Chapter V

In this state of schem es, and hopes, and connivance, June opened upon Hartfield. To Highbury in general it brought no m aterial change. The Eltons were still talking of a visit from the Sucklings, and of the use to be m ade of their barouche-landau; and Jane Fairfax was still at her grandm other’s; and as the return of the Cam pbells from Ireland was again delay ed, and August, instead of Midsum m er, fixed for it, she was likely to rem ain there full two m onths longer, provided at least she were able to defeat Mrs. Elton’s activity in her service, and save herself from being hurried into a delightful situation against her will.

Mr. Knightley, who, for som e reason best known to him self, had certainly taken an early dislike to Frank Churchill, was only growing to dislike him m ore. He began to suspect him of som e double dealing in his pursuit of Em m a.

That Em m a was his obj ect appeared indisputable. Every thing declared it; his own attentions, his father’s hints, his m other-in-law’s guarded silence; it was all in unison; words, conduct, discretion, and indiscretion, told the sam e story. But while so m any were devoting him to Em m a, and Em m a herself m aking him over to Harriet, Mr. Knightley began to suspect him of som e inclination to trifle with Jane Fairfax. He could not understand it; but there were sy m ptom s of intelligence between them – he thought so at least – sy m ptom s of adm iration on his side, which, having once observed, he could not persuade him self to think entirely void of m eaning, however he m ight wish to escape any of Em m a’s errors of im agination. She was not present when the suspicion first arose. He was dining with the Randalls fam ily, and Jane, at the Eltons’; and he had seen a look, m ore than a single look, at Miss Fairfax, which, from the adm irer of Miss Woodhouse, seem ed som ewhat out of place. When he was again in their com pany, he could not help rem em bering what he had seen; nor could he avoid observations which, unless it were like Cowper and his fire at twilight,

“My self creating what I saw,”

brought him y et stronger suspicion of there being a som ething of private liking, of private understanding even, between Frank Churchill and Jane.

He had walked up one day after dinner, as he very often did, to spend his evening at Hartfield. Em m a and Harriet were going to walk; he j oined them ; and, on returning, they fell in with a larger party, who, like them selves, j udged it wisest to take their exercise early, as the weather threatened rain; Mr. and Mrs.

Weston and their son, Miss Bates and her niece, who had accidentally m et. They all united; and, on reaching Hartfield gates, Em m a, who knew it was exactly the sort of visiting that would be welcom e to her father, pressed them all to go in and

drink tea with him . The Randalls party agreed to it im m ediately ; and after a pretty long speech from Miss Bates, which few persons listened to, she also found it possible to accept dear Miss Woodhouse’s m ost obliging invitation.

As they were turning into the grounds, Mr. Perry passed by on horseback. The gentlem en spoke of his horse.

“By the by e,” said Frank Churchill to Mrs. Weston presently, “what becam e of Mr. Perry ’s plan of setting up his carriage?”

Mrs. Weston looked surprized, and said, “I did not know that he ever had any such plan.”

“Nay, I had it from y ou. You wrote m e word of it three m onths ago.”

“Me! im possible!”

“Indeed y ou did. I rem em ber it perfectly. You m entioned it as what was certainly to be very soon. Mrs. Perry had told som ebody, and was extrem ely happy about it. It was owing to her persuasion, as she thought his being out in bad weather did him a great deal of harm . You m ust rem em ber it now?”

“Upon m y word I never heard of it till this m om ent.”

“Never! really, never! – Bless m e! how could it be? – Then I m ust have dream t it – but I was com pletely persuaded – Miss Sm ith, y ou walk as if y ou were tired. You will not be sorry to find y ourself at hom e.”

“What is this? – What is this?” cried Mr. Weston, “about Perry and a carriage? Is Perry going to set up his carriage, Frank? I am glad he can afford it.

You had it from him self, had y ou?”

“No, sir,” replied his son, laughing, “I seem to have had it from nobody.

– Very odd! – I really was persuaded of Mrs. Weston’s having m entioned it in one of her letters to Enscom be, m any weeks ago, with all these particulars – but as she declares she never heard a sy llable of it before, of course it m ust have been a dream . I am a great dream er. I dream of every body at Highbury when I am away – and when I have gone through m y particular friends, then I begin dream ing of Mr. and Mrs. Perry.”

“It is odd though,” observed his father, “that y ou should have had such a regular connected dream about people whom it was not very likely y ou should be thinking of at Enscom be. Perry ’s setting up his carriage! and his wife’s persuading him to it, out of care for his health – j ust what will happen, I have no doubt, som e tim e or other; only a little prem ature. What an air of probability som etim es runs through a dream ! And at others, what a heap of absurdities it is! Well, Frank, y our dream certainly shews that Highbury is in y our thoughts when y ou are absent.

Em m a, y ou are a great dream er, I think?”

Em m a was out of hearing. She had hurried on before her guests to prepare her father for their appearance, and was bey ond the reach of Mr.

Weston’s hint.

