Emma and the Werewolves (27 page)

“
A very pleasant evening,”
he began, as soon as Mr. Woodhouse had been talked into what was
necessary, told that he understood, and the papers swept away;
“particularly pleasant. You and Miss Fairfax gave us some very good
music. I do not know a more luxurious state, sir, than sitting at
one’s ease to be entertained a whole evening by two such young
women; sometimes with music and sometimes with conversation. I am
sure Miss Fairfax must have found the evening pleasant, Emma. You
left nothing undone. 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,”
said Emma, smiling; “but I hope I am not often deficient in what is
due to guests at Hartfield.”

“
No, my dear,” said her
father instantly; “that I am sure you are not. There is nobody half
so attentive and civil as you are. If any thing, you are too
attentive. The muffin last night—if it had been handed round once,
I think it would have been enough.”

“
No,” said Mr. Knightley,
nearly at the same time; “you are not often deficient; not often
deficient either in manner or comprehension. I think you understand
me, therefore.”

An arch look expressed “I understand you
well enough;” but she said only, “Miss Fairfax is reserved.”

“
I always told you she
was—a little; but you will soon overcome all that part of her
reserve which ought to be overcome, all that has its foundation in
diffidence. What arises from discretion must be
honoured.”

“
You think her diffident. I
do not see it.”

“
My dear Emma,” said he,
moving from his chair into one close by her, “you are not going to
tell me, I hope, that you had not a pleasant evening.”

“
Oh! no; I was pleased with
my own perseverance in asking questions; and amused to think how
little information I obtained.”

“
I am disappointed,” was
his only answer.

“
I hope every body had a
pleasant evening,” said Mr. Woodhouse, in his quiet way. “I had.
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. Miss
Bates was very chatty and good-humoured, as she always is, though
she speaks rather too quick. However, she is very agreeable, and
Mrs. Bates too, in a different way. 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. She must have found the
evening agreeable, Mr. Knightley, because she had Emma.”

“
True, sir; and Emma,
because she had Miss Fairfax.”

Emma saw his anxiety, and
wishing to appease it, at least for the present, said, and with a
sincerity which no one could question—

“
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.”

Mr. Knightley looked as if
he were more gratified than he cared to express; and before he
could make any reply, Mr. Woodhouse, whose thoughts were on the
Bates’s, said—

“
It is a great pity that
their circumstances should be so confined! a great pity indeed! and
I have often wished but it is so little one can venture to
do—small, trifling presents, of any thing uncommon—Now we have
killed a porker, and Emma thinks of sending them a loin or a leg;
it is very small and delicate—Hartfield pork is not like any other
pork—but still it is pork—and, my dear Emma, unless one could be
sure of their making it into steaks, nicely fried, as ours are
fried, without the smallest grease, and not roast it, for no
stomach can bear roast pork—I think we had better send the leg—do
not you think so, my dear?”

“
My dear papa, I sent the
whole hind-quarter. I knew you would wish it. There will be the leg
to be salted, you know, which is so very nice, and the loin to be
dressed directly in any manner they like.”

“
That’s right, my dear,
very right. I had not thought of it before, but that is the best
way. They must not over-salt the leg; and then, if it is not
over-salted, and if it is very thoroughly boiled, just as Serle
boils ours, and eaten very moderately of, with a boiled turnip, and
a little carrot or parsnip, I do not consider it
unwholesome.”

“
Emma,” said Mr. Knightley
presently, “I have a piece of news for you. You like news—and I
heard an article in my way hither that I think will interest
you.”

“
News! Oh! yes, I always
like news. What is it? why do you smile so? where did you hear it?
at Randalls?”

He had time only to say,

“
No, not at Randalls; I
have not been near Randalls,” when the door was thrown open, and
Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax walked into the room. Full of thanks,
and full of news, Miss Bates knew not which to give quickest. Mr.
Knightley soon saw that he had lost his moment, and that not
another syllable of communication could rest with him.

“
Oh! my dear sir, how are
you this morning? My dear Miss Woodhouse—I come quite over-powered.
Such a beautiful hind-quarter of pork! You are too bountiful! Have
you heard the news? Mr. Elton is going to be married.”

Emma had not had time even to think of Mr.
Elton, and she was so completely surprized that she could not avoid
a little start, and a little blush, at the sound.

“
There is my news: I
thought it would interest you,” said Mr. Knightley, with a smile
which implied a conviction of some part of what had passed between
them.

“
But where could you hear
it?” cried Miss Bates. “Where could you possibly hear it, Mr.
Knightley? For it is not five minutes since I received Mrs. Cole’s
note—no, it cannot be more than five—or at least ten—for I had got
my bonnet and spencer on, just ready to come out—I was only gone
down to speak to Patty again about the pork—Jane was standing in
the passage—were not you, Jane? for my mother was so afraid that we
had not any salting-pan large enough. So I said I would go down and
see, and Jane said, ‘Shall I go down instead? for I think you have
a little cold, and Patty has been washing the kitchen.’ ‘Oh! my
dear,’ said I—well, and just then came the note. A Miss
Hawkins—that’s all I know. A Miss Hawkins of Bath. But, Mr.
Knightley, how could you possibly have heard it? for the very
moment Mr. Cole told Mrs. Cole of it, she sat down and wrote to me.
A Miss Hawkins—”

“
I was with Mr. Cole on
business an hour and a half ago. He had just read Elton’s letter as
I was shewn in, and handed it to me directly.”

“
Well! that is quite—I
suppose there never was a piece of news more generally interesting.
My dear sir, you really are too bountiful. My mother desires her
very best compliments and regards, and a thousand thanks, and says
you really quite oppress her.”

