Mr. Knightley's Diary Read online

  Elton is another one of Emma's friends who is easily pleased, to add to her growing collection! I only hope my presence will be enough to counteract the harmful effects of all this adulation.

  NOVEMBER

  Tuesday 3 November

  At last I had time to think about the footpath to Langham. I have been meaning to re-lay it for some time. At present, it cuts through the meadow, which I do not like. I want to move it so that it skirts the meadow instead. I told William Larkins of my plan, and he approved of it, but I have decided to wait until John has seen it before going ahead with the work, in case he has any better suggestion to make.

  After spending the day on Abbey matters, I dined with Graham and discovered that his sister had returned to Bath. Graham had a friend staying with him, a Mr Longridge; a quiet and gentlemanlike man. The three of us spent a pleasant evening with the Otways and Coles, who were also of the party. It was not as enjoyable as an evening spent at Hartfield, but it was very agreeable none the less.

  Friday 6 November

  I had to see Mr Weston about a matter of business and so I called on him this afternoon. He was out, but I found Mrs Weston and Miss Bates in the drawing-room. Miss Bates was in a state of great agitation.

  'She said nothing about it in her letters, but then she has never liked to worry us--so considerate--but Mr Churchill--oh yes, indeed it must be so, but what do you think, Mr Knightley?'

  I had no idea what she was talking about, and so I could not answer her question, but Mrs Weston explained that she had had a letter from her stepson, Frank Churchill, and that, in it, he had mentioned that he had been a member of a boating-party. There was nothing in that, except that he had recounted an incident which had occurred when he had gone out on the sea. There had been an accident, or almost an accident, and a young lady, who was also a member of the party, had nearly been dashed from the vessel. Churchill had caught her, and so no harm had been done, but the strange thing was, that the young lady who had nearly been swept overboard was Miss Fairfax. Churchill had happened to meet her party whilst at Weymouth, and they had both happened to form a part of the boating-trip.

  'Mrs Weston thought I must have heard of it--was sure Jane would have mentioned it in one of her letters--but I had never heard anything about it. And now I am not easy about dear Jane,' Miss Bates said. 'Do you think I should tell her to come home to Highbury at once, Mr Knightley? Only the Campbells have been so kind in asking her to stay, even though Miss Campbell is married and gone to live in Ireland, that I think she will not like to offend them, but I cannot bear the thought of them taking her on another boating-expedition and poor Jane being drowned!'

  I protested at this terrible speculation, and asked her when Jane was due to leave Weymouth.

  'She has already left,' said Miss Bates. 'I had a letter from her only the other day, and in it she distinctly told me they were leaving Weymouth on the morrow, so that by the time I received the letter she would be back at home again. Oh, poor Jane!'

  'Then I should not worry any more about it,' I told her. I added: 'There is no reason why you should not invite her to Highbury, though, if you think the Campbells can spare her.'

  Not only would it set Miss Bates's mind at ease, but it would give me great pleasure to have Miss Fairfax here. Emma could not fail to see the difference between Miss Fairfax and Miss Smith, and I am persuaded that, even with her prejudice, she would soon learn to value Miss Fairfax's company.

  'I have already asked her to come to us,' said Miss Bates.

  'And have you received a reply?'

  'Yes. Alas, she cannot oblige us. She has already promised the Campbells to spend Christmas with them,' said Miss Bates.

  I was disappointed, but it could not be helped.

  Miss Bates's alarm gradually faded, and by the time Mr Weston came in, she was calm once more.

  He and I retreated to his study to talk business. When we had done, I mentioned the letter and I found that he had not yet seen it.

  'What! Frank! Saved Miss Fairfax!' said he, highly gratified. 'Never was a man more fortunate in his son. You should have one yourself, Knightley. Marry! Take a wife! Mrs Lovage would be willing,' he added.

  'Mrs Lovage has returned to Bath,' I said.

  'She would come back quickly enough, if she thought there was hope.'

  'Can no one think of anything but marriage?' I exclaimed. I did not mean to speak so brusquely, but I was disappointed that I had not been able to feel any thing for Mrs Lovage. 'You and John are trying to find me a wife, and Emma--'

  'Emma?' he asked.

