John remarked: "Your friend Perry thinks riding a healthful kind of exercise. It is just the sort of thing for young boys. They find the fresh air invigorating, and they learn to do something of importance. It would be a sorry man who could not ride."
Before an argument could ensue, Emma called John to join her, and I occupied Mr. Woodhouse with an account of the plans I had for the home farm.
Saturday 19 December
Isabella amused herself this morning by visiting all her friends in Highbury and showing off her children, and when she had done, John brought the eldest two boys to the Abbey for another riding lesson.
When we returned to Hartfield, we found that Harriet and Elton were also there. I was pleased, as I knew it would give John a chance to observe them and decide whether Elton was partial to Emma, or to Harriet, or whether he was partial to neither, but was simply indulging in an excess of civility to the ladies.
For myself, I could see no sign of preference for Harriet in Elton’s looks and conversation, but I could see a great deal of preference for Emma. As she and I talked of our fondness for spruce-beer, Elton was determined to like it also.
"Spruce-beer - the very thing for this season," he said.
"Do you like it, Harriet?" asked Emma, involving her friend in the conversation.
"I hardly know. I do not believe I have ever drunk it," she said.
"You must give me your recipe," said Elton. "I will write it down."
He took out a pencil, but as soon as he began to write, he discovered it had no point. He scratched and scraped at the paper, until I thought he would wear it through!
"Surely your pencil is not making any mark?" asked Emma.
He looked sheepish, then brightened. "I have my knife - a moment! - I will mend it," he said.
He was as good as his word and took out his knife, but by the time he had sharpened it, there was no pencil left.
"Pray, do not concern yourself, I am sure my recipe is no better than any other," said Emma.
But Elton would not give it up.
"I would so value it - I am sure it must be superior," he said with a simper.
I snorted, and took up my newspaper. How could the man bear to make such a fool of himself? He continued with his antics, however, feeling in his pocket for another pencil, and it was as good as a farce. If not for the fact that Harriet might be hurt by the tangle, I would have laughed at his goings-on.
Emma, meanwhile, saw her opportunity for furthering the cause of her friend.
"Harriet, do you not have a pencil that you could lend to Mr. Elton?"
Harriet blushed and found one, handing it to Emma.
"Pray, give it to Mr. Elton," she said.
He stopped patting his pockets and looked at it as though it was a priceless object, instead of a pencil. He took it from Harriet, but looked languishingly at Emma.
I wondered if I was making too much of it, and if it would come to nothing in the end, but when I spoke to John as he walked back to the Abbey with me, I found that he thought as I did, that Emma was
Elton’s object.
"Shall I warn her?" I asked him.
He said that, if the opportunity arose, he would mention it himself.
Monday 21 December
I walked over to Hartfield today, and when I arrived, I found the house looking festive. Emma and her friend had spent the morning decorating the banisters with greenery, and the children had helped them. They had decorated the pictures and mirrors in the drawing-room with sprigs of holly, which were thick with berries. The portrait of Harriet, elegantly framed, and hanging above the mantelpiece in the sitting-room, had been similarly adorned.
The children had been infected with the holiday atmosphere. They were playing boisterously, and Emma and her sister were trying to protect their father from the children’s high spirits.
Further excitement had been caused by a flurry of snow. Unluckily for the children, the flurry soon stopped, and Henry spent the rest of the afternoon asking when it would start again.
The subject affected everyone variously: Isabella was so keen to please her children that I think she would have caused a snowstorm if she could; Mr. Woodhouse was worried that snow would cause all manner of accidents, and decided that the only thing to do if it snowed would be to stay indoors; Emma shared her time between hoping for snow with the children and hoping for a lack of snow with her father. Harriet helped with the children, keeping them away from Mr. Woodhouse, except in small doses. This endeared her to Isabella, and the atmosphere was a happy one.
Even so, I could not help wishing that Harriet was at the Martins". Everyone was kind to her at Hartfield, but at Abbey Mill Farm she would have been someone of consequence, particularly if she had been betrothed to Robert Martin. She would have had a place in her own right, instead of being there as someone’s guest.
Tuesday 22 December
An invitation came from the Westons, inviting me to dinner at Randalls on the 24th. I was about to answer it when John arrived.
"I would have been here earlier, but Isabella has been showing the children to all her friends, and I could not have them until they had returned to Hartfield. It is a pretty thing, when a man may not have his children until his wife has done with them!" he said.
The boys were eager for their riding lesson, and whilst John and I encouraged them, we talked of the Westons" party.
"Isabella and Emma have managed to persuade their father to accept the invitation," he said.
"Have they indeed? They have done well. He does not like to go out at the best of times, and at Christmas, with his family at Hartfield, and snow threatening out of doors, I thought they would find it impossible."
"The Westons have consulted his feelings in everything. The hours are early and the guests few. Besides, I said that if he did not care to go, then Isabella and I must go without him, for we could not snub the Westons. He became so agitated at the thought of treating the Westons with less than their due that he was persuaded, particularly once Isabella had pointed out to him that there would be no difficulty in conveying everyone, as we had our own carriage at Hartfield."
"I mean to go, too."
The boys had finished their lesson, and we walked down to the stream. It had been so cold overnight that it had frozen over. The boys delighted in skating on it in their shoes, and we have promised them that, if the weather holds, we will skate properly tomorrow.
"Do you not miss all this?" I asked John.
"I do, but I would miss my business more, and it holds me in town. I cannot have both, so I am content with visiting you whenever I can."
By the time we returned to Hartfield, the boys were exhausted, and they were able to sit and play quietly by the fireside.
"What good children they are," said Mr. Woodhouse contentedly.
"When they have had Uncle Knightley to wear them out!" said Emma. "It is a good thing he invited them to the Abbey, where they could run about."
"They are lively children. They need to use up their energy, and where better than at their uncle’s house? And what have you been doing?" I asked Emma.
I looked at the drawing by the fire and picked it up. I noticed that it had not been done by Emma, but by her niece.
"This is good. This is very good," I said teasingly to Emma. "I think it is your best work"
Emma laughed.
"I cannot aspire to such greatness. That is Bella’s picture."
"Did you do this?" I asked Bella.
She nodded.
"And what is it?" I asked, looking at the squiggle on the paper. "Is it a castle?"