Mr. Knightley’s Diary

January

Friday 1 January

It is the New Year!

I was not surprised to find that Emma had drawn up a list of resolutions. They were written in a fine hand, and exquisitely illustrated. If only she could put as much earnestness into keeping them as she does into making them!

My New Year’s resolution is to take a wife, if I can find anyone to suit.

Saturday 2 January

The thaw has left a number of problems in its wake at the Abbey. The stream has flooded, and as the thaw progresses there will be worse to come. I made provision for attending to matters once the water subsides.

I called on Graham this morning to wish him the compliments of the season. He returned the greeting. I soon learnt that he, too, had received a letter from Mr. Elton.

"I should not wonder if his visit to Bath was prompted by all this talk of weddings and families," said Mrs. Lovage. "First with Miss Taylor getting married, then with your brother and his family visiting, then with talk of Mr. Frank Churchill paying a visit to Highbury. Mr. Elton is at a time of life when he might well be thinking of marriage, and there are one or two families in Bath who would not be sorry to see him there."

I would not be at all surprised if he returned with a bride. It would soothe his pride, and put an end to the kind of scenes he has recently been a part of. Besides, who is there for him in Highbury? He cannot marry Emma, for Emma will not have him. No other woman is high enough in his estimation, I fear. I had thought, at one time, he might marry Jane Fairfax, and provide her with a respectable home. But now that he has shown his true worth, I would not inflict such a man on Miss Fairfax. She deserves a better man than he.

I wonder…I have always liked Jane Fairfax. It remains to be seen if I can like her enough to think of her as a wife.

Monday 4 January

Emma and I have had an argument, and about the most ridiculous thing: Frank Churchill. It began when she told me that he would not be coming to Highbury after all.

"I cannot say it surprises me," I remarked. "He has grown proud, luxurious and selfish through living with the Churchills."

"What nonsense!" said Emma, laughing at me.

"Why else would he keep putting off his visit? If he had wanted to see his father, he would have contrived it between September and January," I said.

"You are the worst judge in the world, Mr. Knightley, of the difficulties of dependence," she said.

It is true I have never been dependent. But even so, I am sure I should never have been slow in doing my duty, and so I told her.

"Besides, we are for ever hearing of him at Weymouth, or some other such place," I went on. "This proves that he can leave the Churchills."

She allowed the point, but maintained that his time was only his own when his aunt allowed it.

"We shall never agree about him," she said. "But that is nothing extraordinary. I have not the least idea of his being a weak young man: I feel sure that he is not; but I think he is very likely to have a more yielding, complying, mild disposition than would suit your notions of man’s perfection."

For some reason, I did not like to hear her praising him.

"He can sit down and write a fine flourishing letter, full of professions and falsehoods, if that is what you mean by a complying disposition," I said scathingly, for she seemed to think very well of a man she had never met. "His letters disgust me."

She looked surprised at the strength of my feeling, but why should I not have strong feelings?

"You seem determined to think ill of him," she said.

"Not at all. I should be as ready to acknowledge his merits as any other man; but I hear of none, except what are merely personal; that he is well-grown and good-looking, with smooth, plausible manners."

"Well, if he should have nothing else to recommend him, he will be a treasure at Highbury," she said mischievously. "We do not often look upon fine young men, well-bred and agreeable. We must not be nice and ask for all the virtues into the bargain."

"If I find him conversable, I shall be glad of his acquaintance," I remarked disdainfully, "but if he is only a chattering coxcomb, he will not occupy much of my time or thoughts."

"My idea of him is, that he can adapt his conversation to the taste of everybody, and has the power as well as the wish of being universally agreeable."

"And mine is, that if he turn out anything like it, he will be the most insufferable fellow breathing!"

I said irascibly.

"I will say no more about him," cried Emma, "you turn everything to evil. We are both prejudiced; you against, I for him; and we have no chance of agreeing "til he is really here."

