Mr. Knightley’s Diary

It is a very happy outcome. I have often worried about Miss Bates and her mother. Their fortune, small to begin with, has been ever declining, and they had little to look forward to. Miss Fairfax would have helped them, I am sure, but she will be living in Yorkshire, which is a long way off. Miss Bates’s Highbury friends would, of course, have made sure she had food and fuel enough, and have varied her life by inviting her to dinner, but it is not the same as suddenly finding herself married to a good and respectable man, with a home of her own. And what a home! Southdean is a fine residence, such as any woman might be proud of, and, moreover, a house she has had a fancy to live in since she was a child.

As I thought this, I saw that I had indeed been blind. Longridge had asked her to help him choose a house so he would know which one she liked!

I decided that this was not the time to discuss parish business, as I had intended, but I could not resist asking a household question: "Will you need a maid, by any chance?"

"A maid?" Longridge asked in surprise.

"Why, the very thing," said Miss Bates, recovering her power of speech and understanding me at once. "James has another daughter, just the right age - if she were to work here then Mr. Woodhouse would visit us, I am sure. How fortunate to be able to return my friends" hospitality, for it was never easy to hold a dinner party in the apartment, though it was very snug, and Mother and I were lucky to have it. But now we will be able to invite our friends to dine with us, only Mr. Woodhouse will not come - he does not like to bother James, you know, though I am sure James never thinks it any bother - but if he feels that James can see his daughter he will not mind giving the instruction for the carriage to be brought round."

I left them to their plans, and the words Bath…Brighton…Weymouth…followed me out of the room.

Sunday 26 September

We dined at Randalls tonight, and when we had admired the baby, and all sat down to dinner, Mrs. Weston said: "Have you had any trouble with your poultry recently?"

"No, what kind of trouble do you mean?" asked Emma.

"Our poultry house was robbed last night. We lost all our turkeys."

"What?" exclaimed Mr. Woodhouse in alarm.

"Was it a fox?" Emma asked.

"No, nothing of the sort. There were no feathers. The turkeys simply vanished. They were taken by thieves."

"Thieves!" said Mr. Woodhouse, in great consternation.

"There is nothing to worry about, Papa. It was an isolated incident, I am sure of it," said Emma.

But Mr. Woodhouse was very anxious, and suggested going home at once, lest the thieves should be at Hartfield.

"If there are thieves at home, you had better remain here," said Weston.

Mr. Woodhouse did not know what to do: whether to go home at once, or never to leave the safety of Randalls again.

At last, I soothed his fears by offering to return to Hartfield with him, to make sure there were no miscreants on the premises.

Wednesday 29 September

Everywhere we go, we hear of poultry-yards being raided. Hens, chickens and turkeys are no longer safe. It is a problem for those of us who seek to uphold the law. William Larkins was very upset.

"We need to find the culprit, Mr. Knightley," he said.

"I have had a watch set around Highbury," I assured him. "We will catch the villains."

I did not want to catch them too soon, however, as the incident had had an unexpected, but very welcome, consequence. When I went to Hartfield this evening, Mr. Woodhouse was so perturbed by the thought of the robberies that he could talk of nothing else.

"Mrs. Cole has had a dozen hens taken," he said. "And there have been turkeys taken from Abbey Mill Farm. Mrs. Goddard was telling me about it only this morning. She had it from poor Miss Smith" - he has still not learnt to call her Mrs. Martin - "who visited her to say she was sorry she could not take her a turkey, as they had been stolen. I am afraid the thieves will come here next, and once they have taken our chickens, what will they do?"

"There is nothing to worry about, Papa. The poultry-yard is a long way from the house."

"You do not know these people, Emma. They will break the windows and steal the silver, I am sure of it," he said.

"We have John to protect us," said Emma soothingly.

"But he cannot stay for ever," said Mr. Woodhouse. "He has to be in London in November."

We could not have wished for a better opening.

"If Mr. Knightley were in the house, Papa, we would be safe. It was what we arranged, you know, that Mr. Knightley would come and live here once we are married."

"Oh, yes, so it was," he said in relief. "A very good plan. The wedding is to be in October, I think you said, Emma, my dear?"

"Yes, Papa," said Emma, with a smile at me.

"October the eighth was the date decided on," I said decisively, so that there would be no more arguments.