No More Learning

It had not been forgotten before,
but it had been soon acknowledged vain to attempt to fix a day. Now,
however, it was absolutely to be; every preparation was resumed, and
very soon after the Churchills had removed to Richmond, a few lines from
Frank, to say that his aunt felt already much better for the change, and
that he had no doubt of being able to join them for twenty-four hours at
any given time, induced them to name as early a day as possible.

Mr. Weston’s ball was to be a real thing. A very few to-morrows stood
between the young people of Highbury and happiness.

Mr. Woodhouse was resigned. The time of year lightened the evil to him.
May was better for every thing than February. Mrs. Bates was engaged to
spend the evening at Hartfield, James had due notice, and he sanguinely
hoped that neither dear little Henry nor dear little John would have any
thing the matter with them, while dear Emma were gone.



CHAPTER II


No misfortune occurred, again to prevent the ball. The day approached,
the day arrived; and after a morning of some anxious watching, Frank
Churchill, in all the certainty of his own self, reached Randalls before
dinner, and every thing was safe.

No second meeting had there yet been between him and Emma. The room
at the Crown was to witness it;--but it would be better than a
common meeting in a crowd. Mr. Weston had been so very earnest in his
entreaties for her arriving there as soon as possible after themselves,
for the purpose of taking her opinion as to the propriety and comfort of
the rooms before any other persons came, that she could not refuse him,
and must therefore spend some quiet interval in the young man’s company.
She was to convey Harriet, and they drove to the Crown in good time, the
Randalls party just sufficiently before them.

Frank Churchill seemed to have been on the watch; and though he did not
say much, his eyes declared that he meant to have a delightful evening.
They all walked about together, to see that every thing was as it should
be; and within a few minutes were joined by the contents of another
carriage, which Emma could not hear the sound of at first, without great
surprize. “So unreasonably early! ” she was going to exclaim; but she
presently found that it was a family of old friends, who were coming,
like herself, by particular desire, to help Mr. Weston’s judgment; and
they were so very closely followed by another carriage of cousins,
who had been entreated to come early with the same distinguishing
earnestness, on the same errand, that it seemed as if half the company
might soon be collected together for the purpose of preparatory
inspection.

Emma perceived that her taste was not the only taste on which Mr. Weston
depended, and felt, that to be the favourite and intimate of a man
who had so many intimates and confidantes, was not the very first
distinction in the scale of vanity. She liked his open manners, but
a little less of open-heartedness would have made him a higher
character. --General benevolence, but not general friendship, made a
man what he ought to be. --She could fancy such a man. The whole party
walked about, and looked, and praised again; and then, having nothing
else to do, formed a sort of half-circle round the fire, to observe
in their various modes, till other subjects were started, that, though
_May_, a fire in the evening was still very pleasant.

Emma found that it was not Mr. Weston’s fault that the number of privy
councillors was not yet larger. They had stopped at Mrs. Bates’s door
to offer the use of their carriage, but the aunt and niece were to be
brought by the Eltons.

Frank was standing by her, but not steadily; there was a restlessness,
which shewed a mind not at ease. He was looking about, he was going to
the door, he was watching for the sound of other carriages,--impatient
to begin, or afraid of being always near her.

Mrs. Elton was spoken of. “I think she must be here soon,” said he. “I
have a great curiosity to see Mrs. Elton, I have heard so much of her.
It cannot be long, I think, before she comes. ”

A carriage was heard. He was on the move immediately; but coming back,
said,

“I am forgetting that I am not acquainted with her. I have never seen
either Mr. or Mrs. Elton. I have no business to put myself forward. ”

Mr. and Mrs. Elton appeared; and all the smiles and the proprieties
passed.

“But Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax! ” said Mr. Weston, looking about. “We
thought you were to bring them. ”

The mistake had been slight. The carriage was sent for them now. Emma
longed to know what Frank’s first opinion of Mrs. Elton might be; how
he was affected by the studied elegance of her dress, and her smiles of
graciousness. He was immediately qualifying himself to form an opinion,
by giving her very proper attention, after the introduction had passed.

In a few minutes the carriage returned. --Somebody talked of rain. --“I
will see that there are umbrellas, sir,” said Frank to his father:
“Miss Bates must not be forgotten:” and away he went. Mr. Weston was
following; but Mrs. Elton detained him, to gratify him by her opinion
of his son; and so briskly did she begin, that the young man himself,
though by no means moving slowly, could hardly be out of hearing.