"Prejudiced! I am not prejudiced," I exclaimed, although I knew, even as I said it, that I was.

"But I am very much, and without being at all ashamed of it," she said. "My love for Mr. and Mrs.

Weston gives me a decided prejudice in his favour."

"He is a person I never think of from one month’s end to another," I remarked with vexation.

But, in fact, I did not speak the truth. For some reason, I have taken a dislike to Frank Churchill, and I do not want Emma to like him, either.

It is a good thing Churchill has put off his visit. I find myself wishing he might never come to Highbury at all.

Tuesday 5 January

There was a discrepancy in the accounts, and it took me all afternoon to trace it and correct it, so I was glad to go to my whist club this evening. It was an escape from the irritations at Hartfield and the annoyances at the Abbey.

Once there, I found that a new subject of conversation had arisen, and one that had thankfully put Frank Churchill out of everyone’s mind.

"This is good news," said Otway, when I entered the Crown. "Jane Fairfax is to visit her aunt and grandmother. I have not seen Miss Fairfax for years. A taking little thing she was, when she was a girl. She will be a young woman now, of an age with Miss Woodhouse."

"It will be good for the two of them to have each other. Mrs. Weston is very pleased," said Weston.

"And so am I," I said. At last, Emma will have some refined company. After the disappointments of recent weeks, I hope she will value it for what it is worth. And I…perhaps I will find what I have been looking for. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see Miss Fairfax and Emma become friends."

"It’s a sad situation," said Cole. "Poor girl. It was very good of Colonel Campbell to raise her when her parents died..."

"A lot of men would have conveniently forgotten that Jane’s father had saved their life," agreed Weston.

" - or regarded it as a duty to do something for the infant, making a contribution to their upkeep, perhaps, but nothing more," said Cole. "But not Colonel Campbell."

"I suppose he thought he might as well take her in, having a girl of his own. It gave both children a playmate, his daughter being an only child."

"I dare say that played its part, but it was still good of him to give Jane a home and all the benefits of an education."

"Something her aunt could not have afforded," agreed Weston.

"But it is a double-edged kindness," I said. "Now that Miss Fairfax is a woman, she has to earn a living. It will not be easy for her to move from a world in which she has had a great deal of pleasure, to one in which she will be little better than a servant."

"I would like to help her, but what can we do?" asked Cole.

"Nothing but make her welcome in Highbury, where we can show her the attentions she deserves, and make her feel that here there will always be a place for her," said Weston.

As he spoke, I thought that I might be able to do something more.

Tuesday 12 January

Business brought me to town, and after it was concluded, I dined with my friend Routledge at the club.

"What news from Highbury?" he asked.

I began by telling him about the Abbey and the farms, and then we talked of my neighbours. I told him about Mr. Longridge and Mrs. Lovage.

"Mrs. Lovage?" he asked.

"She is Graham’s sister, and she has been to stay with him several times."

"Does her husband not object?" he asked. "He seems to be unusually compliant if he allows her to stay with her brother so often - unless, of course, he goes, too?"

"She is a widow."

"Ah, I see. It is a recent bereavement? Is that why she stays so often with her brother? She is in need of consolation, I suppose."

"Not so very recent. Her husband has been dead for five years. She stays with her brother because she enjoys his company, not because she is grieving."

"I see. She is old, I take it? Graham must be thirty-five, so his sister is about forty, I collect, with several children?"

"Forty!" I said. "She is no such thing. She is his younger sister, and cannot be more than seven-or eight-and-twenty. As for children, I have never heard them mentioned."

"I believe you said she was ugly?"

"No, she is rather beautiful," I remarked. "In fact, she is very beautiful."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And, if she is a young and beautiful widow, who is the sister of your friend, have you not thought of marrying her?" he asked.

"Yes," I admitted. "I have. But I could not bring myself to think of her in that way. She would always be wanting to go to Brighton, or Bath, or London, or Weymouth, and I like to spend my time in Highbury."

