Emma (45 page)

This was the only visit from Frank Churchill in the course of ten days. He was often hoping, intending to come—but was always prevented. His aunt could not bear to have him leave her. Such was his own account at Randall’s. If he were quite sincere, if he really tried to come, it was to be inferred that Mrs Churchill’s removal to London had been of no service to the wilful or nervous part of her disorder. That she was really ill was very certain, he had declared himself convinced of it, at Randalls. Though much might be fancy, he could not doubt, when he looked back, that she was in a weaker state of health than she had been half a year ago. He did not believe it to proceed from anything that care and medicine might not remove, or at least that she might not have many years of existence before her, but he could not be prevailed on, by all his father’s doubts, to say that her complaints were merely imaginary, or that she was as strong as ever.

It soon appeared that London was not the place for her. She could not endure its noise. Her nerves were under continual irritation and suffering, and by the ten days’ end, her nephew’s letter to Randalls communicated a change of plan. They were going to remove immediately to Richmond. Mrs Churchill had been recommended to the medical skill of an eminent person there, and had otherwise a fancy for the place. A ready-furnished house in a favourite spot was engaged, and much benefit expected from the change.

Emma heard that Frank wrote in the highest spirits of this arrangement, and seemed most fully to appreciate the blessing of having two months before him of such near neighbourhood to many dear friends—for the house was taken for May and June. She was told that now he wrote with the greatest confidence of being often with them, almost as often as he could even wish.

Emma saw how Mr Weston understood these joyous prospects. He was considering her as the source of all the happiness they offered. She hoped it was not so. Two months must bring it to the proof.

Mr Weston’s own happiness was indisputable. He was quite delighted. It was the very circumstance he could have wished for. Now, it would be really having Frank in their neighbourhood. What were nine miles to a young man? An hour’s ride. He would be always coming over. The difference in that respect of Richmond and London was enough to make the whole difference of seeing him always and seeing him never. Sixteen miles—nay, eighteen—it must be full eighteen to Manchester Street—was a serious obstacle. Were he ever able to get away, the day would be spent in coming and returning. There was no comfort in having him in London, he might as well be at Enscombe, but Richmond was the very distance for easy intercourse. Better than nearer!

One good thing was immediately brought to a certainty by this removal, the ball at the Crown. It had not been forgotten before, but it had been soon acknowledged vain to attempt to fix a day. Now, however, it was absolutely to be, every preparation was resumed—and very soon after the Churchills had removed to Richmond, a few lines from Frank to say that his aunt felt already much better for the change, and that he had no doubt of being able to join them for twenty-four hours at any given time, induced them to name as early a day as possible.

Mr Weston’s ball was to be a real thing. A very few tomorrows stood between the young people of Highbury and happiness.

Mr Woodhouse was resigned. The time of year lightened the evil to him. May was better for everything than February. Mrs Bates was engaged to spend the evening at Hartfield, James had due notice, and he sanguinely hoped that neither dear little Henry nor dear little John would have anything the matter with them, while dear Emma were gone.

Chapter Two

No misfortune occurred again to prevent the ball. The day approached, the day arrived, and after a morning of some anxious watching, Frank Churchill, in all the certainty of his own self, reached Randalls before dinner, and everything was safe.

No second meeting had there yet been between him and Emma. The room at the Crown was to witness it, but it would be better than a common meeting in a crowd. Mr Weston had been so very earnest in his entreaties for her arriving there as soon as possible after themselves, for the purpose of taking her opinion as to the propriety and comfort of the rooms before any other persons came, that she could not refuse him, and must therefore spend some quiet interval in the young man’s company. She was to convey Harriet, and they drove to the Crown in good time, the Randalls party just sufficiently before them.

Frank Churchill seemed to have been on the watch, and though he did not say much, his eyes declared that he meant to have a delightful evening. They all walked about together, to see that everything was as it should be, and within a few minutes were joined by the contents of another carriage, which Emma could not hear the sound of at first, without great surprise. “So unreasonably early!” she was going to exclaim, but she presently found that it was a family of old friends, who were coming, like herself, by particular desire, to help Mr Weston’s judgement, and they were so very closely followed by another carriage of cousins, who had been entreated to come early with the same distinguishing earnestness, on the same errand, that it seemed as if half the company might soon be collected together for the purpose of preparatory inspection.

