"I see nothing in it, beyond an inclination to dance together," I said. "I cannot believe Miss
Woodhouse will ever leave Highbury. She could not leave her father."
"Very true, it would be difficult, but might she not take him to Enscombe with her?"
"Mr. Woodhouse, to leave Hartfield? That is something he would never do."
As I spoke, I realized I was trying to reassure myself.
"Perhaps not. But Miss Woodhouse and Mr. Churchill would have a house in town, and London is only sixteen miles away. They could visit Hartfield often from there."
"I am sure Miss Woodhouse has no more idea of marrying him than she has of marrying Longridge," I said, surprising myself as much as Otway.
He looked startled, and then begged my pardon, but it was I who should have been begging his pardon. I had spoken to him roughly, and should not have done so.
Emma caught my eye and her happiness forced me to smile, but I could not be easy. Otway’s thoughts echoed my own. They made a good pair - except that I knew they would not be suited; Frank Churchill with his fly-about ways, his unreliable nature and his inconsistencies, and Emma with her love of family and delight in her friends.
Whereas Emma and I would be a perfect match.
I could bear to watch them no longer. I retired to the card-room and played until it was almost time for supper, then returned to the ballroom. Emma was still dancing. She danced very well, and it gave me a great deal of pleasure to see her.
After a while, I noticed that her little friend was not dancing. I felt sorry to see her sitting out by herself.
To my surprise, I saw Elton walking towards her. I had thought he was too small-minded to overlook the wound Emma had inflicted on his pride, but it seemed I was wrong. It was clear he was going to rescue Harriet from her place at the side of the room and lead her onto the floor.
And why not? Now that he had married, no mistake could be made, no attention read into his action. It was a kind thought. It would set the lady at her ease, and make future intercourse between the two of them easy and pleasant. We all live in a small neighbourhood, after all.
He stood in front of her. She looked down, embarrassed, but glad that she was to be rescued from her ignominious position. But then, without saying a word to her, he moved on.
I could not believe it! To treat a young lady so! And at a private dance!
I had never thought so ill of a man in my life. To withdraw to the card-room would have been sensible; to have avoided her would have been unkind but permissible; yet to stand directly in front of her, and then to move away - that was abominable.
Things grew worse. Mrs. Weston asked him if he danced, and he offered to partner her, or Mrs. Gilbert; but when she mentioned Harriet, he had the effrontery to say that he was an old married man and his dancing days were over.
I was so incensed that I walked over to Harriet and asked her to dance myself. She looked up at me with such an expression of humble gratitude that my heart swelled.
I had not thought Elton could be so small-minded. Marriage had not made him better; it had made him many times worse. He had never been petty-minded before. Vain, yes; proud, yes; thinking well of himself, yes; but cruel towards others - no. And what another! A young girl with no family to offer her protection. I was disgusted with him, and did not trouble to conceal it.
I led Harriet on to the floor with all the deference I would have given to an heiress with £50,000, and I was gratified to see Elton’s black look, as well as Harriet’s radiant smile.
Emma might have chosen unwisely for Elton, but not as unwisely as he had chosen for himself. Harriet was shy at first, and said little, but she soon gained confidence and answered me freely, with an openness that was very attractive. She danced joyfully, bounding down the room like a lamb in spring, and I am sure the sight of her lifted the spirits of all reasonable men and women in the room.
During supper, I wondered again at Elton’s slight, for it was not only Harriet whom he had ill-treated. He had slighted Mrs. Weston, his hostess, when he had refused to dance with a partner she offered him, and he had sent a message to Emma, that he would not do anything to oblige her; more, that he was happy to disoblige her. And, by the glances that passed between Elton and his wife, it was clear she encouraged him.
When supper was over, Emma beckoned me over to her with her eyes. She thanked me for my kindness to her friend and we joined in censuring Elton and his abominable behaviour.
"The Eltons aimed at wounding more than Harriet," I said. "Emma, why is it that they are your enemies?" She said nothing, so I continued. "She ought not to be angry with you, I suspect, whatever he may be. To that surmise, you say nothing, of course; but confess, Emma, that you did want him to marry Harriet."
"I did," she confessed at last, "and they cannot forgive me."
Poor Emma!
"I shall not scold you," I said kindly. "I leave you to your own reflections."
"Can you trust me with such flatterers? Does my vain spirit ever tell me I am wrong?" she asked ruefully.
"Not your vain spirit, but your serious spirit. If one leads you wrong, I am sure the other tells you of it," I said, loving her more than ever.
"I do own myself to have been completely mistaken in Mr. Elton," she confessed. "There is a littleness about him which you discovered, and which I did not: and I was fully convinced of his being in love with Harriet. It was through a series of strange blunders!"
I was touched by her confidence.
"And, in return for your acknowledging so much, I will do you the justice to say, that you would have chosen for him better than he has chosen for himself. Harriet Smith has some first-rate qualities, which Mrs. Elton is totally without. An unpretending, single-minded, artless girl - infinitely to be preferred by any man of sense and taste to such a woman as Mrs. Elton. I found Harriet more conversable than I expected."
She was gratified. There was time for no more. The dancing was about to begin again.
My heart was warmed when, on asking her whom she meant to dance with, Emma said: "With you, if you will ask me."
My spirits surged.
"Will you?" I said, looking down into her eyes as I offered her my hand.
"Indeed I will," she replied, taking it. She was back to her old self. "You have shown that you can dance, and you know we are not really so much brother and sister as to make it at all improper."
"Brother and sister! - no, indeed."
As I led her onto the floor, I wondered if she saw me as a brother. I knew I had an opportunity, in the dance, to make her see me as something more. She was not in love with me, perhaps, but I felt confident I could make her love me. And then…a happy future opened out before me. Emma and I at the Abbey, with our own children.
Little Henry will have to make his own way in the world, I fear!
Wednesday 5 May
There was a most unfortunate incident today. I was just about to set out for Kingston when I was greeted by a messenger from Hartfield. He gave me a note, and I was alarmed to see that Harriet had been attacked by a group of gypsies on the Richmond Road. She and a friend had been walking along when they had seen the gypsies and, taking fright, had run away. Harriet had not been able to run very far as she had suffered from a cramp, and it was only the timely intervention of Frank Churchill, who just happened to be passing, that saved her from bodily harm.
I set out at once to see that the road was made safe again, but by the time I arrived the gypsies had hurried off. They had no mind to face a magistrate, and I am persuaded they will not trouble us again.
But I am still concerned that this should have happened in my parish.