Emma and the Werewolves (43 page)

“
When you have seen more of
this country, I am afraid you will think you have overrated
Hartfield. Surry is full of beauties.”

“
Oh! yes, I am quite aware
of that. It is the garden of England, you know. Surry is the garden
of England.”

“
Yes; but we must not rest
our claims on that distinction. Many counties, I believe, are
called the garden of England, as well as Surry.”

“
No, I fancy not,” replied
Mrs. Elton, with a most satisfied smile.” I never heard any county
but Surry called so.”

Emma was silenced.

“
My brother and sister have
promised us a visit in the spring, or summer at farthest,”
continued Mrs. Elton; “and that will be our time for exploring.
While they are with us, we shall explore a great deal, I dare say.
They will have their barouche-landau, of course, which holds four
perfectly; and therefore, without saying any thing of our carriage,
we should be able to explore the different beauties extremely well.
They would hardly come in their chaise, I think, at that season of
the year. Indeed, when the time draws on, I shall decidedly
recommend their bringing the barouche-landau; it will be so very
much preferable. When people come into a beautiful country of this
sort, you know, Miss Woodhouse, one naturally wishes them to see as
much as possible; and Mr. Suckling is extremely fond of exploring.
We explored to King’s-Weston twice last summer, in that way, most
delightfully, just after their first having the barouche-landau.
You have many parties of that kind here, I suppose, Miss Woodhouse,
every summer?”

“
No; not immediately here.
We are rather out of distance of the very striking beauties which
attract the sort of parties you speak of; and we are a very quiet
set of people, I believe; more disposed to stay at home than engage
in schemes of pleasure.”

“
Ah! there is nothing like
staying at home for real comfort. Nobody can be more devoted to
home than I am. I was quite a proverb for it at Maple Grove. Many a
time has Selina said, when she has been going to Bristol, ‘I really
cannot get this girl to move from the house. I absolutely must go
in by myself, though I hate being stuck up in the barouche-landau
without a companion; but Augusta, I believe, with her own
good-will, would never stir beyond the park paling.’ Many a time
has she said so; and yet I am no advocate for entire seclusion. I
think, on the contrary, when people shut themselves up entirely
from society, it is a very bad thing; and that it is much more
advisable to mix in the world in a proper degree, without living in
it either too much or too little. I perfectly understand your
situation, however, Miss Woodhouse—(looking towards Mr. Woodhouse),
Your father’s state of health must be a great drawback. Why does
not he try Bath? Indeed he should. Let me recommend Bath to you. I
assure you I have no doubt of its doing Mr. Woodhouse
good.”

“
My father tried it more
than once, formerly; but without receiving any benefit; and Mr.
Perry, whose name, I dare say, is not unknown to you, does not
conceive it would be at all more likely to be useful
now.”

“
Ah! that’s a great pity;
for I assure you, Miss Woodhouse, where the waters do agree, it is
quite wonderful the relief they give. In my Bath life, I have seen
such instances of it! And it is so cheerful a place, that it could
not fail of being of use to Mr. Woodhouse’s spirits, which, I
understand, are sometimes much depressed. And as to its
recommendations to you, I fancy I need not take much pains to dwell
on them. The advantages of Bath to the young are pretty generally
understood. It would be a charming introduction for you, who have
lived so secluded a life; and I could immediately secure you some
of the best society in the place. A line from me would bring you a
little host of acquaintance; and my particular friend, Mrs.
Partridge, the lady I have always resided with when in Bath, would
be most happy to shew you any attentions, and would be the very
person for you to go into public with.”

It was as much as Emma
could bear, without being impolite. The idea of her being indebted
to Mrs. Elton for what was called an introduction—of her going into
public under the auspices of a friend of Mrs. Elton’s—probably some
vulgar, dashing widow, who, with the help of a boarder, just made a
shift to live! The dignity of Miss Woodhouse, of Hartfield, was
sunk indeed!

