”

“Yes, very soon. He gave m e a quiet hint; I told him he was m istaken; he asked m y pardon and said no m ore. Cole does not want to be wiser or wittier than his neighbours.”

“In that respect how unlike dear Mrs. Elton, who wants to be wiser and wittier than all the world! I wonder how she speaks of the Coles – what she calls them ! How can she find any appellation for them , deep enough in fam iliar vulgarity ? She calls y ou, Knightley – what can she do for Mr. Cole? And so I am not to be surprized that Jane Fairfax accepts her civilities and consents to be with her. Mrs. Weston, y our argum ent weighs m ost with m e. I can m uch m ore readily enter into the tem ptation of getting away from Miss Bates, than I can believe in the trium ph of Miss Fairfax’s m ind over Mrs. Elton. I have no faith in Mrs. Elton’s acknowledging herself the inferior in thought, word, or deed; or in her being under any restraint bey ond her own scanty rule of good-breeding. I cannot im agine that she will not be continually insulting her visitor with praise, encouragem ent, and offers of service; that she will not be continually detailing her m agnificent intentions, from the procuring her a perm anent situation to the including her in those delightful exploring parties which are to take place in the barouche-landau.”

“Jane Fairfax has feeling,” said Mr. Knightley – “I do not accuse her of want of feeling. Her sensibilities, I suspect, are strong – and her tem per excellent in its power of forbearance, patience, self-control; but it wants openness. She is reserved, m ore reserved, I think, than she used to be – And I love an open tem per.

No – till Cole alluded to m y supposed attachm ent, it had never entered m y head.

I saw Jane Fairfax and conversed with her, with adm iration and pleasure alway s

– but with no thought bey ond.”

“Well, Mrs. Weston,” said Em m a trium phantly when he left them ,

“what do y ou say now to Mr. Knightley ’s m arry ing Jane Fairfax?”