  I had no intention of disclosing her plans to find Elton a wife, for they would not please Elton if he came to hear of them. He might be deferential in his behaviour towards her because of her standing in the neighbourhood, but even that would not reconcile him to the idea of her meddling in his affairs.

  'Emma is keen to make another match, after claiming to have made yours.'

  'Perhaps she did,' he said jovially.

  'She thought of it, that is all!' I rebuked him.

  'If she wants to make a match, she should make one for you!' he returned.

  'Hah! She knows me better than to think I would have someone of her choosing,' I said.

  'She chose very well for me.'

  I saw there was no arguing with him, and I said no more. Let him think Emma arranged his marriage if he wishes! It can do no harm, as long as he does not say so to her.

  Saturday 7 November

  This evening, Miss Bates was still talking of her alarm over Jane's accident, and she recounted the incident over dinner at Graham's. Mr and Mrs Cole said everything necessary to reassure her, and she exclaimed that she did not know what she would do without such good friends.

  'A fine woman,' remarked Mr Longridge of Miss Bates, once the ladies had withdrawn. 'She reminds me of my dear wife.'

  He blew his nose, and became quiet.

  I thought he had been recently bereaved, but I later learnt that his wife died twenty years ago. However, he still speaks of her with great affection.

  The talk after dinner was of politics and business until we joined the ladies, whereupon Mrs Weston sang for us. I joined her, and I felt it was an evening well spent.

  Thursday 12 November

  I walked in on a pretty scene this morning when I called at Hartfield. Emma was netting a purse, and Harriet was hemming a handkerchief.

  'You find us usefully employed,' said Emma.

  'I do indeed.'

  Both girls were in good spirits. I could not begrudge Emma her friendship when I saw how happy she was, though I still wished Harriet was a more suitable companion.

  Harriet was sewing very prettily, however, and spoke to me sensibly about her work. If she became vague when I asked her what she had been reading, I did not hold it against her. Emma's plan for her education was very grand, and never likely to succeed.

  I talked to Mr Woodhouse, attending to some papers that had been troubling him, and stayed at Hartfield for luncheon. Mr Woodhouse was alarmed at the quantity of meat I ate, averring it would do me no good and begging me to join him in a bowl of gruel, but Emma distracted him by talking of Isabella's forthcoming visit, and I was able to finish my meal in peace.

  Saturday 21 November

  The plans for the new barn at Abbey Mill Farm are coming on well. When Robert Martin called at the Abbey to speak to me about them, we looked at them together.

  I happened to mention that I had seen Miss Smith at Hartfield, and he said that his sisters would be glad to hear it. He said that he was going to Kingston after leaving me, and let slip that he intended to buy a book she had recommended.

  'What is it?' I enquired, wondering whether it was a book on Harriet's reading list.

  He went red and fingered his cravat, then told me its name rather shamefacedly.

  I could not help smiling. Emma may not have been able to induce her friend to read Shakespeare, but Harriet has managed to persuade Robert Martin to read
The Romance of the Forest!

  Wednesday 25 November

  Of all the evenings it is possible to spend, a companionable evening with friends is the best. I spent one such evening at Hartfield today. Mr Woodhouse was in high spirits, having been assured by Perry that his health was good, and Emma was sitting by the fire, sketching. Harriet was copying some pictures from a fashion journal. I was reading the newspaper, and reading out such things as I thought might interest them.

  After a while, I laid my newspaper aside and went over to look at Emma's work. I saw that she had been sketching her father.

  'So you are serious about resuming your sketching?' I said.

  'I am. I felt an urge to take a likeness of Harriet,' she said, 'and I wanted to refresh my hand.'

  I found myself hoping she would persevere with the undertaking, for it had a spirited style, but alas! I thought her likeness of Harriet would probably join the other half-finished sketches in her portfolio.

  As I walked back to the Abbey I was well-pleased with life. The weather was fine, I had the pleasure of a visit from John and Isabella to look forward to, and in the meantime I had many more evenings to spend at Hartfield.