She restrained herself, however, from any of
the reproofs she could have given, and only thanked Mrs. Elton
coolly; “but their going to Bath was quite out of the question; and
she was not perfectly convinced that the place might suit her
better than her father.” And then, to prevent farther outrage and
indignation, changed the subject directly.

“
I do not ask whether you
are musical, Mrs. Elton. Upon these occasions, a lady’s character
generally precedes her; and Highbury has long known that you are a
superior performer.”

“
Oh! no, indeed; I must
protest against any such idea. A superior performer! very far from
it, I assure you. Consider from how partial a quarter your
information came. I am doatingly fond of music—passionately fond;
and my friends say I am not entirely devoid of taste; but as to any
thing else, upon my honour my performance is mediocre to the last
degree. You, Miss Woodhouse, I well know, play delightfully. I
assure you it has been the greatest satisfaction, comfort, and
delight to me, to hear what a musical society I am got into. I
absolutely cannot do without music. It is a necessary of life to
me; and having always been used to a very musical society, both at
Maple Grove and in Bath, it would have been a most serious
sacrifice. I honestly said as much to Mr. E. when he was speaking
of my future home, and expressing his fears lest the retirement of
it should be disagreeable; and the inferiority of the house
too—knowing what I had been accustomed to—of course he was not
wholly without apprehension. When he was speaking of it in that
way, I honestly said that the world I could give up—parties, balls,
plays—for I had no fear of retirement. Blessed with so many
resources within myself, the world was not necessary to me. I could
do very well without it. To those who had no resources it was a
different thing; but my resources made me quite independent. And as
to smaller-sized rooms than I had been used to, I really could not
give it a thought. I hoped I was perfectly equal to any sacrifice
of that description. Certainly I had been accustomed to every
luxury at Maple Grove; but I did assure him that two carriages were
not necessary to my happiness, nor were spacious apartments. ‘But,’
said I, ‘to be quite honest, I do not think I can live without
something of a musical society. I condition for nothing else; but
without music, life would be a blank to me.’”

“
We cannot suppose,” said
Emma, smiling, “that Mr. Elton would hesitate to assure you of
there being a very musical society in Highbury; and I hope you will
not find he has outstepped the truth more than may be pardoned, in
consideration of the motive.”

“
No, indeed, I have no
doubts at all on that head. I am delighted to find myself in such a
circle. I hope we shall have many sweet little concerts together. I
think, Miss Woodhouse, you and I must establish a musical club, and
have regular weekly meetings at your house, or ours. Will not it be
a good plan? If we exert ourselves, I think we shall not be long in
want of allies. Something of that nature would be particularly
desirable for me, as an inducement to keep me in practice; for
married women, you know—there is a sad story against them, in
general. They are but too apt to give up music.”

“
But you, who are so
extremely fond of it—there can be no danger, surely?”

“
I should hope not; but
really when I look around among my acquaintance, I tremble. Selina
has entirely given up music—never touches the instrument—though she
played sweetly. And the same may be said of Mrs. Jeffereys—Clara
Partridge, that was—and of the two Milmans, now Mrs. Bird and Mrs.
James Cooper; and of more than I can enumerate. Upon my word it is
enough to put one in a fright. I used to be quite angry with
Selina; but really I begin now to comprehend that a married woman
has many things to call her attention. I believe I was half an hour
this morning shut up with my housekeeper.”

“
But every thing of that
kind,” said Emma, “will soon be in so regular a train—”

“
Well,” said Mrs. Elton,
laughing, “we shall see.”

Emma, finding her so determined upon
neglecting her music, had nothing more to say; and, after a
moment’s pause, Mrs. Elton chose another subject.

“
We have been calling at
Randalls,” said she, “and found them both at home; and very
pleasant people they seem to be. I like them extremely. Mr. Weston
seems an excellent creature—quite a first-rate favourite with me
already, I assure you. And she appears so truly good—there is
something so motherly and kind-hearted about her, that it wins upon
one directly. She was your governess, I think?”