“A very fine young man indeed, Mr. Weston. You know I candidly told you
I should form my own opinion; and I am happy to say that I am extremely
pleased with him. --You may believe me. I never compliment. I think him
a very handsome young man, and his manners are precisely what I like and
approve--so truly the gentleman, without the least conceit or puppyism.
You must know I have a vast dislike to puppies--quite a horror of them.
They were never tolerated at Maple Grove. Neither Mr. Suckling nor
me had ever any patience with them; and we used sometimes to say very
cutting things! Selina, who is mild almost to a fault, bore with them
much better. ”

While she talked of his son, Mr. Weston’s attention was chained; but
when she got to Maple Grove, he could recollect that there were ladies
just arriving to be attended to, and with happy smiles must hurry away.

Mrs. Elton turned to Mrs. Weston. “I have no doubt of its being our
carriage with Miss Bates and Jane. Our coachman and horses are so
extremely expeditious! --I believe we drive faster than any body. --What
a pleasure it is to send one’s carriage for a friend! --I understand you
were so kind as to offer, but another time it will be quite unnecessary.
You may be very sure I shall always take care of _them_. ”

Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax, escorted by the two gentlemen, walked into
the room; and Mrs. Elton seemed to think it as much her duty as Mrs.
Weston’s to receive them. Her gestures and movements might be understood
by any one who looked on like Emma; but her words, every body’s words,
were soon lost under the incessant flow of Miss Bates, who came in
talking, and had not finished her speech under many minutes after her
being admitted into the circle at the fire. As the door opened she was
heard,

“So very obliging of you! --No rain at all. Nothing to signify. I do not
care for myself. Quite thick shoes. And Jane declares--Well! --(as soon
as she was within the door) Well! This is brilliant indeed! --This is
admirable! --Excellently contrived, upon my word. Nothing wanting. Could
not have imagined it. --So well lighted up! --Jane, Jane, look! --did you
ever see any thing? Oh! Mr. Weston, you must really have had Aladdin’s
lamp. Good Mrs. Stokes would not know her own room again. I saw her as
I came in; she was standing in the entrance. ‘Oh! Mrs. Stokes,’ said
I--but I had not time for more. ” She was now met by Mrs. Weston. --“Very
well, I thank you, ma’am. I hope you are quite well. Very happy to hear
it. So afraid you might have a headache! --seeing you pass by so often,
and knowing how much trouble you must have. Delighted to hear it indeed.
Ah! dear Mrs. Elton, so obliged to you for the carriage! --excellent
time. Jane and I quite ready. Did not keep the horses a moment. Most
comfortable carriage. --Oh! and I am sure our thanks are due to you,
Mrs. Weston, on that score. Mrs. Elton had most kindly sent Jane a note,
or we should have been. --But two such offers in one day! --Never were
such neighbours. I said to my mother, ‘Upon my word, ma’am--. ’ Thank
you, my mother is remarkably well. Gone to Mr. Woodhouse’s. I made her
take her shawl--for the evenings are not warm--her large new shawl--
Mrs. Dixon’s wedding-present. --So kind of her to think of my mother!
Bought at Weymouth, you know--Mr. Dixon’s choice. There were three
others, Jane says, which they hesitated about some time. Colonel
Campbell rather preferred an olive. My dear Jane, are you sure you did
not wet your feet? --It was but a drop or two, but I am so afraid:--but
Mr. Frank Churchill was so extremely--and there was a mat to step
upon--I shall never forget his extreme politeness. --Oh! Mr. Frank
Churchill, I must tell you my mother’s spectacles have never been in
fault since; the rivet never came out again. My mother often talks of
your good-nature. Does not she, Jane? --Do not we often talk of Mr. Frank
Churchill? --Ah! here’s Miss Woodhouse. --Dear Miss Woodhouse, how do
you do? --Very well I thank you, quite well. This is meeting quite
in fairy-land! --Such a transformation! --Must not compliment, I know
(eyeing Emma most complacently)--that would be rude--but upon my word,
Miss Woodhouse, you do look--how do you like Jane’s hair? --You are
a judge. --She did it all herself. Quite wonderful how she does her
hair! --No hairdresser from London I think could. --Ah! Dr. Hughes I
declare--and Mrs. Hughes. Must go and speak to Dr. and Mrs. Hughes for a
moment. --How do you do? How do you do? --Very well, I thank you. This
is delightful, is not it? --Where’s dear Mr. Richard? --Oh! there he is.
Don’t disturb him. Much better employed talking to the young ladies. How
do you do, Mr. Richard? --I saw you the other day as you rode through
the town--Mrs. Otway, I protest! --and good Mr. Otway, and Miss Otway
and Miss Caroline. --Such a host of friends! --and Mr. George and Mr.
Arthur! --How do you do? How do you all do? --Quite well, I am much
obliged to you. Never better.
--Don’t I hear another carriage? --Who can
this be? --very likely the worthy Coles. --Upon my word, this is charming
to be standing about among such friends! And such a noble fire! --I am
quite roasted. No coffee, I thank you, for me--never take coffee. --A
little tea if you please, sir, by and bye,--no hurry--Oh! here it comes.
Every thing so good! ”

