Mr Knightley’s Diary (12 page)

'Such a nicely spoken young lady, and so well-read,' remarked Mrs Martin. 'She recommended
The Romance of the Forest
to us, and we've all read it, even Robert. I am reading
Children of the Abbey
at present, another book Miss Smith recommended. I've not been able to get near it until now, because my daughters have all been reading it, though Robert bought it before Christmas. "What a coincidence, it being about an abbey," my oldest girl said. "And here are we, living at Abbey Mill Farm. We could be the children of the Abbey." We all laughed at that. It was a pity Miss Smith wasn't here; she would have enjoyed the joke.'

Yes, I believe she would.

When Robert Martin returned, we took a tour of the farm and he showed me the improvements he intends to make. The farm is flourishing, and he hopes to make it more profitable next year. After hearing about his plans, I think he will succeed.

Saturday 30 January

A bright day. After the snow and the rain, it made a welcome change to see the sun. I fancied a break from my labours, and so I walked over to Hartfield to see Emma and her father. Perry was there, and whilst he sat with Mr Woodhouse, Emma and I took a turn in the garden.

'Your little friend is not with you, I see,' I remarked.

'No. She had some shopping to do, and I did not like to leave my father. The bad weather has depressed his spirits, and I played backgammon with him to pass the time until Perry arrived.'

'I saw her the other day, outside Ford's.'

I thought Emma stiffened, but she replied coolly enough: 'Oh?'

'Yes. She was just on her way to Hartfield, I think. She set off to go by the nearest route, but Robert Martin followed her out of the shop and recommended she take another way because the path was flooded.'

'That was very good of him,' she said lightly.

'Yes, it was. But then Robert Martin is a good man.'

'I am sure he is. But not good enough for Harriet,' she said.

'And how are your efforts to educate your little friend coming along? How is her sketching, her reading and her music?'

She coloured.

'You have abandoned them, I see. I am not surprised. Harriet was not made for music and sketching, but Miss Fairfax was. You should invite her to Hartfield. Together you can sketch and read, and play the pianoforte. She would be a proper companion for you.'

'She is so thin I do not like to trouble her,' said Emma awkwardly.

'You mean you do not like to trouble yourself! You were never fond of practising your music, even as a little girl. You were always eager to escape.'

'Well, and what if I was? There was always something more interesting to do!' she said with an arch smile.

'You will never be truly accomplished if you do not practise.'

'I am accomplished enough for Highbury,' she said.

'It is a pity you do not go to London more.'

'You know I cannot leave Papa. Besides, you always listen to me, despite my wrong notes!'

'I hope you are not passing these standards on to Harriet,' I said. 'You will never improve her if you are.'

She had the grace to blush.

'You have not forgiven me for trying to improve her,' she said.

'Improvement is a good thing, in general, but it should not be allowed to interfere with real life, and real prospects.'

We were back to Robert Martin.

I said no more, for I believe she is capable of continuing with her misguided notions to prove that she is right, whereas if I leave her to herself, in time I hope she will admit that she is wrong.

I am less worried about Harriet than I was. I am beginning to think she and Robert Martin will make a match of it, despite Emma's best efforts to keep them apart.

Friday 5 February

My attentions to Miss Fairfax have produced an unforeseen complication. As I was dining at Otway's this evening, he said to me: 'This seems to be a season of marriages. There must be something in the air. First Weston, then Elton, and if I do not miss my guess, you will be next.'

'I?' I exclaimed, surprised.

'You are very attentive to Miss Fairfax,' he said.

I coloured.

'I am sensitive to her situation, and having known her since her childhood, I feel an interest in her welfare. I mean to do everything I can to assist her, but marry her?--no,' I returned.

It may be that I will marry her, but until I am certain, I must be careful of her reputation, and make it clear that I intend no such thing.

'I beg your pardon,' said he, colouring slightly also. 'I meant no offence.'

'None taken. Indeed, you have done me a service. If you have misinterpreted my actions, then others might have misinterpreted them as well. I must be more circumspect.'

I would not damage Miss Fairfax for anything. She is a beautiful young woman, elegant, refined and cultured. In short, she is the kind of woman any man would be proud to marry. But there is something reserved about her, and I am not sure if I could ever feel towards her as a man should feel towards his wife. I could imagine her very well as a guest at the Abbey, but I am not certain I could see her as its mistress. She would greet my guests politely, but there would not be the warm welcome for them that there is at Hartfield, where Emma makes everyone feel at home.

I am very willing to fall in love with Jane Fairfax, but so far, love eludes me.

Friday 12 February

I dined with Graham this evening. Miss Bates was there with her mother and Jane. Mr and Mrs Cole were also there, as well as the Otways. Mrs Lovage, however was not there.

'She has gone to Bath to visit a cousin,' said Graham.

Graham's friend, Mr Longridge, was also there.

'A wonderful party,' said Mr Longridge. 'Just the sort of party my wife would have liked. So much good friendship and good cheer.' He blew his nose.

'There is nothing like good friendship,' said Miss Bates. 'I do not know where mother and I would be without it. I often say to her, "Mother, where would we be without such friends?" '

'Very true,' said Mr Longridge, with much feeling.