Emma was almost too much astonished to
answer; but Mrs. Elton hardly waited for the affirmative before she
went on.

“
Having understood as much,
I was rather astonished to find her so very lady-like! But she is
really quite the gentlewoman.”

“
Mrs. Weston’s manners,”
said Emma, “were always particularly good. Their propriety,
simplicity, and elegance, would make them the safest model for any
young woman.”

“
And who do you think came
in while we were there?”

Emma was quite at a loss.
The tone implied some old acquaintance—and how could she possibly
guess?

“
Knightley!” continued Mrs.
Elton; “Knightley himself! Was not it lucky? for, not being within
when he called the other day, I had never seen him before; and of
course, as so particular a friend of Mr. E.’s, I had a great
curiosity. ‘My friend Knightley’ had been so often mentioned, that
I was really impatient to see him; and I must do my caro sposo the
justice to say that he need not be ashamed of his friend. Knightley
is quite the gentleman. I like him very much. Decidedly, I think, a
very gentleman-like man.”

Happily, it was now time to be gone. They
were off; and Emma could breathe.

“
Insufferable woman!” was
her immediate exclamation. “Worse than I had supposed. Absolutely
insufferable! Knightley! I could not have believed it. Knightley!
never seen him in her life before, and call him Knightley! and
discover that he is a gentleman! A little upstart, vulgar being,
with her Mr. E., and her caro sposo, and her resources, and all her
airs of pert pretension and underbred finery. Actually to discover
that Mr. Knightley is a gentleman! I doubt whether he will return
the compliment, and discover her to be a lady. I could not have
believed it! And to propose that she and I should unite to form a
musical club! One would fancy we were bosom friends! And Mrs.
Weston! Astonished that the person who had brought me up should be
a gentlewoman! Worse and worse. I never met with her equal. Much
beyond my hopes. Harriet is disgraced by any comparison. Oh! what
would Frank Churchill say to her, if he were here? How angry and
how diverted he would be! Ah! there I am thinking of him directly.
Always the first person to be thought of! How I catch myself out!
Frank Churchill comes as regularly into my mind!” —

All this ran so glibly through her thoughts,
that by the time her father had arranged himself, after the bustle
of the Eltons’ departure, and was ready to speak, she was very
tolerably capable of attending.

“
Well, my dear,” he
deliberately began, “considering we never saw her before, she seems
a very pretty sort of young lady; and I dare say she was very much
pleased with you. She speaks a little too quick. A little quickness
of voice there is which rather hurts the ear. But I believe I am
nice; I do not like strange voices; and nobody speaks like you and
poor Miss Taylor. However, she seems a very obliging,
pretty-behaved young lady, and no doubt will make him a very good
wife. Though I think he had better not have married. I made the
best excuses I could for not having been able to wait on him and
Mrs. Elton on this happy occasion; I said that I hoped I should in
the course of the summer. But I ought to have gone before. Not to
wait upon a bride is very remiss. Ah! it shews what a sad invalid I
am! But I do not like the corner into Vicarage Lane.”

“
I dare say your apologies
were accepted, sir. Mr. Elton knows you.”

“
Yes: but a young lady—a
bride—I ought to have paid my respects to her if possible. It was
being very deficient.”

“
But, my dear papa, you are
no friend to matrimony; and therefore why should you be so anxious
to pay your respects to a bride? It ought to be no recommendation
to you. It is encouraging people to marry if you make so much of
them.”

“
No, my dear, I never
encouraged any body to marry, but I would always wish to pay every
proper attention to a lady—and a bride, especially, is never to be
neglected. More is avowedly due to her. A bride, you know, my dear,
is always the first in company, let the others be who they
may.”

“
Well, papa, if this is not
encouragement to marry, I do not know what is. And I should never
have expected you to be lending your sanction to such vanity-baits
for poor young ladies.”

“
My dear, you do not
understand me. This is a matter of mere common politeness and
good-breeding, and has nothing to do with any encouragement to
people to marry.”