XLIII

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XLIII

They had a very fine day for Box Hill; and all the other outward circumstances of arrangement, accommodation, and punctuality, were in favour of a pleasant party. Mr. Weston directed the whole, officiating safely between Hartfield and the Vicarage, and everybody was in good time. Emma and Harriet went together; Miss Bates and her niece, with the Eltons; the gentlemen on horseback. Mrs. Weston remained with Mr. Woodhouse. Nothing was wanting but to be happy when they got there. Seven miles were travelled in expectation of enjoyment, and everybody had a burst of admiration on first arriving; but in the general amount of the day there was deficiency. There was a languor, a want of spirits, a want of union, which could not be got over. They separated too much into parties. The Eltons walked together; Mr. Knightley took charge of Miss Bates and Jane; and Emma and Harriet belonged to Frank Churchill. And Mr. Weston tried, in vain, to make them harmonise better. It seemed at first an accidental division, but it never materially varied. Mr. and Mrs. Elton, indeed, showed no unwillingness to mix, and be as agreeable as they could; but during the two whole hours that were spent on the hill, there seemed a principle of separation, between the other parties, too strong for any fine prospects, or any cold collation, or any cheerful Mr. Weston, to remove.

At first it was downright dullness to Emma. She had never seen Frank Churchill so silent and stupid. He said nothing worth hearingвБ†вАФlooked without seeingвБ†вАФadmired without intelligenceвБ†вАФlistened without knowing what she said. While he was so dull, it was no wonder that Harriet should be dull likewise; and they were both insufferable.

When they all sat down it was better; to her taste a great deal better, for Frank Churchill grew talkative and gay, making her his first object. Every distinguishing attention that could be paid, was paid to her. To amuse her, and be agreeable in her eyes, seemed all that he cared forвБ†вАФand Emma, glad to be enlivened, not sorry to be flattered, was gay and easy too, and gave him all the friendly encouragement, the admission to be gallant, which she had ever given in the first and most animating period of their acquaintance; but which now, in her own estimation, meant nothing, though in the judgment of most people looking on it must have had such an appearance as no English word but flirtation could very well describe. вАЬMr.¬†Frank Churchill and Miss Woodhouse flirted together excessively.вАЭ They were laying themselves open to that very phraseвБ†вАФand to having it sent off in a letter to Maple Grove by one lady, to Ireland by another. Not that Emma was gay and thoughtless from any real felicity; it was rather because she felt less happy than she had expected. She laughed because she was disappointed; and though she liked him for his attentions, and thought them all, whether in friendship, admiration, or playfulness, extremely judicious, they were not winning back her heart. She still intended him for her friend.

вАЬHow much I am obliged to you,вАЭ said he, вАЬfor telling me to come today!вБ†вАФIf it had not been for you, I should certainly have lost all the happiness of this party. I had quite determined to go away again.вАЭ

вАЬYes, you were very cross; and I do not know what about, except that you were too late for the best strawberries. I was a kinder friend than you deserved. But you were humble. You begged hard to be commanded to come.вАЭ

вАЬDonвАЩt say I was cross. I was fatigued. The heat overcame me.вАЭ

вАЬIt is hotter today.вАЭ

вАЬNot to my feelings. I am perfectly comfortable today.вАЭ

вАЬYou are comfortable because you are under command.вАЭ

вАЬYour command?вБ†вАФYes.вАЭ

вАЬPerhaps I intended you to say so, but I meant self-command. You had, somehow or other, broken bounds yesterday, and run away from your own management; but today you are got back againвБ†вАФand as I cannot be always with you, it is best to believe your temper under your own command rather than mine.вАЭ

вАЬIt comes to the same thing. I can have no self-command without a motive. You order me, whether you speak or not. And you can be always with me. You are always with me.вАЭ

вАЬDating from three oвАЩclock yesterday. My perpetual influence could not begin earlier, or you would not have been so much out of humour before.вАЭ

вАЬThree oвАЩclock yesterday! That is your date. I thought I had seen you first in February.вАЭ

вАЬYour gallantry is really unanswerable. But (lowering her voice)вБ†вАФnobody speaks except ourselves, and it is rather too much to be talking nonsense for the entertainment of seven silent people.вАЭ

вАЬI say nothing of which I am ashamed,вАЭ replied he, with lively impudence. вАЬI saw you first in February. Let everybody on the Hill hear me if they can. Let my accents swell to Mickleham on one side, and Dorking on the other. I saw you first in February.вАЭ And then whisperingвБ†вАФвАЬOur companions are excessively stupid. What shall we do to rouse them? Any nonsense will serve. They shall talk. Ladies and gentlemen, I am ordered by Miss Woodhouse (who, wherever she is, presides) to say, that she desires to know what you are all thinking of?вАЭ

Some laughed, and answered good-humouredly. Miss Bates said a great deal; Mrs.¬†Elton swelled at the idea of Miss WoodhouseвАЩs presiding; Mr.¬†KnightleyвАЩs answer was the most distinct.

