XLIV

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XLIV

The wretchedness of a scheme to Box Hill was in EmmaвАЩs thoughts all the evening. How it might be considered by the rest of the party, she could not tell. They, in their different homes, and their different ways, might be looking back on it with pleasure; but in her view it was a morning more completely misspent, more totally bare of rational satisfaction at the time, and more to be abhorred in recollection, than any she had ever passed. A whole evening of backgammon with her father, was felicity to it. There, indeed, lay real pleasure, for there she was giving up the sweetest hours of the twenty-four to his comfort; and feeling that, unmerited as might be the degree of his fond affection and confiding esteem, she could not, in her general conduct, be open to any severe reproach. As a daughter, she hoped she was not without a heart. She hoped no one could have said to her, вАЬHow could you be so unfeeling to your father?вБ†вАФI must, I will tell you truths while I can.вАЭ Miss Bates should never againвБ†вАФno, never! If attention, in future, could do away the past, she might hope to be forgiven. She had been often remiss, her conscience told her so; remiss, perhaps, more in thought than fact; scornful, ungracious. But it should be so no more. In the warmth of true contrition, she would call upon her the very next morning, and it should be the beginning, on her side, of a regular, equal, kindly intercourse.

She was just as determined when the morrow came, and went early, that nothing might prevent her. It was not unlikely, she thought, that she might see Mr. Knightley in her way; or, perhaps, he might come in while she were paying her visit. She had no objection. She would not be ashamed of the appearance of the penitence, so justly and truly hers. Her eyes were towards Donwell as she walked, but she saw him not.

вАЬThe ladies were all at home.вАЭ She had never rejoiced at the sound before, nor ever before entered the passage, nor walked up the stairs, with any wish of giving pleasure, but in conferring obligation, or of deriving it, except in subsequent ridicule.

There was a bustle on her approach; a good deal of moving and talking. She heard Miss BatesвАЩs voice, something was to be done in a hurry; the maid looked frightened and awkward; hoped she would be pleased to wait a moment, and then ushered her in too soon. The aunt and niece seemed both escaping into the adjoining room. Jane she had a distinct glimpse of, looking extremely ill; and, before the door had shut them out, she heard Miss Bates saying, вАЬWell, my dear, I shall say you are laid down upon the bed, and I am sure you are ill enough.вАЭ

Poor old Mrs. Bates, civil and humble as usual, looked as if she did not quite understand what was going on.

вАЬI am afraid Jane is not very well,вАЭ said she, вАЬbut I do not know; they tell me she is well. I dare say my daughter will be here presently, Miss Woodhouse. I hope you find a chair. I wish Hetty had not gone. I am very little ableвБ†вАФHave you a chair, maвАЩam? Do you sit where you like? I am sure she will be here presently.вАЭ

Emma seriously hoped she would. She had a momentвАЩs fear of Miss Bates keeping away from her. But Miss Bates soon cameвБ†вАФвАЬVery happy and obligedвАЭвБ†вАФbut EmmaвАЩs conscience told her that there was not the same cheerful volubility as beforeвБ†вАФless ease of look and manner. A very friendly inquiry after Miss Fairfax, she hoped, might lead the way to a return of old feelings. The touch seemed immediate.

вАЬAh! Miss Woodhouse, how kind you are!вБ†вАФI suppose you have heardвБ†вАФand are come to give us joy. This does not seem much like joy, indeed, in meвБ†вАФ(twinkling away a tear or two)вБ†вАФbut it will be very trying for us to part with her, after having had her so long, and she has a dreadful headache just now, writing all the morning:вБ†вАФsuch long letters, you know, to be written to Colonel Campbell, and Mrs.¬†Dixon. вАШMy dear,вАЩ said I, вАШyou will blind yourselfвАЩвБ†вАФfor tears were in her eyes perpetually. One cannot wonder, one cannot wonder. It is a great change; and though she is amazingly fortunateвБ†вАФsuch a situation, I suppose, as no young woman before ever met with on first going outвБ†вАФdo not think us ungrateful, Miss Woodhouse, for such surprising good fortuneвБ†вАФ(again dispersing her tears)вБ†вАФbut, poor dear soul! if you were to see what a headache she has. When one is in great pain, you know one cannot feel any blessing quite as it may deserve. She is as low as possible. To look at her, nobody would think how delighted and happy she is to have secured such a situation. You will excuse her not coming to youвБ†вАФshe is not ableвБ†вАФshe is gone into her own roomвБ†вАФI want her to lie down upon the bed. вАШMy dear,вАЩ said I, вАШI shall say you are laid down upon the bed:вАЩ but, however, she is not; she is walking about the room. But, now that she has written her letters, she says she shall soon be well. She will be extremely sorry to miss seeing you, Miss Woodhouse, but your kindness will excuse her. You were kept waiting at the doorвБ†вАФI was quite ashamedвБ†вАФbut somehow there was a little bustleвБ†вАФfor it so happened that we had not heard the knock, and till you were on the stairs, we did not know anybody was coming. вАШIt is only Mrs.¬†Cole,вАЩ said I, вАШdepend upon it. Nobody else would come so early.вАЩ вАШWell,вАЩ said she, вАШit must be borne some time or other, and it may as well be now.вАЩ But then Patty came in, and said it was you. вАШOh!вАЩ said I, вАШit is Miss Woodhouse: I am sure you will like to see her.вАЩвБ†вАФвАШI can see nobody,вАЩ said she; and up she got, and would go away; and that was what made us keep you waitingвБ†вАФand extremely sorry and ashamed we were. вАШIf you must go, my dear,вАЩ said I, вАШyou must, and I will say you are laid down upon the bed.вАЩвАКвАЭ