Frank Churchill returned to his station by Emma; and as soon as Miss
Bates was quiet, she found herself necessarily overhearing the discourse
of Mrs. Elton and Miss Fairfax, who were standing a little way behind
her. --He was thoughtful. Whether he were overhearing too, she could not
determine. After a good many compliments to Jane on her dress and look,
compliments very quietly and properly taken, Mrs. Elton was evidently
wanting to be complimented herself--and it was, “How do you like
my gown? --How do you like my trimming? --How has Wright done my
hair? ”--with many other relative questions, all answered with patient
politeness. Mrs. Elton then said, “Nobody can think less of dress in
general than I do--but upon such an occasion as this, when every body’s
eyes are so much upon me, and in compliment to the Westons--who I have
no doubt are giving this ball chiefly to do me honour--I would not wish
to be inferior to others. And I see very few pearls in the room except
mine. --So Frank Churchill is a capital dancer, I understand. --We shall
see if our styles suit. --A fine young man certainly is Frank Churchill.
I like him very well. ”

At this moment Frank began talking so vigorously, that Emma could not
but imagine he had overheard his own praises, and did not want to hear
more;--and the voices of the ladies were drowned for a while, till
another suspension brought Mrs. Elton’s tones again distinctly
forward. --Mr. Elton had just joined them, and his wife was exclaiming,

“Oh! you have found us out at last, have you, in our seclusion? --I was
this moment telling Jane, I thought you would begin to be impatient for
tidings of us. ”

“Jane! ”--repeated Frank Churchill, with a look of surprize and
displeasure. --“That is easy--but Miss Fairfax does not disapprove it, I
suppose. ”

“How do you like Mrs. Elton? ” said Emma in a whisper.

“Not at all. ”

“You are ungrateful. ”

“Ungrateful! --What do you mean? ” Then changing from a frown to a
smile--“No, do not tell me--I do not want to know what you mean. --Where
is my father? --When are we to begin dancing? ”

Emma could hardly understand him; he seemed in an odd humour. He walked
off to find his father, but was quickly back again with both Mr. and
Mrs. Weston. He had met with them in a little perplexity, which must be
laid before Emma. It had just occurred to Mrs. Weston that Mrs. Elton
must be asked to begin the ball; that she would expect it; which
interfered with all their wishes of giving Emma that distinction. --Emma
heard the sad truth with fortitude.

“And what are we to do for a proper partner for her? ” said Mr. Weston.
“She will think Frank ought to ask her. ”

Frank turned instantly to Emma, to claim her former promise; and
boasted himself an engaged man, which his father looked his most perfect
approbation of--and it then appeared that Mrs. Weston was wanting _him_
to dance with Mrs. Elton himself, and that their business was to help to
persuade him into it, which was done pretty soon. --Mr. Weston and Mrs.
Elton led the way, Mr. Frank Churchill and Miss Woodhouse followed.
Emma must submit to stand second to Mrs. Elton, though she had always
considered the ball as peculiarly for her. It was almost enough to make
her think of marrying. Mrs. Elton had undoubtedly the advantage, at this
time, in vanity completely gratified; for though she had intended to
begin with Frank Churchill, she could not lose by the change. Mr. Weston
might be his son’s superior. --In spite of this little rub, however,
Emma was smiling with enjoyment, delighted to see the respectable length
of the set as it was forming, and to feel that she had so many hours
of unusual festivity before her. --She was more disturbed by Mr.
Knightley’s not dancing than by any thing else. --There he was, among
the standers-by, where he ought not to be; he ought to be dancing,--not
classing himself with the husbands, and fathers, and whist-players, who
were pretending to feel an interest in the dance till their rubbers were
made up,--so young as he looked! --He could not have appeared to greater
advantage perhaps anywhere, than where he had placed himself. His tall,
firm, upright figure, among the bulky forms and stooping shoulders of
the elderly men, was such as Emma felt must draw every body’s eyes;
and, excepting her own partner, there was not one among the whole row of
young men who could be compared with him. --He moved a few steps nearer,
and those few steps were enough to prove in how gentlemanlike a manner,
with what natural grace, he must have danced, would he but take the
trouble. --Whenever she caught his eye, she forced him to smile; but
in general he was looking grave. She wished he could love a ballroom
better, and could like Frank Churchill better. --He seemed often
observing her. She must not flatter herself that he thought of her
dancing, but if he were criticising her behaviour, she did not feel
afraid. There was nothing like flirtation between her and her partner.
They seemed more like cheerful, easy friends, than lovers. That Frank
Churchill thought less of her than he had done, was indubitable.