вАЬIs Miss Woodhouse sure that she would like to hear what we are all thinking of?вАЭ

вАЬOh! no, noвАЭвБ†вАФcried Emma, laughing as carelessly as she couldвБ†вАФвАЬUpon no account in the world. It is the very last thing I would stand the brunt of just now. Let me hear anything rather than what you are all thinking of. I will not say quite all. There are one or two, perhaps, (glancing at Mr.¬†Weston and Harriet,) whose thoughts I might not be afraid of knowing.вАЭ

вАЬIt is a sort of thing,вАЭ cried Mrs.¬†Elton emphatically, вАЬwhich I should not have thought myself privileged to inquire into. Though, perhaps, as the Chaperon of the partyвБ†вАФI never was in any circleвБ†вАФexploring partiesвБ†вАФyoung ladiesвБ†вАФmarried womenвБ†вАФвАЭ

Her mutterings were chiefly to her husband; and he murmured, in reply,

вАЬVery true, my love, very true. Exactly so, indeedвБ†вАФquite unheard ofвБ†вАФbut some ladies say anything. Better pass it off as a joke. Everybody knows what is due to you.вАЭ

вАЬIt will not do,вАЭ whispered Frank to Emma; вАЬthey are most of them affronted. I will attack them with more address. Ladies and gentlemenвБ†вАФI am ordered by Miss Woodhouse to say, that she waives her right of knowing exactly what you may all be thinking of, and only requires something very entertaining from each of you, in a general way. Here are seven of you, besides myself, (who, she is pleased to say, am very entertaining already,) and she only demands from each of you either one thing very clever, be it prose or verse, original or repeatedвБ†вАФor two things moderately cleverвБ†вАФor three things very dull indeed, and she engages to laugh heartily at them all.вАЭ

вАЬOh! very well,вАЭ exclaimed Miss Bates, вАЬthen I need not be uneasy. вАШThree things very dull indeed.вАЩ That will just do for me, you know. I shall be sure to say three dull things as soon as ever I open my mouth, shanвАЩt I? (looking round with the most good-humoured dependence on everybodyвАЩs assent)вБ†вАФDo not you all think I shall?вАЭ

Emma could not resist.

вАЬAh! maвАЩam, but there may be a difficulty. Pardon meвБ†вАФbut you will be limited as to numberвБ†вАФonly three at once.вАЭ

Miss Bates, deceived by the mock ceremony of her manner, did not immediately catch her meaning; but, when it burst on her, it could not anger, though a slight blush showed that it could pain her.

вАЬAh!вБ†вАФwellвБ†вАФto be sure. Yes, I see what she means, (turning to Mr.¬†Knightley,) and I will try to hold my tongue. I must make myself very disagreeable, or she would not have said such a thing to an old friend.вАЭ

вАЬI like your plan,вАЭ cried Mr.¬†Weston. вАЬAgreed, agreed. I will do my best. I am making a conundrum. How will a conundrum reckon?вАЭ

вАЬLow, I am afraid, sir, very low,вАЭ answered his son;вБ†вАФвАЬbut we shall be indulgentвБ†вАФespecially to anyone who leads the way.вАЭ

вАЬNo, no,вАЭ said Emma, вАЬit will not reckon low. A conundrum of Mr.¬†WestonвАЩs shall clear him and his next neighbour. Come, sir, pray let me hear it.вАЭ

вАЬI doubt its being very clever myself,вАЭ said Mr.¬†Weston. вАЬIt is too much a matter of fact, but here it is.вБ†вАФWhat two letters of the alphabet are there, that express perfection?вАЭ

вАЬWhat two letters!вБ†вАФexpress perfection! I am sure I do not know.вАЭ

вАЬAh! you will never guess. You, (to Emma), I am certain, will never guess.вБ†вАФI will tell you.вБ†вАФM and AвБ†вАФEm-ma.вБ†вАФDo you understand?вАЭ

Understanding and gratification came together. It might be a very indifferent piece of wit, but Emma found a great deal to laugh at and enjoy in itвБ†вАФand so did Frank and Harriet.вБ†вАФIt did not seem to touch the rest of the party equally; some looked very stupid about it, and Mr.¬†Knightley gravely said,

