Chapter IV

som e com fort to him that m any inquiries after him self and Miss Woodhouse (for his neighbours knew that he loved to be inquired after), as well as Miss Sm ith, were com ing in during the rest of the day ; and he had the pleasure of returning for answer, that they were all very indifferent – which, though not exactly true, for she was perfectly well, and Harriet not m uch otherwise, Em m a would not interfere with. She had an unhappy state of health in general for the child of such a m an, for she hardly knew what indisposition was; and if he did not invent illnesses for her, she could m ake no figure in a m essage.

The gipsies did not wait for the operations of j ustice; they took them selves off in a hurry. The y oung ladies of Highbury m ight have walked again in safety before their panic began, and the whole history dwindled soon into a m atter of little im portance but to Em m a and her nephews: – in her im agination it m aintained its ground, and Henry and John were still asking every day for the story of Harriet and the gipsies, and still tenaciously setting her right if she varied in the slightest particular from the original recital.

CHAPTER IV

A very few day s had passed after this adventure, when Harriet cam e one m orning to Em m a with a sm all parcel in her hand, and after sitting down and hesitating, thus began:

“Miss Woodhouse – if y ou are at leisure – I have som ething that I should like to tell y ou – a sort of confession to m ake – and then, y ou know, it will be over.”

Em m a was a good deal surprized; but begged her to speak. There was a seriousness in Harriet’s m anner which prepared her, quite as m uch as her words, for som ething m ore than ordinary.

“It is m y duty, and I am sure it is m y wish,” she continued, “to have no reserves with y ou on this subj ect. As I am happily quite an altered creature in one respect, it is very fit that y ou should have the satisfaction of knowing it. I do not want to say m ore than is necessary – I am too m uch asham ed of having given way as I have done, and I dare say y ou understand m e.”

“Yes,” said Em m a, “I hope I do.”

“How I could so long a tim e be fancy ing m y self!...” cried Harriet, warm ly. “It seem s like m adness! I can see nothing at all extraordinary in him now. – I do not care whether I m eet him or not – except that of the two I had rather not see him – and indeed I would go any distance round to avoid him – but I do not envy his wife in the least; I neither adm ire her nor envy her, as I have done: she is very charm ing, I dare say, and all that, but I think her very ill-tem pered and disagreeable – I shall never forget her look the other night! –

However, I assure y ou, Miss Woodhouse, I wish her no evil. – No, let them be ever so happy together, it will not give m e another m om ent’s pang: and to convince y ou that I have been speaking truth, I am now going to destroy – what I ought to have destroy ed long ago – what I ought never to have kept – I know that very well (blushing as she spoke). – However, now I will destroy it all – and it is m y particular wish to do it in y our presence, that y ou m ay see how rational I am grown. Cannot y ou guess what this parcel holds?” said she, with a conscious look.

“Not the least in the world. – Did he ever give y ou any thing?”

“No – I cannot call them gifts; but they are things that I have valued very m uch.”

She held the parcel towards her, and Em m a read the words Most precious treasures on the top. Her curiosity was greatly excited. Harriet unfolded

the parcel, and she looked on with im patience. Within abundance of silver paper was a pretty little Tunbridge-ware box, which Harriet opened: it was well lined with the softest cotton; but, excepting the cotton, Em m a saw only a sm all piece of court-plaister.

“Now,” said Harriet, “y ou m ust recollect.”

“No, indeed I do not.”

“Dear m e! I should not have thought it possible y ou could forget what passed in this very room about court-plaister, one of the very last tim es we ever m et in it! – It was but a very few day s before I had m y sore throat – j ust before Mr. and Mrs. John Knightley cam e – I think the very evening. – Do not y ou rem em ber his cutting his finger with y our new penknife, and y our recom m ending court-plaister? – But, as y ou had none about y ou, and knew I had, y ou desired m e to supply him ; and so I took m ine out and cut him a piece; but it was a great deal too large, and he cut it sm aller, and kept play ing som e tim e with what was left, before he gave it back to m e. And so then, in m y nonsense, I could not help m aking a treasure of it – so I put it by never to be used, and looked at it now and then as a great treat.”

“My dearest Harriet!” cried Em m a, putting her hand before her face, and j um ping up, “y ou m ake m e m ore asham ed of m y self than I can bear.

Rem em ber it? Ay e, I rem em ber it all now; all, except y our saving this relic – I knew nothing of that till this m om ent – but the cutting the finger, and m y recom m ending court-plaister, and say ing I had none about m e! – Oh! m y sins, m y sins! – And I had plenty all the while in m y pocket! – One of m y senseless tricks! – I deserve to be under a continual blush all the rest of m y life. – Well –

(sitting down again) – go on – what else?”

“And had y ou really som e at hand y ourself? I am sure I never suspected it, y ou did it so naturally.”

“And so y ou actually put this piece of court-plaister by for his sake!” said Em m a, recovering from her state of sham e and feeling divided between wonder and am usem ent. And secretly she added to herself, “Lord bless m e!

when should I ever have thought of putting by in cotton a piece of court-plaister that Frank Churchill had been pulling about! I never was equal to this.”

“Here,” resum ed Harriet, turning to her box again, “here is som ething still m ore valuable, I m ean that has been m ore valuable, because this is what did really once belong to him , which the court-plaister never did.”

Em m a was quite eager to see this superior treasure. It was the end of an old pencil, – the part without any lead.