"That is the worst reason for not marrying a woman I have ever come across! You surprise me,

Knightley. I did not think you would be so easily defeated. Surely some agreement could be reached?"

"If I loved her, yes. But I have no feelings for her. I did not miss her when she returned to Bath for a spell and that told me that she was not important to me."

"Why should you, indeed? You had plenty to do. You could not be expected to pine for her like a lovesick schoolboy."

"I was never a lovesick schoolboy. The notion of love, in my youth, struck me as ridiculous, but I always miss Emma when I am away from Highbury, no matter how much I have to do."

"Do you?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Yes, I do. I often resent an evening spent in London, because I cannot walk over to Hartfield after dinner and discuss the day’s news."

"And is there no one else you have seen who might interest you? No woman who has caught your fancy, or entertained you, or intrigued you?"

"My brother has introduced me to several young ladies, but the idea of an evening with one of them is not as enticing to me as the idea of five minutes with Emma," I said shortly.

"And have you met no great beauties?"

"A few. But I prefer to look at Emma."

"And what does all this tell you?" he asked me,

"That I have not yet met the right woman, and that there is no use my marrying unless I find someone I like as well as Emma," I said.

He laughed, though I did not know why. There was nothing very amusing in what I had said.

"I have a feeling you will be married before the year is out," he told me.

I could not agree with him, but for the sake of peace I did not contradict him and our conversation moved on to other things.

Friday 15 January

I returned home from London, and spent the evening at Hartfield. I enjoyed myself so thoroughly that I was convinced I would be foolish to exchange such company for something less agreeable. I would like to marry, but I would rather remain single than give up my evenings with Emma and her father.

Wednesday 20 January

The new path at the Abbey is proving troublesome. First we could not lay it because of the snow, then because of the flood that followed, and now there is such a thick frost that work cannot go ahead. I would like to have it finished for the spring, and I am chafing at the delay. However, it is only January, and I do not despair of some milder weather soon.

Weston called this morning to discuss a matter of business, and as he was leaving he told me that Miss Fairfax had arrived.

I took the first opportunity to call on Miss Bates, so that I could pay my respects.

Somehow the Bates’s apartment seemed shabbier today than usual, though I could not think why. It was still in the same house, belonging to the same people in business. It still occupied the drawing-room floor. It was still of a moderate size. Mrs. Bates was still sitting in the corner with her knitting, and Miss Bates was still ready to make me welcome.

And then I realized it was because of Miss Fairfax. Whether it was because her presence provided novelty, and therefore made me look at the room anew, or whether it was because everything seemed shabby in comparison with her beauty, I could not say. But shabby it seemed.

My first impression of Miss Fairfax was very favourable. She was even more beautiful than I remembered her, and I moved forward to greet her.

"I am very glad to see you in Highbury again, Miss Fairfax," I said to her.

"Thank you," she replied.

As I saw her in a better light, I noticed she was thin and pale.

"Your aunt tells me you have been ill?" I remarked, as I took a seat beside her.

"It is nothing. A cold, that is all," she said.

She seemed listless and out of spirits.

"But you have had it for several months?" I asked.

"It is hard, over the winter, to rid oneself of a cold," she said quietly.

"Now we have her back at Highbury, she will be well again in no time," said Miss Bates. "Our good Highbury air will restore her, depend upon it, Mr. Knightley. Mr. Perry is convinced of it. I spoke to him only this morning. He called to see Jane - so good! So obliging! We are so grateful to him - and he says that now she is back home, she will no doubt recover. Our friends have all been so kind, sending anything they think Jane might enjoy. Only this morning Mr. Longridge sent some calves"-foot jelly! Mr. Woodhouse has sent us a beautiful piece of pork, and Mr. Graham sent some bottled pears. I told him we could not think of taking them, but he said he had had such a glut of pears this year that we would be doing him a kindness in taking them. I am sure we will have her better in no time."

I could tell from her expression, though, that she was worried.