Emma was most sincerely interested. Her heart had been long growing kinder towards Jane; and this picture of her present sufferings acted as a cure of every former ungenerous suspicion, and left her nothing but pity; and the remembrance of the less just and less gentle sensations of the past, obliged her to admit that Jane might very naturally resolve on seeing Mrs.¬†Cole or any other steady friend, when she might not bear to see herself. She spoke as she felt, with earnest regret and solicitudeвБ†вАФsincerely wishing that the circumstances which she collected from Miss Bates to be now actually determined on, might be as much for Miss FairfaxвАЩs advantage and comfort as possible. вАЬIt must be a severe trial to them all. She had understood it was to be delayed till Colonel CampbellвАЩs return.вАЭ

вАЬSo very kind!вАЭ replied Miss Bates. вАЬBut you are always kind.вАЭ

There was no bearing such an вАЬalways;вАЭ and to break through her dreadful gratitude, Emma made the direct inquiry ofвБ†вАФ

вАЬWhereвБ†вАФmay I ask?вБ†вАФis Miss Fairfax going?вАЭ

вАЬTo a Mrs.¬†SmallridgeвБ†вАФcharming womanвБ†вАФmost superiorвБ†вАФto have the charge of her three little girlsвБ†вАФdelightful children. Impossible that any situation could be more replete with comfort; if we except, perhaps, Mrs.¬†SucklingвАЩs own family, and Mrs.¬†BraggeвАЩs; but Mrs.¬†Smallridge is intimate with both, and in the very same neighbourhood:вБ†вАФlives only four miles from Maple Grove. Jane will be only four miles from Maple Grove.вАЭ

вАЬMrs.¬†Elton, I suppose, has been the person to whom Miss Fairfax owesвБ†вАФвАЭ

вАЬYes, our good Mrs.¬†Elton. The most indefatigable, true friend. She would not take a denial. She would not let Jane say, вАШNo;вАЩ for when Jane first heard of it, (it was the day before yesterday, the very morning we were at Donwell,) when Jane first heard of it, she was quite decided against accepting the offer, and for the reasons you mention; exactly as you say, she had made up her mind to close with nothing till Colonel CampbellвАЩs return, and nothing should induce her to enter into any engagement at presentвБ†вАФand so she told Mrs.¬†Elton over and over againвБ†вАФand I am sure I had no more idea that she would change her mind!вБ†вАФbut that good Mrs.¬†Elton, whose judgment never fails her, saw farther than I did. It is not everybody that would have stood out in such a kind way as she did, and refuse to take JaneвАЩs answer; but she positively declared she would not write any such denial yesterday, as Jane wished her; she would waitвБ†вАФand, sure enough, yesterday evening it was all settled that Jane should go. Quite a surprise to me! I had not the least idea!вБ†вАФJane took Mrs.¬†Elton aside, and told her at once, that upon thinking over the advantages of Mrs.¬†SmallridgeвАЩs situation, she had come to the resolution of accepting it.вБ†вАФI did not know a word of it till it was all settled.вАЭ

вАЬYou spent the evening with Mrs.¬†Elton?вАЭ

вАЬYes, all of us; Mrs.¬†Elton would have us come. It was settled so, upon the hill, while we were walking about with Mr.¬†Knightley. вАШYou must all spend your evening with us,вАЩ said sheвБ†вАФвАШI positively must have you all come.вАЩвАКвАЭ

вАЬMr.¬†Knightley was there too, was he?вАЭ

вАЬNo, not Mr.¬†Knightley; he declined it from the first; and though I thought he would come, because Mrs.¬†Elton declared she would not let him off, he did not;вБ†вАФbut my mother, and Jane, and I, were all there, and a very agreeable evening we had. Such kind friends, you know, Miss Woodhouse, one must always find agreeable, though everybody seemed rather fagged after the morningвАЩs party. Even pleasure, you know, is fatiguingвБ†вАФand I cannot say that any of them seemed very much to have enjoyed it. However, I shall always think it a very pleasant party, and feel extremely obliged to the kind friends who included me in it.вАЭ

вАЬMiss Fairfax, I suppose, though you were not aware of it, had been making up her mind the whole day?вАЭ

вАЬI dare say she had.вАЭ

вАЬWhenever the time may come, it must be unwelcome to her and all her friendsвБ†вАФbut I hope her engagement will have every alleviation that is possibleвБ†вАФI mean, as to the character and manners of the family.вАЭ