'We lack for nothing,' went on Miss Bates. 'I do believe if we were the richest people in the kingdom, we could not be better off than we are. Mr Woodhouse sent us such a piece of pork, mother and I could not stop talking about it. "Why, this is the finest piece of pork I've ever seen," said Mother. And so it was, for we had some nice cutlets fried, and I do not know when I have tasted better. And Mr Knightley can never pass our door without asking if we have enough apples, or if we need any more logs for the fire...'

As Miss Bates and Mr Longridge continued to talk, my attention was claimed by Mrs Cole, who wanted to talk to me about Elton's engagement. I knew I could not escape the subject, but it was wearing thin. He seems to have rushed into an engagement in an effort to show that he can do better than Emma's Harriet. I doubt if there is any true feeling there, on either side. He and his fiancee cannot have known each other more than four weeks, and very possibly less.

'It seems like a great match,' Mrs Coles said. 'Miss Augusta Hawkins is an heiress with a dowry of ten thousand pounds. She is very beautiful, and the most accomplished woman Mr Elton has ever met. I had a letter from Mr Elton this morning, telling me so.'

'It must be very agreeable for him to be marrying such a paragon,' I remarked.

'Indeed it must. She is very well-connected. Her brother-in-law, Mr Suckling, lives at Maple Grove.' She seemed to have a moment of doubt, and asked: 'Have you heard of Maple Grove?'

'I have not had that pleasure,' I said.

'Oh, well it is a long way away, to be sure, so I am not surprised. He--Mr Elton--will be returning soon to tell us all about it. I am expecting him any day. Mr Cole and I will be holding a dinner party in his honour. Do say you will come.'

I said I would be delighted, though I fear the evening will not interest me. But Elton must be congratulated, and I may as well do it sooner as later.

Monday 15 February

I met Elton at the Coles' dinner party tonight. He was looking very pleased with himself, and could speak of nothing but his dear Augusta.

'My dear Mr Elton--so propitious for you to return to us the day after St Valentine's day,' said Miss Bates. 'I declare it is so romantic, is it not, Jane? I was just saying to mother this morning, what a coincidence it was that Mr Elton should return to tell us of his happy suit so close to St Valentine's day.'

'A very happy suit,' said Elton, all smiles. 'Little did I think, when I quit you all shortly after Christmas, that I would be returning as an affianced man. But as soon as I saw my dear Augusta, I knew she must be mine.'

'Ah, that is how it was with me and my dear wife,' said Mr Longridge, wiping a tear from his eye. 'As soon as I saw her in that blue satin frock, I thought, that's the girl for me.'

'Oh, I have always thought blue satin most becoming,' said Miss Bates. 'I remember Jane had a blue satin gown once, did you not, my love? Colonel Campbell bought it for her. He has always been very good to Jane.'

'I am sure he was not the loser by it,' said Mr Longridge with courtly manners. 'My dear wife always loved a pretty young girl. We hoped for a daughter ourselves, but it was not to be.'

He wiped his eyes with his handkerchief again.

'But come, Mr Elton, tell us all about your fair Augusta,' said Mrs Cole. 'Is she very beautiful?'

Mr Elton smiled.

'It is not for me to say. You must pay no attention to me. I am a man in love, after all. But I think she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,' he said.

'Has she any brothers or sisters?' asked Mrs Cole.

'One sister.'

'And do they live in Bath?'

'No, and there is the wonder of it. They live in Bristol. But Augusta visits Bath every winter. A most agreeable place at that season, I might say. There is so much to do, and the people are of the first elegance. I am very fond of Bath.'

'Her parents, no doubt are delighted?'

'Alas, her parents are dead. She lives with an uncle, a very respectable man in the law line.'

'And when will we see her?' asked Mr Cole.

'I have persuaded her to name the day, and I am to return to Bath for the wedding. Just as soon as all the arrangements can be made, Augusta will be mine.'

'And then you will be bringing her back to Highbury?'

'I will indeed. I wish I had something better to offer her than the Vicarage--she has been used to very fine things at her brother-in-law, Mr Suckling's seat, at Maple Grove--but she is not interested in finery. She is a woman who knows how to value the real things of life.'

'Ay, my wife was just such a woman,' said Mr Longridge.

There was more in this vein, and it was a relief when the evening was over. Poor Emma! I wonder how she will endure it, having to listen to nothing but Elton and his betrothal, and then Elton and his wedding, and then Elton and his bride.

Wednesday 17 February

Mrs Weston gave a dinner party this evening for Elton. His betrothal has excited much interest, and I had to listen to his further recitals of Augusta's perfections.

Emma was one of the party, and I watched her as Elton poured forth the details of his happy love affair. He could not refrain from several triumphant glances in Emma's direction, and I believe she had an uncomfortable time of it.