Various remedies were discussed; and then, seeing that Miss Fairfax looked upset at all this talk of her health, I talked about the Abbey, about John, Isabella and the children; in short, anything that I thought would lift her spirits.

She smiled a little when I spoke of Henry and John skating on the stream, for she met them as very small children, when she visited us two years ago.

"Oh, yes, Jane was so pleased to hear about the children. We had a visit from Miss Woodhouse, and she was so obliging as to tell us all about them," said Miss Bates.

Her remark pleased me. I had been going to call at Hartfield and suggest that Emma visit Miss

Fairfax, but I was glad that her own good sense had already prompted her to call.

I spent a little while longer with the Bateses, then I went on to Hartfield, pleased with my visit. I was eager for Emma’s opinion of Miss Fairfax, and I was both surprised and happy to discover that, for once, Emma seemed to be fully aware of Miss Fairfax’s merits.

It made me glad of Emma’s friendship with Harriet which has, I believe, served as a useful counterpoint in showing Emma how to value Jane Fairfax.

"She is certainly handsome; she is better than handsome!" were Emma’s first words to me. I was very gratified to hear them.

"I had forgotten how elegant Miss Fairfax is," she went on. "A very pretty height, and a graceful figure, though I thought she looked a little thin."

"So did I!" I joined in, pleased to know that, for once, we thought alike. "But then, she has been ill."

"Yes, so her aunt told me. A cold, I believe. It is strange for a cold to last so long," she added thoughtfully.

There was something in her eye as she said it, and I feared mischief, but I found it was nothing worse than a desire to be useful, after all, for Emma continued: "I do not like to think of her going as a governess, for so much elegance and beauty will be wasted in the schoolroom. It is a pity there is no young man in Highbury who could rescue her from that fate."

"Matchmaking again?" I asked her, but I was not displeased. A husband would be the very answer to Miss Fairfax’s situation, and relieve her from the unappetizing life before her - a life which, I believe, is troubling Miss Fairfax, and ruining her health.

Friday 22 January

Today was busy. I rode over to Kingston this morning and visited the bank, and then visited my tenants. The recent heavy rain had caused damage to the roofs in several of the farm labourers" cottages, and repairs were needed. I have arranged for them to be done as soon as there is a dry spell.

So busy was I that I was almost late arriving at Graham’s. After exchanging civilities, I sat next to Mr. and Mrs. Cole, and the conversation turned to Jane Fairfax. We all expressed our sympathy for her fate, our concern for her health and our pleasure in having her amongst us once again.

After dinner, as soon as the ladies had left us, the conversation moved on to business. We spoke of the war, and of Napoleon, and hoped the hostilities would soon be at an end.

When we rejoined the ladies, Mrs. Lovage played and I joined her at the pianoforte. We sang together, and then she relinquished her place to Miss Cox, who played a sonata.

I returned to the Abbey, and I found an invitation to dinner at Hartfield waiting for me. I was pleased. I wanted to see Emma and Miss Fairfax, and to see how they got on together.

I cannot marry Miss Fairfax if she does not get on with Emma.

Saturday 23 January

I had high hopes of the dinner party at Hartfield, and I was not disappointed. I wished to see a further intimacy developing between Emma and Jane Fairfax, and I was gratified to see that it was so.

Emma was polite, Jane was graceful, and they seemed to enjoy each other’s company.

Emma was an excellent hostess. She drew Miss Fairfax out by talking of Miss Fairfax’s friend, Miss Campbell, and Miss Campbell’s new husband, Mr. Dixon. He sounded to be a gentlemanlike man, and it seemed that Miss Campbell had been fortunate in her choice.

Emma also drew forth some information about Frank Churchill. He was at Weymouth in the autumn, at the same time as Miss Fairfax, and so Miss Fairfax had made his acquaintance. This fact was of great interest to our fellow guests, not all of whom had heard of it, and it made the conversation particularly gratifying to the Westons, who were eager to hear further details about him.