  Thursday 26 November

  When I visited Hartfield this evening, I found Emma sitting with her father, Harriet and Elton. As I walked into the room, I saw that Harriet was entertaining Mr Woodhouse, whilst Emma talked to Elton.

  'Harriet looks very well this evening,' I heard her say, as I sat down and began looking at the newspaper.

  'Yes, indeed,' replied her companion.

  'I thought she was looking rather pale this morning, so I suggested we take a walk. I believe it has brightened her complexion.'

  'Admirable!' he said. 'A walk! Exercise! Just the thing.'

  'Do you not think her complexion has been brightened by it?' she pressed him, as he did not follow up her hint.

  It was at this moment I began to suspect her motives for encouraging him to notice her friend, and to think that she wanted to make a match between Harriet and Elton!

  I did not know whether to feel annoyance or pity. Emma had mistaken her man if she thought Elton would marry a parlour boarder, a young girl without name, birth or dowry to recommend her.

  Elton had no suspicion, however, and was, as always, eager to defer to Miss Woodhouse of Hartfield.

  'Indeed I do. I noticed her complexion particularly. Why, it has been brightened by fresh air and exercise! I thought as I came into the room. It was just what she needed to bring out her beauty. So good of you to take the trouble!'

  'I am sure it was good of Harriet to take the time to walk with me,' she said, firmly turning the conversation back to Harriet's advantages.

  Hah! I thought in amusement. Now, Elton, turn that into a compliment to Emma if you can!

  I continued to be amused by them, as they carried on at cross purposes for the next quarter of an hour, Emma trying to make a match between a glove and a mitten, and Elton to raise his standing in the village by flattering Miss Woodhouse. I waited for them to grow tired of it, but as they showed no signs of doing so, at last I emerged from my newspaper and forced them to engage in more general and rational conversation.

  Friday 27 November

  Emma's matchmaking continued today and Elton, poor man, had no idea of what she was about.

  She asked him outright what he thought of her little friend. It was impossible to make anything of his convoluted answer, for although he said how much she had improved, and how she had now acquired the polish she had been wanting, his every remark reflected well on Emma: it was Emma who had improved her; Emma who had given her polish.

  As the evening wore on, I began to have a suspicion that Elton was doing more than flattering a well-connected young woman. I began to think he was lifting his eyes to Emma herself.

  Perhaps I was imagining it, but there seemed something more than an ill-judged civility in his words, perhaps the admiration of a man who hoped to be admitted as a suitor?

  The latter would be interesting indeed! He has no hope of succeeding, but the very idea of his assuming that he has a chance of success will teach Emma a lesson in humility which I can never hope to surpass.

  What, Miss Woodhouse of Hartfield to marry Mr Elton! She would be horrified if she knew.

  I mean to pay them close attention, and see how things develop!

  DECEMBER

  Tuesday 1 December

  It seems that Emma's present interest in sketching is to last for a little longer, at least. I found her taking Harriet's likeness, as she had intended, when I called on her this morning. Elton, as is usual these days, was in attendance.

  Mr Woodhouse and I withdrew for a time as I helped him to write some letters of business, and then we both returned to the drawing-room. We found Emma and her friend hard at work. Harriet was posing, and Emma's sketch was already well-developed.

  Elton was standing behind Emma, fidgeting, and not knowing what to do with himself.

  He spoke to me when I entered the room, seemingly glad of something to say.

  'Miss Woodhouse has decided to paint her friend full-length, like the portrait of Mr John Knightley.'

  I went over to Emma and looked at what she had done. Mrs Weston was watching the progress of the drawing, too, and her eye had not failed to see that Emma's portrait was flattering.

  'Miss Woodhouse has given her friend the only beauty she wanted,' she said to Elton. 'The expression of the eye is most correct, but Harriet has not those eyebrows and eyelashes. It is the fault of her face that she has them not.'

  'Do you think so?' he replied 'I cannot agree with you. It appears to me a most perfect resemblance in every feature. I never saw such a likeness in my life. We must allow for the effect of shade, you know.'

  Something had to be done to counteract this flattery, and so I said: 'You have made her too tall, Emma.'