“Why, to own the truth,” cried Miss Bates, who had been try ing in vain to be heard the last two m inutes, “if I m ust speak on this subj ect, there is no deny ing that Mr. Frank Churchill m ight have – I do not m ean to say that he did not dream it – I am sure I have som etim es the oddest dream s in the world – but if I am questioned about it, I m ust acknowledge that there was such an idea last spring; for Mrs. Perry herself m entioned it to m y m other, and the Coles knew of it as well as ourselves – but it was quite a secret, known to nobody else, and only thought of about three day s. Mrs. Perry was very anxious that he should have a carriage, and cam e to m y m other in great spirits one m orning because she thought she had prevailed. Jane, don’t y ou rem em ber grandm am a’s telling us of it when we got hom e? I forget where we had been walking to – very likely to Randalls; y es, I think it was to Randalls. Mrs. Perry was alway s particularly fond of m y m other – indeed I do not know who is not – and she had m entioned it to her in confidence; she had no obj ection to her telling us, of course, but it was not to go bey ond: and, from that day to this, I never m entioned it to a soul that I know of.

At the sam e tim e, I will not positively answer for m y having never dropt a hint, because I know I do som etim es pop out a thing before I am aware. I am a talker, y ou know; I am rather a talker; and now and then I have let a thing escape m e which I should not. I am not like Jane; I wish I were. I will answer for it she never betray ed the least thing in the world. Where is she? – Oh! j ust behind. Perfectly rem em ber Mrs. Perry ’s com ing. – Extraordinary dream , indeed!” They were entering the hall. Mr. Knightley ’s ey es had preceded Miss Bates’s in a glance at Jane. From Frank Churchill’s face, where he thought he saw confusion suppressed or laughed away, he had involuntarily turned to hers; but she was indeed behind, and too busy with her shawl. Mr. Weston had walked in.

The two other gentlem en waited at the door to let her pass. Mr. Knightley suspected in Frank Churchill the determ ination of catching her ey e – he seem ed watching her intently – in vain, however, if it were so – Jane passed between them into the hall, and looked at neither.

There was no tim e for farther rem ark or explanation. The dream m ust be borne with, and Mr. Knightley m ust take his seat with the rest round the large m odern circular table which Em m a had introduced at Hartfield, and which none but Em m a could have had power to place there and persuade her father to use, instead of the sm all-sized Pem broke, on which two of his daily m eals had, for

forty y ears been crowded. Tea passed pleasantly, and nobody seem ed in a hurry to m ove.

“Miss Woodhouse,” said Frank Churchill, after exam ining a table behind him , which he could reach as he sat, “have y our nephews taken away their alphabets – their box of letters? It used to stand here. Where is it? This is a sort of dull-looking evening, that ought to be treated rather as winter than sum m er. We had great am usem ent with those letters one m orning. I want to puzzle y ou again.”

Em m a was pleased with the thought; and producing the box, the table was quickly scattered over with alphabets, which no one seem ed so m uch disposed to em ploy as their two selves. They were rapidly form ing words for each other, or for any body else who would be puzzled. The quietness of the gam e m ade it particularly eligible for Mr. Woodhouse, who had often been distressed by the m ore anim ated sort, which Mr. Weston had occasionally introduced, and who now sat happily occupied in lam enting, with tender m elancholy, over the departure of the “poor little boy s,” or in fondly pointing out, as he took up any stray letter near him , how beautifully Em m a had written it.

Frank Churchill placed a word before Miss Fairfax. She gave a slight glance round the table, and applied herself to it. Frank was next to Em m a, Jane opposite to them – and Mr. Knightley so placed as to see them all; and it was his obj ect to see as m uch as he could, with as little apparent observation. The word was discovered, and with a faint sm ile pushed away. If m eant to be im m ediately m ixed with the others, and buried from sight, she should have looked on the table instead of looking j ust across, for it was not m ixed; and Harriet, eager after every fresh word, and finding out none, directly took it up, and fell to work. She was sitting by Mr. Knightley, and turned to him for help. The word was blunder; and as Harriet exultingly proclaim ed it, there was a blush on Jane’s cheek which gave it a m eaning not otherwise ostensible. Mr. Knightley connected it with the dream ; but how it could all be, was bey ond his com prehension. How the delicacy, the discretion of his favourite could have been so lain asleep! He feared there m ust be som e decided involvem ent. Disingenuousness and double dealing seem ed to m eet him at every turn. These letters were but the vehicle for gallantry and trick.

It was a child’s play, chosen to conceal a deeper gam e on Frank Churchill’s part.

With great indignation did he continue to observe him ; with great alarm and distrust, to observe also his two blinded com panions. He saw a short word prepared for Em m a, and given to her with a look sly and dem ure. He saw that Em m a had soon m ade it out, and found it highly entertaining, though it was som ething which she j udged it proper to appear to censure; for she said,

“Nonsense! for sham e!” He heard Frank Churchill next say, with a glance towards Jane, “I will give it to her – shall I?” – and as clearly heard Em m a opposing it with eager laughing warm th. “No, no, y ou m ust not; y ou shall not, indeed.”

