Mr. Knightley’s Diary

No plans, as yet, I thought, as she smiled at me. But I fully intend to marry if I can persuade Emma to marry me. I do not despair of it. She does not seem set on Churchill and she likes me, I know. In time, I hope she will come to see me as a husband.

She put her hand through my arm as we walked back through the gardens, and as we reached the Abbey the sun came out.

Friday 23 April

Frank Churchill was in Highbury today, but he spent very little time at Hartfield. He paid a call in the morning, and then went on to the Bateses, and had lunch with Mr. and Mrs. Weston before going back to London.

Monday 26 April

I joined Emma and her father at Hartfield this morning, and I found the Westons there. They had called to say that Mrs. Churchill felt no better in London, and that she had taken a house at Richmond for May and June.

I looked at Emma, wondering how she would take the news, for Richmond is very near.

"He will be with us all the time," said Weston, delighted. "It is only a short distance, no more than nine miles, and what is nine miles?"

"And now the ball can go ahead," said Mrs. Weston to Emma.

Emma was delighted, and I was downcast. I did not begrudge her her happiness, but I was left to trust in her good judgement and hope she sees through him in the end.

Mr. Woodhouse was not happy with the idea of the ball, either, though he likes it better in May than he did in February, as the chance of draughts are fewer. But he was still worried that the boys might be taken ill whilst Emma was away.

"You will have Mrs. Bates to sit with you," said Emma, "and if either of the boys is unwell, you can send a message to me at the Crown and I will come home directly."

Thus soothed, he subsided into vague hopes that no disasters would mar the evening. I hoped so, too, though the disasters I envisaged were of a different kind.

May

Monday 3 May

I did not enjoy this evening. Emma spent most of it with Frank Churchill. He was already talking to her when I arrived, and though he seemed restless, he scarcely moved from her side. He claimed her hand for the first dance, and though I tried not to look at them, I found it hard to keep my eyes away, for Emma was looking very beautiful.

"They look well together, do they not?" said Otway, who was standing at the side of the room, next to me.

"Yes. Mrs. Elton is very pleased to be opening the dance, and Weston is happy to be partnering her,"

I said, deliberately misunderstanding.

"I was not talking about Mrs. Elton and Mr. Weston, but Mr. Churchill and Miss Woodhouse. I think we will see a match there before long. It would please everyone in Highbury, I am sure. Mr. and Mrs. Weston would be delighted, and all Miss Woodhouse’s friends must be glad to see her so well married. Mr. Churchill is to inherit Enscombe, and a very fine fortune besides."

"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.