вАЬThis explains the sort of clever thing that is wanted, and Mr.¬†Weston has done very well for himself; but he must have knocked up everybody else. Perfection should not have come quite so soon.вАЭ

вАЬOh! for myself, I protest I must be excused,вАЭ said Mrs.¬†Elton; вАЬI really cannot attemptвБ†вАФI am not at all fond of the sort of thing. I had an acrostic once sent to me upon my own name, which I was not at all pleased with. I knew who it came from. An abominable puppy!вБ†вАФYou know who I mean (nodding to her husband). These kind of things are very well at Christmas, when one is sitting round the fire; but quite out of place, in my opinion, when one is exploring about the country in summer. Miss Woodhouse must excuse me. I am not one of those who have witty things at everybodyвАЩs service. I do not pretend to be a wit. I have a great deal of vivacity in my own way, but I really must be allowed to judge when to speak and when to hold my tongue. Pass us, if you please, Mr.¬†Churchill. Pass Mr.¬†E., Knightley, Jane, and myself. We have nothing clever to sayвБ†вАФnot one of us.вАЭ

вАЬYes, yes, pray pass me,вАЭ added her husband, with a sort of sneering consciousness; вАЬI have nothing to say that can entertain Miss Woodhouse, or any other young lady. An old married manвБ†вАФquite good for nothing. Shall we walk, Augusta?вАЭ

вАЬWith all my heart. I am really tired of exploring so long on one spot. Come, Jane, take my other arm.вАЭ

Jane declined it, however, and the husband and wife walked off. вАЬHappy couple!вАЭ said Frank Churchill, as soon as they were out of hearing:вБ†вАФвАЬHow well they suit one another!вБ†вАФVery luckyвБ†вАФmarrying as they did, upon an acquaintance formed only in a public place!вБ†вАФThey only knew each other, I think, a few weeks in Bath! Peculiarly lucky!вБ†вАФfor as to any real knowledge of a personвАЩs disposition that Bath, or any public place, can giveвБ†вАФit is all nothing; there can be no knowledge. It is only by seeing women in their own homes, among their own set, just as they always are, that you can form any just judgment. Short of that, it is all guess and luckвБ†вАФand will generally be ill-luck. How many a man has committed himself on a short acquaintance, and rued it all the rest of his life!вАЭ

Miss Fairfax, who had seldom spoken before, except among her own confederates, spoke now.

вАЬSuch things do occur, undoubtedly.вАЭвБ†вАФShe was stopped by a cough. Frank Churchill turned towards her to listen.

вАЬYou were speaking,вАЭ said he, gravely. She recovered her voice.

вАЬI was only going to observe, that though such unfortunate circumstances do sometimes occur both to men and women, I cannot imagine them to be very frequent. A hasty and imprudent attachment may ariseвБ†вАФbut there is generally time to recover from it afterwards. I would be understood to mean, that it can be only weak, irresolute characters, (whose happiness must be always at the mercy of chance,) who will suffer an unfortunate acquaintance to be an inconvenience, an oppression forever.вАЭ

He made no answer; merely looked, and bowed in submission; and soon afterwards said, in a lively tone,

вАЬWell, I have so little confidence in my own judgment, that whenever I marry, I hope somebody will choose my wife for me. Will you? (turning to Emma.) Will you choose a wife for me?вБ†вАФI am sure I should like anybody fixed on by you. You provide for the family, you know, (with a smile at his father). Find somebody for me. I am in no hurry. Adopt her, educate her.вАЭ

вАЬAnd make her like myself.вАЭ

вАЬBy all means, if you can.вАЭ

вАЬVery well. I undertake the commission. You shall have a charming wife.вАЭ

вАЬShe must be very lively, and have hazel eyes. I care for nothing else. I shall go abroad for a couple of yearsвБ†вАФand when I return, I shall come to you for my wife. Remember.вАЭ

Emma was in no danger of forgetting. It was a commission to touch every favourite feeling. Would not Harriet be the very creature described? Hazel eyes excepted, two years more might make her all that he wished. He might even have Harriet in his thoughts at the moment; who could say? Referring the education to her seemed to imply it.