  I could tell by her expression that she knew she had, but she would not admit it.

  'Oh, no! certainly not too tall; not in the least too tall. Consider, she is sitting down--which naturally presents a different--which in short gives exactly the idea--and the proportions must be preserved, you know. Proportions, foreshortening. Oh, no! it gives one exactly the idea of such a height as Harriet's. Exactly so indeed!' said her would-be suitor.

  'It is very pretty,' said Mr Woodhouse, always ready to praise his daughter. 'So prettily done! Just as your drawings always are, my dear. I do not know anybody who draws so well as you do. The only thing I do not thoroughly like is, that she seems to be sitting out of doors, with only a little shawl over her shoulders. It makes one think she must catch cold.'

  'But, my dear Papa, it is supposed to be summer; a warm day in summer. Look at the tree.'

  'But it is never safe to sit out of doors, my dear,' said he.

  His is a nervous disposition indeed. It not only objects to people sitting out of doors, but it objects to them being drawn as if they were out of doors, when in reality they are sitting inside by a fire!

  Elton plunged in again.

  'You, sir, may say any thing,' he cried, 'but I must confess that I regard it as a most happy thought, the placing of Harriet out of doors; and the tree is touched with such inimitable spirit! Any other situation would have been much less in character. The naivety of Harriet's manners--and altogether--Oh, it is most admirable! I cannot keep my eyes from it. I never saw such a likeness.'

  I did not know whether to be amused or exasperated by his nonsense, any more than I knew whether to be amused or exasperated by the way Emma received it. She took it all as compliments for her friend, little perceiving that the flattery was all for her. I am sure of it: Emma is Elton's object.

  If she was not so young, and so dear to me, I would be amused and nothing else, but I am dismayed on Emma's behalf. She thinks she has only to throw Elton and Harriet together, and Harriet's pretty face will do the rest. But Elton will settle for a pretty fortune, rather than a pretty face, and oh! Emma, what will you
think, when you perceive the truth?

  'We must have it framed,' said Elton.

  'Oh, yes, the very thing,' said Emma. 'It must be done well. I owe my friend no less.'

  'Can you not ask Isabella to have it done in London?' asked Mrs Weston.

  This Mr Woodhouse could not bear.

  'She must not stir outside in the fogs of December. She will take cold. I am surprised at your thinking of it,' he said to Mrs Weston reproachfully. 'You would never have thought of such a thing if you had stayed here with us at Hartfield.'

  Mrs Weston was admonished. I was about to offer my services, as I had to go to London, when Elton stepped in and offered to take it himself.

  'You are too good,' said Emma, smiling all the while. 'I would not think of troubling you.'

  'It is no trouble.'

  'If you are sure, then it would be a relief to have someone of superior taste to undertake the commission,' she said, and I saw a look of pleasure cross his face. 'I would undertake to wrap the picture very well, so that it will not give you too much trouble.'

  'No trouble is too much. That is to say it is no trouble, no trouble at all,' he said. Then finished with a sigh, saying: 'What a precious deposit!'

  I thought he had gone too far, and I was sure Emma would balk at that, but though she looked rather surprised she said nothing.

  I almost said something, but I decided against it, for no doubt the muddle will be cleared up soon. Harriet will take no hurt from it, for I am sure Emma will not have raised false hopes by mentioning her scheme to her friend--that would be going too far, even for Emma!--but there will be a reckoning with Elton, and I hope Emma will be chastened. Once she stops trying to live Elton's life, I hope she might put more effort into living her own.

  Thursday 3 December

  I was more pleased than ever that Emma had given a little polish to Harriet, and that she had removed some of her schoolgirl habits, for I have had a very interesting visit from Robert Martin today. He called at Donwell Abbey this evening and he asked if I could spare him ten minutes. I told him that I could spare him as much time as he needed, thinking he had come to speak to me about the farm. I was much surprised, then, when he stood in front of my desk without any of his usual confidence, indeed much like a schoolboy standing in front of the desk of his master. He turned his hat in his hand as if he did not know where to begin, and I was astonished to see a slight flush spring to his cheek. The cause of his agitation soon became clear.