Miss Fairfax said little, being still in low spirits, but what she said amounted to the fact that he was a very gentlemanlike man with agreeable manners, and was a general favourite.

I was surprised, but pleased, that Emma did not want to know more about him. She seemed more interested in the Dixons. Indeed, her questions were so pointed that I suspected some mischief but what mischief could there be in her asking about Jane’s newly married friend? It was just a woman’s curiosity, I suppose, as to how Miss Campbell and Mr. Dixon met, and how often Miss Fairfax was with them.

Thursday 28 January

January has proved to be busy both for me and for Highbury. I have had a great deal to do at the Abbey, and when I called in on Cole this morning, I heard that Elton was to marry! Cole showed me the letter. It was short and to the point.

My dear Cole, You must congratulate me. I have been so fortunate as to win the affection of a most beautiful young woman by the name of Augusta Hawkins. She is a goddess! We met quite by chance, and soon afterwards sat next to each other at a dinner party. I was taken with her straight away, but she was so far above me, her sister being married to Mr. Suckling of Maple Park, that I hardly dared hope - and yet her looks, her smiles! We met again, and my heart took flight! She is the embodiment of my dreams. My dear Augusta! An heiress, a beauty, and soon to be mine!

Your friend, PE

Poor Emma! I had better warn her of it, so that she is prepared when it becomes generally spoken of. It will give her a chance to prepare her little friend as well. If it were not for Harriet, I would be glad that this has happened. It will make intercourse between us all much easier, and smooth over any problems that might have arisen. Otherwise, embarrassment and coldness must have been the result of Emma’s misunderstanding. But Elton’s forthcoming marriage will provide so much to talk about, that the past will be forgotten. Any change in his habits will be attributed to his new situation. He will no longer be expected to dine at Hartfield so much, which will be a blessing both for him and for Emma.

For Harriet, though, the news must hurt. I comforted myself with the thought that it will hurt her pride only. I do not believe she was ever in love with Elton, or that she would have thought of him at all if Emma had not put the idea into her mind.

Perhaps now she may be allowed to go back to her own life, and to marry Robert Martin, as she should have done in the first place.

As for Emma, there will be some humiliation for her, but she will take no lasting harm from it. Besides, she has other things to occupy her mind.

I was pleased to see her being so friendly to Jane Fairfax yesterday. If I do not mistake my guess, the two of them are well on the way to becoming friends, and a far more suitable friendship it will be than the ones Emma has so far indulged in.

I went round to Hartfield after leaving Cole, to persuade Mr. Woodhouse that he really must build a new hen-house, and then I was free to talk to Emma.

"It was a very pleasant evening yesterday," I said. "I think everyone thought so."

"Once, I felt the fire rather too much; but then I moved back my chair a little, a very little, and it did not disturb me," said Mr. Woodhouse. "I like old friends; and Miss Jane Fairfax is a very pretty sort of young lady, a very pretty and a very well-behaved young lady indeed."

I was pleased to have the subject of Jane Fairfax introduced, and I could not agree more with Mr. Woodhouse. Jane Fairfax is very pretty indeed.

"You and Miss Fairfax gave us some very good music," I said to Emma. "I was glad you made her play so much, for having no instrument at her grandmother’s, it must have been a real indulgence."

"I am happy you approved, but I hope I am not often deficient in what is due to guests at Hartfield," she said, rebuking me.

I let it pass. I encouraged her to talk of Jane Fairfax, saying that she had seemed pleased with Miss

Fairfax.

"I was pleased with my own perseverance in asking questions, and amused to think how little information I obtained," she returned saucily.

I was disappointed she had not liked Jane more.

"She must have found the evening agreeable, Mr. Knightley," said Mr. Woodhouse, "because she had Emma."

"And Emma because she had Miss Fairfax."

I was gratified to hear Emma say: "She is a sort of elegant creature that one cannot keep one’s eyes from. I am always watching her to admire; and I do pity her from my heart."

