Mr. Knightley’s Diary

"I am only trying to help her."

"You are not helping her by filling her head with conceit. I thought you would have learnt your lesson about interfering by now."

"I want what is best for her, that is all," she said, but she did not meet my eye.

"Then let her be happy, in her own way."

She gave a laugh, but she abandoned the subject of her friend, saying: "But we were not speaking of Harriet, we were speaking of the Coles."

"Very good, unpretending people," I returned. "They are respectable, and well thought of by their neighbours. Their business has prospered, and their style of living is now second only to Hartfield."

"That is exactly what I mean. What business have they living in such style? It is proof, if proof were needed, that they are only moderately genteel. To have them presume to invite the best families to dinner! If you will be guided by me, you will send them your regrets and you will stay at home."

"I shall do nothing of the kind, and Weston will not refuse the invitation either."

"Then it is up to me to show them the error of their ways. Nothing shall tempt me to go, and my only regret is that my father’s habits are so well-known that they might not ascribe my refusal to the real reason; by which I mean to say, they might think it is because Papa does not like to dine out, rather than realizing it is because their invitation is presumptuous."

I shook my head, smiling.

"The Coles are very respectable in their way, but they ought to be taught that it is not for them to arrange the terms on which the superior families will visit them," she said majestically. "Standards must be maintained. I could not possibly go to one of their dinner parties."

"You need not worry about it. I doubt if they will invite you," I said, to puncture her conceit.

She looked surprised and then displeased, and I laughed. She did not want to go, because she believed it would be beneath her dignity, but she did not want to be neglected, either!

We finished the game. I won, which did not please her, but as she is as good a player as I am, the next time we play, the positions will probably be reversed.

Saturday 27 February

Today was a fine day. After the recent bad weather it was a relief to wake to a blue sky and a stiff breeze, rather than sleet and scattered snow. I received a letter from John this morning and I walked over to Hartfield so that I could share the news.

"Will he be coming to us at Easter?" asked Emma.

"No, he says he is too busy, but he has promised to visit us for an extended spell in the summer."

"But the children will have grown so much by then!"

Mr. Woodhouse sighed and shook his head, murmuring, "Poor Isabella! She must miss us terribly."

"You must write back and persuade your brother to spare us a few days," said Emma.

"I only wish I could. I would like to have the boys here myself."

"And not the girls?" Emma teased me.

"The girls, too!"

"Emma will no longer be a baby the next time we see her. If we wait until the summer, she will be more than one year old."

"But she will not be too big for her aunt to play with," I said.

"Or her uncle. You are as capable of doting on the children as I am."

At this Mr. Woodhouse broke in anxiously: "Only sometimes, Mr. Knightley, I fear you are too rough. I have seen you throwing them up to the ceiling, and it is very dangerous."

"Come now, Papa, the children enjoy it," said Emma.

"Children enjoy all sorts of things that are not good for them, my dear," he said. "Once, Henry asked me for a knife, but I told him knives were only made for grandpapas. I could not think of letting him have anything so dangerous."

Emma wisely changed the subject. We spoke of the Bateses, the Coles and the Westons, and Mr. Woodhouse was soon soothed.

I could not stay to luncheon as business called me back to the Abbey but I walked over to Hartfield after dinner and spent the remainder of my evening there.

Once I was settled in my chair, Emma told me she had written to Isabella and begged her to spare her two oldest children for a time.

"I know she will not be parted from the younger ones, but if John finds himself travelling this way on business he could bring the older children with him and leave them here."

She looked at me.

"Well?" I asked her.

"I thought that you might like to write something similar to John," she said.

"Hah! Very well. I will add my entreaties to yours, and see if we cannot persuade them between us."

March

Monday 1 March

Whilst dining with Graham this evening, Mr. Longridge spoke of his continuing efforts to find a house in Highbury.

"I have seen so many houses, if I did not have my friends to help me, I would be thoroughly confused."

"You have been to Brookfield?" asked Mrs. Cole.

"Not yet, but I have it on my list, and I am going there tomorrow. I have high hopes of it. I have heard it is an excellent house."

"It is certainly very conveniently placed, being on the London road."