вАЬThank you, dear Miss Woodhouse. Yes, indeed, there is everything in the world that can make her happy in it. Except the Sucklings and Bragges, there is not such another nursery establishment, so liberal and elegant, in all Mrs.¬†EltonвАЩs acquaintance. Mrs.¬†Smallridge, a most delightful woman!вБ†вАФA style of living almost equal to Maple GroveвБ†вАФand as to the children, except the little Sucklings and little Bragges, there are not such elegant sweet children anywhere. Jane will be treated with such regard and kindness!вБ†вАФIt will be nothing but pleasure, a life of pleasure.вБ†вАФAnd her salary!вБ†вАФI really cannot venture to name her salary to you, Miss Woodhouse. Even you, used as you are to great sums, would hardly believe that so much could be given to a young person like Jane.вАЭ

вАЬAh! madam,вАЭ cried Emma, вАЬif other children are at all like what I remember to have been myself, I should think five times the amount of what I have ever yet heard named as a salary on such occasions, dearly earned.вАЭ

вАЬYou are so noble in your ideas!вАЭ

вАЬAnd when is Miss Fairfax to leave you?вАЭ

вАЬVery soon, very soon, indeed; thatвАЩs the worst of it. Within a fortnight. Mrs.¬†Smallridge is in a great hurry. My poor mother does not know how to bear it. So then, I try to put it out of her thoughts, and say, Come maвАЩam, do not let us think about it any more.вАЭ

вАЬHer friends must all be sorry to lose her; and will not Colonel and Mrs.¬†Campbell be sorry to find that she has engaged herself before their return?вАЭ

вАЬYes; Jane says she is sure they will; but yet, this is such a situation as she cannot feel herself justified in declining. I was so astonished when she first told me what she had been saying to Mrs.¬†Elton, and when Mrs.¬†Elton at the same moment came congratulating me upon it! It was before teaвБ†вАФstayвБ†вАФno, it could not be before tea, because we were just going to cardsвБ†вАФand yet it was before tea, because I remember thinkingвБ†вАФOh! no, now I recollect, now I have it; something happened before tea, but not that. Mr.¬†Elton was called out of the room before tea, old John AbdyвАЩs son wanted to speak with him. Poor old John, I have a great regard for him; he was clerk to my poor father twenty-seven years; and now, poor old man, he is bedridden, and very poorly with the rheumatic gout in his jointsвБ†вАФI must go and see him today; and so will Jane, I am sure, if she gets out at all. And poor JohnвАЩs son came to talk to Mr.¬†Elton about relief from the parish; he is very well to do himself, you know, being head man at the Crown, ostler, and everything of that sort, but still he cannot keep his father without some help; and so, when Mr.¬†Elton came back, he told us what John ostler had been telling him, and then it came out about the chaise having been sent to Randalls to take Mr.¬†Frank Churchill to Richmond. That was what happened before tea. It was after tea that Jane spoke to Mrs.¬†Elton.вАЭ

Miss Bates would hardly give Emma time to say how perfectly new this circumstance was to her; but as without supposing it possible that she could be ignorant of any of the particulars of Mr.¬†Frank ChurchillвАЩs going, she proceeded to give them all, it was of no consequence.

What Mr.¬†Elton had learned from the ostler on the subject, being the accumulation of the ostlerвАЩs own knowledge, and the knowledge of the servants at Randalls, was, that a messenger had come over from Richmond soon after the return of the party from Box HillвБ†вАФwhich messenger, however, had been no more than was expected; and that Mr.¬†Churchill had sent his nephew a few lines, containing, upon the whole, a tolerable account of Mrs.¬†Churchill, and only wishing him not to delay coming back beyond the next morning early; but that Mr.¬†Frank Churchill having resolved to go home directly, without waiting at all, and his horse seeming to have got a cold, Tom had been sent off immediately for the Crown chaise, and the ostler had stood out and seen it pass by, the boy going a good pace, and driving very steady.

There was nothing in all this either to astonish or interest, and it caught EmmaвАЩs attention only as it united with the subject which already engaged her mind. The contrast between Mrs.¬†ChurchillвАЩs importance in the world, and Jane FairfaxвАЩs, struck her; one was everything, the other nothingвБ†вАФand she sat musing on the difference of womanвАЩs destiny, and quite unconscious on what her eyes were fixed, till roused by Miss BatesвАЩs saying,

вАЬAye, I see what you are thinking of, the pianoforte. What is to become of that?вБ†вАФVery true. Poor dear Jane was talking of it just now.вБ†вАФвАШYou must go,вАЩ said she. вАШYou and I must part. You will have no business here.вБ†вАФLet it stay, however,вАЩ said she; вАШgive it houseroom till Colonel Campbell comes back. I shall talk about it to him; he will settle for me; he will help me out of all my difficulties.вАЩвБ†вАФAnd to this day, I do believe, she knows not whether it was his present or his daughterвАЩs.вАЭ

Now Emma was obliged to think of the pianoforte; and the remembrance of all her former fanciful and unfair conjectures was so little pleasing, that she soon allowed herself to believe her visit had been long enough; and, with a repetition of everything that she could venture to say of the good wishes which she really felt, took leave.