“This was really his,” said Harriet. – “Do not y ou rem em ber one m orning? – no, I dare say y ou do not. But one m orning – I forget exactly the day

– but perhaps it was the Tuesday or Wednesday before that evening, he wanted to m ake a m em orandum in his pocket-book; it was about spruce-beer. Mr. Knightley had been telling him som ething about brewing spruce-beer, and he wanted to put it down; but when he took out his pencil, there was so little lead that he soon cut it all away, and it would not do, so y ou lent him another, and this was left upon the table as good for nothing. But I kept m y ey e on it; and, as soon as I dared, caught it up, and never parted with it again from that m om ent.”

“I do rem em ber it,” cried Em m a; “I perfectly rem em ber it. – Talking about spruce-beer. – Oh! y es – Mr. Knightley and I both say ing we liked it, and Mr. Elton’s seem ing resolved to learn to like it too. I perfectly rem em ber it. – Stop; Mr. Knightley was standing j ust here, was not he? I have an idea he was standing j ust here.”

“Ah! I do not know. I cannot recollect. – It is very odd, but I cannot recollect. – Mr. Elton was sitting here, I rem em ber, m uch about where I am now.” –

“Well, go on.”

“Oh! that’s all. I have nothing m ore to shew y ou, or to say – except that I am now going to throw them both behind the fire, and I wish y ou to see m e do it.”

“My poor dear Harriet! and have y ou actually found happiness in treasuring up these things?”

“Yes, sim pleton as I was! – but I am quite asham ed of it now, and wish I could forget as easily as I can burn them . It was very wrong of m e, y ou know, to keep any rem em brances, after he was m arried. I knew it was – but had not resolution enough to part with them .”

“But, Harriet, is it necessary to burn the court-plaister? – I have not a word to say for the bit of old pencil, but the court-plaister m ight be useful.”

“I shall be happier to burn it,” replied Harriet. “It has a disagreeable look to m e. I m ust get rid of every thing. – There it goes, and there is an end, thank Heaven! of Mr. Elton.”

“And when,” thought Em m a, “will there be a beginning of Mr.

Churchill?”

She had soon afterwards reason to believe that the beginning was already m ade, and could not but hope that the gipsy, though she had told no

fortune, m ight be proved to have m ade Harriet’s. – About a fortnight after the alarm , they cam e to a sufficient explanation, and quite undesignedly. Em m a was not thinking of it at the m om ent, which m ade the inform ation she received m ore valuable. She m erely said, in the course of som e trivial chat, “Well, Harriet, whenever y ou m arry I would advise y ou to do so and so” – and thought no m ore of it, till after a m inute’s silence she heard Harriet say in a very serious tone, “I shall never m arry.”

Em m a then looked up, and im m ediately saw how it was; and after a m om ent’s debate, as to whether it should pass unnoticed or not, replied,

“Never m arry ! – This is a new resolution.”

“It is one that I shall never change, however.”

After another short hesitation, “I hope it does not proceed from – I hope it is not in com plim ent to Mr. Elton?”

“Mr. Elton indeed!” cried Harriet indignantly. – “Oh! no” – and Em m a could j ust catch the words, “so superior to Mr. Elton!”

She then took a longer tim e for consideration. Should she proceed no farther? – should she let it pass, and seem to suspect nothing? – Perhaps Harriet m ight think her cold or angry if she did; or perhaps if she were totally silent, it m ight only drive Harriet into asking her to hear too m uch; and against any thing like such an unreserve as had been, such an open and frequent discussion of hopes and chances, she was perfectly resolved. – She believed it would be wiser for her to say and know at once, all that she m eant to say and know. Plain dealing was alway s best. She had previously determ ined how far she would proceed, on any application of the sort; and it would be safer for both, to have the j udicious law of her own brain laid down with speed. – She was decided, and thus spoke –

“Harriet, I will not affect to be in doubt of y our m eaning. Your resolution, or rather y our expectation of never m arry ing, results from an idea that the person whom y ou m ight prefer, would be too greatly y our superior in situation to think of y ou. Is not it so?”

“Oh! Miss Woodhouse, believe m e I have not the presum ption to suppose – Indeed I am not so m ad. – But it is a pleasure to m e to adm ire him at a distance – and to think of his infinite superiority to all the rest of the world, with the gratitude, wonder, and veneration, which are so proper, in m e especially.”

“I am not at all surprized at y ou, Harriet. The service he rendered y ou was enough to warm y our heart.”

“Service! oh! it was such an inexpressible obligation! – The very

recollection of it, and all that I felt at the tim e – when I saw him com ing – his noble look – and m y wretchedness before. Such a change! In one m om ent such a change! From perfect m isery to perfect happiness!”

“It is very natural. It is natural, and it is honourable. – Yes, honourable, I think, to chuse so well and so gratefully. – But that it will be a fortunate preference is m ore that I can prom ise. I do not advise y ou to give way to it, Harriet. I do not by any m eans engage for its being returned. Consider what y ou are about.

Perhaps it will be wisest in y ou to check y our feelings while y ou can: at any rate do not let them carry y ou far, unless y ou are persuaded of his liking y ou. Be observant of him . Let his behaviour be the guide of y our sensations. I give y ou this caution now, because I shall never speak to y ou again on the subj ect. I am determ ined against all interference. Henceforward I know nothing of the m atter.

Let no nam e ever pass our lips. We were very wrong before; we will be cautious now. – He is y our superior, no doubt, and there do seem obj ections and obstacles of a very serious nature; but y et, Harriet, m ore wonderful things have taken place, there have been m atches of greater disparity. But take care of y ourself. I would not have y ou too sanguine; though, however it m ay end, be assured y our raising y our thoughts to him , is a m ark of good taste which I shall alway s know how to value.”

Harriet kissed her hand in silent and subm issive gratitude. Em m a was very decided in thinking such an attachm ent no bad thing for her friend. Its tendency would be to raise and refine her m ind – and it m ust be saving her from the danger of degradation.