Emma perceived that her taste was not the only taste on which Mr Weston depended, and felt that to be the favourite and intimate of a man who had so many intimates and confidantes was not the very first distinction in the scale of vanity. She liked his open manners, but a little less of open-heartedness would have made him a higher character. General benevolence, but not general friendship, made a man what he ought to be. She could fancy such a man. The whole party walked about, and looked, and praised again, then, having nothing else to do, formed a sort of half-circle round the fire, to observe in their various modes, till other subjects were started, that, though
May
, a fire in the evening was still very pleasant.

Emma found that it was not Mr Weston’s fault that the number of privy councillors was not yet larger. They had stopped at Mrs Bates’ door to offer the use of their carriage, but the aunt and niece were to be brought by the Eltons.

Frank was standing by her, but not steadily. There was a restlessness which showed a mind not at ease. He was looking about, he was going to the door, he was watching for the sound of other carriages, impatient to begin, or afraid of being always near her.

Mrs Elton was spoken of. “I think she must be here soon,” said he. “I have a great curiosity to see Mrs Elton, I have heard so much of her. It cannot be long, I think, before she comes.”

A carriage was heard. He was on the move immediately, but coming back, said, “I am forgetting that I am not acquainted with her. I have never seen either Mr or Mrs Elton. I have no business to put myself forward.”

Mr and Mrs Elton appeared, and all the smiles and the proprieties passed.

“But Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax!” said Mr Weston, looking about. “We thought you were to bring them.”

The mistake had been slight. The carriage was sent for them now. Emma longed to know what Frank’s first opinion of Mrs Elton might be, how he was affected by the studied elegance of her dress, and her smiles of graciousness. He was immediately qualifying himself to form an opinion, by giving her very proper attention, after the introduction had passed.

In a few minutes the carriage returned. Somebody talked of rain. “I will see that there are umbrellas, sir,” said Frank to his father. “Miss Bates must not be forgotten.” And away he went. Mr Weston was following, but Mrs Elton detained him to gratify him by her opinion of his son, and so briskly did she begin that the young man himself, though by no means moving slowly, could hardly be out of hearing.

“A very fine young man indeed, Mr Weston. You know I candidly told you I should form my own opinion, and I am happy to say that I am extremely pleased with him. You may believe me. I never compliment. I think him a very handsome young man, and his manners are precisely what I like and approve—so truly the gentleman, without the least conceit or puppyism. You must know I have a vast dislike to puppies—quite a horror of them. They were never tolerated at Maple Grove. Neither Mr Suckling nor me had ever any patience with them, and we used sometimes to say very cutting things! Selina, who is mild almost to a fault, bore with them much better.”

While she talked of his son, Mr Weston’s attention was chained, but when she got to Maple Grove, he could recollect that there were ladies just arriving to be attended to, and with happy smiles must hurry away.

Mrs Elton turned to Mrs Weston. “I have no doubt of its being our carriage with Miss Bates and Jane. Our coachman and horses are so extremely expeditious! I believe we drive faster than anybody. What a pleasure it is to send one’s carriage for a friend! I understand you were so kind as to offer, but another time it will be quite unnecessary. You may be very sure I shall always take care of
them
.”

Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax, escorted by the two gentlemen, walked into the room, and Mrs Elton seemed to think it as much her duty as Mrs Weston’s to receive them. Her gestures and movements might be understood by anyone who looked on like Emma, but her words, everybody’s words, were soon lost under the incessant flow of Miss Bates, who came in talking, and had not finished her speech under many minutes after her being admitted into the circle at the fire. As the door opened she was heard.

“So very obliging of you! No rain at all. Nothing to signify. I do not care for myself. Quite thick shoes. And Jane declares— Well!”—as soon as she was within the door—“Well! This is brilliant indeed! This is admirable! Excellently contrived, upon my word. Nothing wanting. Could not have imagined it. So well lighted up! Jane, Jane, look! Did you ever see anything? Oh! Mr Weston, you must really have had Aladdin’s lamp. Good Mrs Stokes would not know her own room again. I saw her as I came in, she was standing in the entrance. ‘Oh! Mrs Stokes,’ said I—but I had not time for more.”