“
We consider our Hartfield
pork,” replied Mr. Woodhouse, “indeed it certainly is, so very
superior to all other pork, that Emma and I cannot have a greater
pleasure than—”

“
Oh! my dear sir, as my
mother says, our friends are only too good to us. If ever there
were people who, without having great wealth themselves, had every
thing they could wish for, I am sure it is us. We may well say that
‘our lot is cast in a goodly heritage.’ Well, Mr. Knightley, and so
you actually saw the letter; well—”

“
It was short—merely to
announce—but cheerful, exulting, of course.” Here was a sly glance
at Emma. “He had been so fortunate as to—I forget the precise
words—one has no business to remember them. The information was, as
you state, that he was going to be married to a Miss Hawkins. By
his style, I should imagine it just settled.”

“
Mr. Elton going to be
married!” said Emma, as soon as she could speak. “He will have
every body’s wishes for his happiness.”

“
He is very young to
settle,” was Mr. Woodhouse’s observation. “He had better not be in
a hurry. He seemed to me very well off as he was. We were always
glad to see him at Hartfield.”

“
A new neighbour for us
all, Miss Woodhouse!” said Miss Bates, joyfully; “my mother is so
pleased! she says she cannot bear to have the poor old Vicarage
without a mistress. This is great news, indeed. Jane, you have
never seen Mr. Elton! no wonder that you have such a curiosity to
see him.”

Jane’s curiosity did not
appear of that absorbing nature as wholly to occupy her.

“
No—I have never seen Mr.
Elton,” she replied, starting on this appeal; “is he—is he a tall
man?”

“
Who shall answer that
question?” cried Emma. “My father would say ‘yes,’ Mr. Knightley
‘no;’ and Miss Bates and I that he is just the happy medium. When
you have been here a little longer, Miss Fairfax, you will
understand that Mr. Elton is the standard of perfection in
Highbury, both in person and mind.”

“
Very true, Miss Woodhouse,
so she will. He is the very best young man—But, my dear Jane, if
you remember, I told you yesterday he was precisely the height of
Mr. Perry. Miss Hawkins—I dare say, an excellent young woman. His
extreme attention to my mother—wanting her to sit in the vicarage
pew, that she might hear the better, for my mother is a little
deaf, you know—it is not much, but she does not hear quite quick.
Jane says that Colonel Campbell is a little deaf. He fancied
bathing might be good for it—the warm bath—but she says it did him
no lasting benefit. Colonel Campbell, you know, is quite our angel.
And Mr. Dixon seems a very charming young man, quite worthy of him.
It is such a happiness when good people get together—and they
always do. Now, here will be Mr. Elton and Miss Hawkins; and there
are the Coles, such very good people; and the Perrys—I suppose
there never was a happier or a better couple than Mr. and Mrs.
Perry. I say, sir,” turning to Mr. Woodhouse, “I think there are
few places with such society as Highbury. I always say, we are
quite blessed in our neighbours. My dear sir, if there is one thing
my mother loves better than another, it is pork—a roast loin of
pork—”

“
As to who, or what Miss
Hawkins is, or how long he has been acquainted with her,” said
Emma, “nothing I suppose can be known. One feels that it cannot be
a very long acquaintance. He has been gone only four
weeks.”

Nobody had any information to give; and,
after a few more wonderings, Emma said,

“
You are silent, Miss
Fairfax—but I hope you mean to take an interest in this news. You,
who have been hearing and seeing so much of late on these subjects,
who must have been so deep in the business on Miss Campbell’s
account—we shall not excuse your being indifferent about Mr. Elton
and Miss Hawkins.”

“
When I have seen Mr.
Elton,” replied Jane, “I dare say I shall be interested—but I
believe it requires that with me. And as it is some months since
Miss Campbell married, the impression may be a little worn
off.”

“
Yes, he
has been gone just four weeks, as you observe, Miss Woodhouse,”
said Miss Bates, “four weeks yesterday.
I do fear his quest to gain help with the beast that dwells
hereabouts must have been detered by matters of the heart.
A Miss Hawkins! Well, I had always rather fancied
it would be 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 sort 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—Miss Woodhouse lets me
chatter on, so good-humouredly. She knows I would not offend for
the world. How does Miss Smith do? She seems quite recovered now.
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.”

“
Quite wrong, my dear aunt;
there is no likeness at all.”

“
Very odd! but one never
does form a just idea of any body beforehand. One takes up a
notion, and runs away with it. Mr. Dixon, you say, is not, strictly
speaking, handsome?”

“
Handsome! Oh! no—far from
it—certainly plain. I told you he was plain.”

“
My dear, you said that
Miss Campbell would not allow him to be plain, and that you
yourself—”

“
Oh! as for me, my judgment
is worth nothing. Where I have a regard, I always think a person
well-looking. But I gave what I believed the general opinion, when
I called him plain.”

“
Well, my dear Jane, I
believe we must be running away. The weather does not look well,
and grandmama will be uneasy. You are too obliging, my dear Miss
Woodhouse; but we really must take leave. This has been a most
agreeable piece of news indeed. I shall just go round by Mrs.
Cole’s; but I shall not stop three minutes: and, Jane, you had
better go home directly—I would not have you out in a storm! We
think she is the better for Highbury already. Thank you, we do
indeed. I shall not attempt calling on Mrs. Goddard, for I really
do not think she cares for any thing but boiled pork: when we dress
the leg it will be another thing. Good morning to you, my dear sir.
Oh! Mr. Knightley is coming too. Well, that is so very! I am sure
if Jane is tired, you will be so kind as to give her your arm. Mr.
Elton, and Miss Hawkins! Good morning to you.”