It was done however. This gallant y oung m an, who seem ed to love without feeling, and to recom m end him self without com plaisance, directly handed over the word to Miss Fairfax, and with a particular degree of sedate civility entreated her to study it. Mr. Knightley ’s excessive curiosity to know what this word m ight be, m ade him seize every possible m om ent for darting his ey e towards it, and it was not long before he saw it to be Dixon. Jane Fairfax’s perception seem ed to accom pany his; her com prehension was certainly m ore equal to the covert m eaning, the superior intelligence, of those five letters so arranged. She was evidently displeased; looked up, and seeing herself watched, blushed m ore deeply than he had ever perceived her, and say ing only, “I did not know that proper nam es were allowed,” pushed away the letters with even an angry spirit, and looked resolved to be engaged by no other word that could be offered. Her face was averted from those who had m ade the attack, and turned towards her aunt.

“Ay e, very true, m y dear,” cried the latter, though Jane had not spoken a word – “I was j ust going to say the sam e thing. It is tim e for us to be going indeed. The evening is closing in, and grandm am a will be looking for us. My dear sir, y ou are too obliging. We really m ust wish y ou good night.”

Jane’s alertness in m oving, proved her as ready as her aunt had preconceived. She was im m ediately up, and wanting to quit the table; but so m any were also m oving, that she could not get away ; and Mr. Knightley thought he saw another collection of letters anxiously pushed towards her, and resolutely swept away by her unexam ined. She was afterwards looking for her shawl –

Frank Churchill was looking also – it was growing dusk, and the room was in confusion; and how they parted, Mr. Knightley could not tell.

He rem ained at Hartfield after all the rest, his thoughts full of what he had seen; so full, that when the candles cam e to assist his observations, he m ust –

y es, he certainly m ust, as a friend – an anxious friend – give Em m a som e hint, ask her som e question. He could not see her in a situation of such danger, without try ing to preserve her. It was his duty.

“Pray, Em m a,” said he, “m ay I ask in what lay the great am usem ent, the poignant sting of the last word given to y ou and Miss Fairfax? I saw the word, and am curious to know how it could be so very entertaining to the one, and so very distressing to the other.”

Em m a was extrem ely confused. She could not endure to give him the true explanation; for though her suspicions were by no m eans rem oved, she was

really asham ed of having ever im parted them .

“Oh!” she cried in evident em barrassm ent, “it all m eant nothing; a m ere j oke am ong ourselves.”

“The j oke,” he replied gravely, “seem ed confined to y ou and Mr.

Churchill.”

He had hoped she would speak again, but she did not. She would rather busy herself about any thing than speak. He sat a little while in doubt. A variety of evils crossed his m ind. Interference – fruitless interference. Em m a’s confusion, and the acknowledged intim acy, seem ed to declare her affection engaged. Yet he would speak. He owed it to her, to risk any thing that m ight be involved in an unwelcom e interference, rather than her welfare; to encounter any thing, rather than the rem em brance of neglect in such a cause.

“My dear Em m a,” said he at last, with earnest kindness, “do y ou think y ou perfectly understand the degree of acquaintance between the gentlem an and lady we have been speaking of?”

“Between Mr. Frank Churchill and Miss Fairfax? Oh! y es, perfectly. –

Why do y ou m ake a doubt of it?”

“Have y ou never at any tim e had reason to think that he adm ired her, or that she adm ired him ?”

“Never, never!” she cried with a m ost open eagerness – “Never, for the twentieth part of a m om ent, did such an idea occur to m e. And how could it possibly com e into y our head?”

“I have lately im agined that I saw sy m ptom s of attachm ent between them – certain expressive looks, which I did not believe m eant to be public.”

“Oh! y ou am use m e excessively. I am delighted to find that y ou can vouchsafe to let y our im agination wander – but it will not do – very sorry to check y ou in y our first essay – but indeed it will not do. There is no adm iration between them , I do assure y ou; and the appearances which have caught y ou, have arisen from som e peculiar circum stances – feelings rather of a totally different nature – it is im possible exactly to explain: – there is a good deal of nonsense in it – but the part which is capable of being com m unicated, which is sense, is, that they are as far from any attachm ent or adm iration for one another, as any two beings in the world can be. That is, I presum e it to be so on her side, and I can answer for its being so on his. I will answer for the gentlem an’s indifference.”

She spoke with a confidence which staggered, with a satisfaction which

silenced, Mr. Knightley. She was in gay spirits, and would have prolonged the conversation, wanting to hear the particulars of his suspicions, every look described, and all the wheres and hows of a circum stance which highly entertained her: but his gaiety did not m eet hers. He found he could not be useful, and his feelings were too m uch irritated for talking. That he m ight not be irritated into an absolute fever, by the fire which Mr. Woodhouse’s tender habits required alm ost every evening throughout the y ear, he soon afterwards took a hasty leave, and walked hom e to the coolness and solitude of Donwell Abbey.