She was now met by Mrs Weston.

“Very well, I thank you, ma’am. I hope you are quite well. Very happy to hear it. So afraid you might have a headache! Seeing you pass by so often, and knowing how much trouble you must have. Delighted to hear it indeed. Ah! Dear Mrs Elton, so obliged to you for the carriage! Excellent time. Jane and I quite ready. Did not keep the horses a moment. Most comfortable carriage. Oh, and I am sure our thanks are due to you, Mrs Weston, on that score. Mrs Elton had most kindly sent Jane a note, or we should have been. But two such offers in one day! Never were such neighbours. I said to my mother, ‘Upon my word, ma’am.’ Thank you, my mother is remarkably well. Gone to Mr Woodhouse’s. I made her take her shawl—for the evenings are not warm—her large new shawl—Mrs Dixon’s wedding-present. So kind of her to think of my mother! Bought at Weymouth, you know—Mr Dixon’s choice. There were three others, Jane says, which they hesitated about some time. Colonel Campbell rather preferred an olive.

“My dear Jane, are you sure you did not wet your feet? It was but a drop or two, but I am so afraid, but Mr Frank Churchill was so extremely—and there was a mat to step upon—I shall never forget his extreme politeness. Oh! Mr Frank Churchill, I must tell you my mother’s spectacles have never been in fault since, the rivet never came out again. My mother often talks of your good-nature. Does not she, Jane? Do not we often talk of Mr Frank Churchill? Ah! Here’s Miss Woodhouse. Dear Miss Woodhouse, how do you do? Very well, I thank you, quite well. This is meeting quite in fairy-land! Such a transformation! Must not compliment, I know”—eyeing Emma most complacently—“that would be rude—but upon my word, Miss Woodhouse, you do look—how do you like Jane’s hair? You are a judge. She did it all herself. Quite wonderful how she does her hair! No hairdresser from London I think could.

“Ah! Dr Hughes, I declare—and Mrs Hughes. Must go and speak to Dr and Mrs Hughes for a moment. How do you do? How do you do? Very well, I thank you. This is delightful, is not it? Where’s dear Mr Richard? Oh! There he is. Don’t disturb him. Much better employed talking to the young ladies. How do you do, Mr Richard? I saw you the other day as you rode through the town—Mrs Otway, I protest! And good Mr Otway, and Miss Otway and Miss Caroline. Such a host of friends! And Mr George and Mr Arthur! How do you do? How do you all do? Quite well, I am much obliged to you. Never better. Don’t I hear another carriage? Who can this be? Very likely the worthy Coles. Upon my word, this is charming to be standing about among such friends! And such a noble fire! I am quite roasted. No coffee, I thank you, for me—never take coffee. A little tea if you please, sir, by and by, no hurry— Oh! Here it comes. Everything so good!”

Frank Churchill returned to his station by Emma, and as soon as Miss Bates was quiet, she found herself necessarily overhearing the discourse of Mrs Elton and Miss Fairfax, who were standing a little way behind her. He was thoughtful. Whether he were overhearing too, she could not determine.

After a good many compliments to Jane on her dress and look, compliments very quietly and properly taken, Mrs Elton was evidently wanting to be complimented herself—and it was, “How do you like my gown? How do you like my trimming? How has Wright done my hair?”—with many other relative questions, all answered with patient politeness. Mrs Elton then said, “Nobody can think less of dress in general than I do—but upon such an occasion as this, when everybody’s eyes are so much upon me, and in compliment to the Westons—who I have no doubt are giving this ball chiefly to do me honour—I would not wish to be inferior to others. And I see very few pearls in the room except mine. So Frank Churchill is a capital dancer, I understand. We shall see if our styles suit. A fine young man certainly is Frank Churchill. I like him very well.”

At this moment Frank began talking so vigorously that Emma could not but imagine he had overheard his own praises, and did not want to hear more, and the voices of the ladies were drowned for a while, till another suspension brought Mrs Elton’s tones again distinctly forward. Mr Elton had just joined them, and his wife was exclaiming, “Oh! You have found us out at last, have you, in our seclusion? I was this moment telling Jane, I thought you would begin to be impatient for tidings of us.”