'We met by accident--quite by accident,' Elton was saying. 'I shudder to think what might have become of me had I not come across my dear Augusta quite by chance. It was a happy fate that took me to Bath. I was much taken with Augusta, and I could not forget her, so you can imagine my delight when we met, again by chance. It was at Mr Green's--Green is an estimable fellow, who keeps a very fine table. I was looking forward to my evening, but for one thing: I could not forget the face of the lady I had encountered by accident the day before. And then, who should be announced but Miss Hawkins, and she was the lady I had seen!'

There was a murmur of surprise and approval.

'Not such an unlikely coincidence, considering you were both in the same town,' said Weston good-naturedly.

'But to be there on the same day?' said Elton. 'When I think that I might have missed her by one evening--the whole course of my life would have been different.'

And so he went on.

'And what do you think of this betrothal of Elton's?' I asked Emma, when I could find her alone.

I wondered if she would admit to trying to catch him for little Harriet. She has never told me so. Indeed, when I mentioned it, she declared quite the opposite. But I am convinced it was so. I wondered, too, if she would admit that he made love to her in the carriage on Christmas Eve.

But she admitted nothing. She said only: 'From all he says, Miss Hawkins seems to be a handsome and accomplished woman. I wish them both very well.'

Well done, Emma! I thought with admiration.

Elton's triumphant glances in her direction, his dwelling on his beloved's dowry and her connections at Maple Grove, had all been intended to humiliate her, but they had not done so. She had risen above them, and behaved perfectly. Not even such a shameful display on Elton's part had been enough to make her petty-minded, or to prompt her to say something rude about Augusta Hawkins.

And that is why, though I am frequently exasperated by her, and often despair of her, I always find Emma endearing.

Saturday 20 February

Elton has at last departed for Bath, and we are left in peace. It is a busy time of year at the Abbey with the sheep. The weather is not propitious, as we have had more snow, but my shepherds know their job, and I hope we will have a good number of lambs this year.

Monday 22 February

I called on Miss Bates this morning as business took me into Highbury, but she was out, and I found that old Mrs Bates was alone. It was difficult to talk to her, as she is growing rather deaf, but I gathered that Miss Bates was helping Mr Longridge to choose a house, and that Miss Fairfax had gone with them.

Mr Longridge had wanted a woman's opinion, it seems, as he knows little about the arrangement of kitchens and so forth, and Miss Bates had been happy to oblige.

I am sure his motive in asking for her help was kindness: Miss Bates, with her own small establishment, knows little of houses.

I liked him even more when I discovered that he had prevailed upon Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax to agree to dine with him afterwards, at a small country inn, in company with the Otways and the Coles. He would have taken Mrs Bates as well, but she had preferred to remain indoors, knitting by the fire.

And so, he had arranged to provide Miss Bates and her niece with an enjoyable day, and with a meal into the bargain.

It is a pity that I did not see Miss Fairfax, but as she is to be with us for some time, there will be plenty of other opportunities for me to speak to her.

Tuesday 23 February

The weather grows worse, and it was with difficulty that I managed to walk to Hartfield after dinner this evening, but I did not want to neglect my friends. I found Emma and her father sitting with Harriet.

I have grown used to finding Harriet there, and it was welcome this evening, as it meant that Emma and I could play backgammon without worrying that her father would be bored. He had Harriet to sit with him, and she read him Isabella's latest letter again: little George had a cold, the baby was growing rapidly, and Henry was making good progress with his reading.

'I called on Miss Bates this morning,' she said.

'And you are wanting me to praise you for it,' I said.

'No. If I want flattery, I know I must look elsewhere!'

We began to play.

'And did you find Miss Fairfax at home?' I asked her.

'I did. She had just returned from the post office. If I had called half an hour sooner, I would not have seen her.'

'And did you still find her reserved?'

'Yes, I did. I found it very difficult to have a conversation with her. She listened politely to everything I had to say, and she answered every question I put to her, but she volunteered nothing.

'Perhaps she had nothing to volunteer.'

'Nothing to volunteer, when she has been away from us for two years? What of all her news? Talk of her friend and her friend's wedding? Of the Campbells, and her life with them? Of her time at Weymouth, and her adventure on the boat? I am sure that could occupy half an hour at least.'

'I thought she had told you something of her friend's wedding a few days ago?'

'She did, but only when I asked her outright for information.'

There was something in her tone which gave me pause.

'What mischief are you brewing now?' I asked.

She looked at me innocently.

'You are a very suspicious man, Mr Knightley. What makes you think I would be brewing mischief?'

'Experience,' I remarked.

'It is sometimes very inconvenient to talk to someone I have known all my life,' she said playfully. 'It is also very unfair. It gives you an advantage. You know all about my childhood freaks, and I know nothing about yours.'

'That is because I never had any!' I returned.

She laughed.

'What is it, my dear?' asked her father, looking up from the letter.

'Mr Knightley says he had no childhood freaks.'

'I am sure he did not,' said her father. 'I have known Mr Knightley all his life, and he has never suffered from freaks. A better man it would be hard to find. Why, even as a boy he was very well-mannered. I remember him saying to me, when I had had a cold: "I am sorry to hear you have not been well. I hope you are recovered?" and he was only five years old.'

I did not remember this evidence of my childhood virtues, but I said: 'There you are,' to Emma none the less.