вАЬNow, maвАЩam,вАЭ said Jane to her aunt, вАЬshall we join Mrs.¬†Elton?вАЭ

вАЬIf you please, my dear. With all my heart. I am quite ready. I was ready to have gone with her, but this will do just as well. We shall soon overtake her. There she isвБ†вАФno, thatвАЩs somebody else. ThatвАЩs one of the ladies in the Irish car party, not at all like her.вБ†вАФWell, I declareвБ†вАФвАЭ

They walked off, followed in half a minute by Mr.¬†Knightley. Mr.¬†Weston, his son, Emma, and Harriet, only remained; and the young manвАЩs spirits now rose to a pitch almost unpleasant. Even Emma grew tired at last of flattery and merriment, and wished herself rather walking quietly about with any of the others, or sitting almost alone, and quite unattended to, in tranquil observation of the beautiful views beneath her. The appearance of the servants looking out for them to give notice of the carriages was a joyful sight; and even the bustle of collecting and preparing to depart, and the solicitude of Mrs.¬†Elton to have her carriage first, were gladly endured, in the prospect of the quiet drive home which was to close the very questionable enjoyments of this day of pleasure. Such another scheme, composed of so many ill-assorted people, she hoped never to be betrayed into again.

While waiting for the carriage, she found Mr. Knightley by her side. He looked around, as if to see that no one were near, and then said,

вАЬEmma, I must once more speak to you as I have been used to do: a privilege rather endured than allowed, perhaps, but I must still use it. I cannot see you acting wrong, without a remonstrance. How could you be so unfeeling to Miss Bates? How could you be so insolent in your wit to a woman of her character, age, and situation?вБ†вАФEmma, I had not thought it possible.вАЭ

Emma recollected, blushed, was sorry, but tried to laugh it off.

вАЬNay, how could I help saying what I did?вБ†вАФNobody could have helped it. It was not so very bad. I dare say she did not understand me.вАЭ

вАЬI assure you she did. She felt your full meaning. She has talked of it since. I wish you could have heard how she talked of itвБ†вАФwith what candour and generosity. I wish you could have heard her honouring your forbearance, in being able to pay her such attentions, as she was forever receiving from yourself and your father, when her society must be so irksome.вАЭ

вАЬOh!вАЭ cried Emma, вАЬI know there is not a better creature in the world: but you must allow, that what is good and what is ridiculous are most unfortunately blended in her.вАЭ

вАЬThey are blended,вАЭ said he, вАЬI acknowledge; and, were she prosperous, I could allow much for the occasional prevalence of the ridiculous over the good. Were she a woman of fortune, I would leave every harmless absurdity to take its chance, I would not quarrel with you for any liberties of manner. Were she your equal in situationвБ†вАФbut, Emma, consider how far this is from being the case. She is poor; she has sunk from the comforts she was born to; and, if she live to old age, must probably sink more. Her situation should secure your compassion. It was badly done, indeed! You, whom she had known from an infant, whom she had seen grow up from a period when her notice was an honour, to have you now, in thoughtless spirits, and the pride of the moment, laugh at her, humble herвБ†вАФand before her niece, tooвБ†вАФand before others, many of whom (certainly some,) would be entirely guided by your treatment of her.вБ†вАФThis is not pleasant to you, EmmaвБ†вАФand it is very far from pleasant to me; but I must, I willвБ†вАФI will tell you truths while I can; satisfied with proving myself your friend by very faithful counsel, and trusting that you will some time or other do me greater justice than you can do now.вАЭ

While they talked, they were advancing towards the carriage; it was ready; and, before she could speak again, he had handed her in. He had misinterpreted the feelings which had kept her face averted, and her tongue motionless. They were combined only of anger against herself, mortification, and deep concern. She had not been able to speak; and, on entering the carriage, sunk back for a moment overcomeвБ†вАФthen reproaching herself for having taken no leave, making no acknowledgment, parting in apparent sullenness, she looked out with voice and hand eager to show a difference; but it was just too late. He had turned away, and the horses were in motion. She continued to look back, but in vain; and soon, with what appeared unusual speed, they were halfway down the hill, and everything left far behind. She was vexed beyond what could have been expressedвБ†вАФalmost beyond what she could conceal. Never had she felt so agitated, mortified, grieved, at any circumstance in her life. She was most forcibly struck. The truth of this representation there was no denying. She felt it at her heart. How could she have been so brutal, so cruel to Miss Bates! How could she have exposed herself to such ill opinion in anyone she valued! And how suffer him to leave her without saying one word of gratitude, of concurrence, of common kindness!

Time did not compose her. As she reflected more, she seemed but to feel it more. She never had been so depressed. Happily it was not necessary to speak. There was only Harriet, who seemed not in spirits herself, fagged, and very willing to be silent; and Emma felt the tears running down her cheeks almost all the way home, without being at any trouble to check them, extraordinary as they were.