I was so warmed by this generous tribute that I was reminded of my news, and I resolved to speak at once, so that I could prepare Emma for the shock, but at that minute Miss Bates and her niece were announced and my chance was lost.

I had to listen as Miss Bates said: "Oh! my dear sir, how are you this morning? Yes, very well, I thank you. My dear Miss Woodhouse - I come quite overpowered. Such a beautiful hindquarter of pork! You are too bountiful! Have you heard the news? Mr. Elton is going to be married."

And so Emma heard about the death of her schemes, along with Miss Bates’s health and a discussion of a hindquarter of pork. She was surprised; she blushed; but she took it well.

"There is my news: I thought it would interest you," I said to her.

The subject furnished our talk for the rest of the morning. Elton was described to Miss Fairfax, who said very little, and I began to realize why Emma thought her reserved. But I think her merely quiet. It is a result, no doubt, of her present unsettled situation. Her poor health can, I am sure, be attributed to the same cause.

Fortunately, Emma did not appear unduly distressed, and this led me to believe that news of Elton’s marriage was not wholly unexpected. She must have already known that he would never marry Harriet, and I found myself wondering again what exactly had happened in the carriage on Christmas Eve. Had he said so? Had he been horrified at the suggestion? Had he proposed to Emma? I wished I knew.

Meanwhile, Miss Bates was still talking of Elton.

"I always fancied he would marry a local young lady, some young lady hereabouts; not that I ever - Mrs. Cole once whispered to me - but I immediately said, “No, Mr. Elton is a most worthy young man - but” - In short, I do not think I am particularly quick at those sorts of discoveries. I do not pretend to it. What is before me, I see. At the same time, nobody could wonder if Mr. Elton should have aspired..."

Emma was growing more and more uncomfortable, and at last Miss Bates perceived it.

"Miss Woodhouse lets me chatter on, so good-humouredly. She knows I would not offend for the world."

And indeed she would not, but her tongue is so rapid, she blunders before she knows what she is saying.

I looked at Emma, but she merely smiled, as though nothing untoward had been said.

It cannot have been easy for her to listen to Miss Bates suggesting, in her artless way, that Mr. Elton had aspired to her hand. It must have been even harder for her to think that the whole village knew of it. But she bore it well. Bravo, Emma!

Miss Bates herself realized the conversation was not well-chosen and started another thread, only this one was unfortunately no more happy than the last.

"How does Harriet do?" she asked. "She seems quite recovered now."

Emma said that she was, but I pitied her, as I saw from her blush that she remembered her folly with regard to her friend.

And then at last Miss Bates hit on a topic that could not fail to please everyone in the room.

"Have you heard from Mrs. John Knightley lately? Oh! those dear little children. Jane, do you know I always fancy Mr. Dixon like Mr. John Knightley? I mean in person - tall, and with that sort of look - and not very talkative."

Elton was forgotten, and before long Miss Bates was rising to leave. I encouraged her. I felt that Emma had suffered enough for one morning.

Miss Fairfax being tired, I offered her my arm, as I, too, was leaving. She took it gladly.

I barely felt her weight, she is grown so thin. I am glad that Perry has seen her, to make sure there is nothing more seriously wrong with her than a cold. I must redouble my efforts to help her. I would not see her fade away for the want of a friend, and, perhaps one day, I might be something more.

I escorted her and her aunt back to their home, which we reached just as it was coming on to rain, and Miss Bates pressed me to come inside until it stopped. I was happy to do so.

I took the opportunity of talking to Miss Fairfax about books, about music, about her friends the Campbells, in short about anything and everything, but she said very little. It was much more difficult for me to converse with her than it was for me to converse with Emma, but allowances must be made for shyness. She has only just returned to Highbury, after all.

Once the weather improved I set off for the Abbey, and having some business at Ford’s, I passed through Highbury. I had almost reached the shop when I saw an interesting thing. Harriet Smith emerged from the door and set off towards Hartfield. Not a moment later, Robert Martin appeared and ran after her. They talked for a minute, and then Harriet set off in a different direction, taking the road past Mr. Cole’s stables. From the hesitations and embarrassment apparent on both sides, it seemed they were not comfortable with each other, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that they were not comfortable with the situation. With each other, if left to their own devices, I think they could be very comfortable indeed.

Friday 29 January

I called at Abbey Mill Farm today. Robert Martin was not at home, but Mrs. Martin made me welcome and asked me if I would wait. I said I would, and after the usual pleasantries and comments on the farm, I remarked that it had been fortunate for Miss Smith to see Robert the previous day, as he had been able to warn her away from the flooded path. Mrs. Martin was at first rather cold, saying she hoped her son always remembered his manners, but she soon warmed to her theme and it became clear that she was still very fond of Miss Smith.

"Such a nicely spoken young lady, and so well-read," remarked Mrs. Martin. "She recommended The Romance of the Forest to us, and we"ve all read it, even Robert. I am reading Children of the Abbey at present, another book Miss Smith recommended. I"ve not been able to get near it until now, because my daughters have all been reading it, though Robert bought it before Christmas. “What a coincidence, it being about an abbey,” my oldest girl said. “And here are we, living at Abbey Mill Farm. We could be the children of the Abbey.” We all laughed at that. It was a pity Miss Smith wasn"t here; she would have enjoyed the joke."

Yes, I believe she would.

When Robert Martin returned, we took a tour of the farm and he showed me the improvements he intends to make. The farm is flourishing, and he hopes to make it more profitable next year. After hearing about his plans, I think he will succeed.

Saturday 30 January

A bright day. After the snow and the rain, it made a welcome change to see the sun. I fancied a break from my labours, and so I walked over to Hartfield to see Emma and her father. Perry was there, and whilst he sat with Mr. Woodhouse, Emma and I took a turn in the garden.

"Your little friend is not with you, I see," I remarked.

"No. She had some shopping to do, and I did not like to leave my father. The bad weather has depressed his spirits, and I played backgammon with him to pass the time until Perry arrived."

"I saw her the other day, outside Ford’s."

I thought Emma stiffened, but she replied coolly enough: "Oh?"

"Yes. She was just on her way to Hartfield, I think. She set off to go by the nearest route, but Robert Martin followed her out of the shop and recommended she take another way because the path was flooded."

"That was very good of him," she said lightly.

"Yes, it was. But then Robert Martin is a good man."

"I am sure he is. But not good enough for Harriet," she said.

"And how are your efforts to educate your little friend coming along? How is her sketching, her reading and her music?"

She coloured.

"You have abandoned them, I see. I am not surprised. Harriet was not made for music and sketching, but Miss Fairfax was. You should invite her to Hartfield. Together you can sketch and read, and play the pianoforte. She would be a proper companion for you."

"She is so thin I do not like to trouble her," said Emma awkwardly.

"You mean you do not like to trouble yourself! You were never fond of practising your music, even as a little girl. You were always eager to escape."

"Well, and what if I was? There was always something more interesting to do!" she said with an arch smile.

"You will never be truly accomplished if you do not practise."

"I am accomplished enough for Highbury," she said.

"It is a pity you do not go to London more."

"You know I cannot leave Papa. Besides, you always listen to me, despite my wrong notes!"

"I hope you are not passing these standards on to Harriet," I said. "You will never improve her if you are."

She had the grace to blush.

"You have not forgiven me for trying to improve her," she said.

"Improvement is a good thing, in general, but it should not be allowed to interfere with real life, and real prospects."

We were back to Robert Martin.

I said no more, for I believe she is capable of continuing with her misguided notions to prove that she is right, whereas if I leave her to herself, in time I hope she will admit that she is wrong.

I am less worried about Harriet than I was. I am beginning to think she and Robert Martin will make a match of it, despite Emma’s best efforts to keep them apart.