The ball proceeded pleasantly. The anxious cares, the incessant
attentions of Mrs. Weston, were not thrown away. Every body seemed
happy; and the praise of being a delightful ball, which is seldom
bestowed till after a ball has ceased to be, was repeatedly given in
the very beginning of the existence of this. Of very important, very
recordable events, it was not more productive than such meetings usually
are. There was one, however, which Emma thought something of. --The two
last dances before supper were begun, and Harriet had no partner;--the
only young lady sitting down;--and so equal had been hitherto the
number of dancers, that how there could be any one disengaged was the
wonder! --But Emma’s wonder lessened soon afterwards, on seeing Mr. Elton
sauntering about. He would not ask Harriet to dance if it were possible
to be avoided: she was sure he would not--and she was expecting him
every moment to escape into the card-room.

Escape, however, was not his plan. He came to the part of the room where
the sitters-by were collected, spoke to some, and walked about in front
of them, as if to shew his liberty, and his resolution of maintaining
it. He did not omit being sometimes directly before Miss Smith, or
speaking to those who were close to her. --Emma saw it. She was not yet
dancing; she was working her way up from the bottom, and had therefore
leisure to look around, and by only turning her head a little she saw
it all. When she was half-way up the set, the whole group were exactly
behind her, and she would no longer allow her eyes to watch; but Mr.
Elton was so near, that she heard every syllable of a dialogue which
just then took place between him and Mrs. Weston; and she perceived that
his wife, who was standing immediately above her, was not only
listening also, but even encouraging him by significant glances. --The
kind-hearted, gentle Mrs. Weston had left her seat to join him and say,
“Do not you dance, Mr. Elton? ” to which his prompt reply was, “Most
readily, Mrs. Weston, if you will dance with me. ”

“Me! --oh! no--I would get you a better partner than myself. I am no
dancer. ”

“If Mrs. Gilbert wishes to dance,” said he, “I shall have great
pleasure, I am sure--for, though beginning to feel myself rather an old
married man, and that my dancing days are over, it would give me very
great pleasure at any time to stand up with an old friend like Mrs.
Gilbert. ”

“Mrs. Gilbert does not mean to dance, but there is a young lady
disengaged whom I should be very glad to see dancing--Miss Smith. ” “Miss
Smith! --oh! --I had not observed. --You are extremely obliging--and if I
were not an old married man. --But my dancing days are over, Mrs. Weston.
You will excuse me. Any thing else I should be most happy to do, at your
command--but my dancing days are over. ”

Mrs. Weston said no more; and Emma could imagine with what surprize and
mortification she must be returning to her seat. This was Mr. Elton! the
amiable, obliging, gentle Mr. Elton. --She looked round for a moment; he
had joined Mr. Knightley at a little distance, and was arranging himself
for settled conversation, while smiles of high glee passed between him
and his wife.

She would not look again. Her heart was in a glow, and she feared her
face might be as hot.

In another moment a happier sight caught her;--Mr. Knightley leading
Harriet to the set! --Never had she been more surprized, seldom more
delighted, than at that instant. She was all pleasure and gratitude,
both for Harriet and herself, and longed to be thanking him; and though
too distant for speech, her countenance said much, as soon as she could
catch his eye again.

His dancing proved to be just what she had believed it, extremely good;
and Harriet would have seemed almost too lucky, if it had not been for
the cruel state of things before, and for the very complete enjoyment
and very high sense of the distinction which her happy features
announced. It was not thrown away on her, she bounded higher than ever,
flew farther down the middle, and was in a continual course of smiles.

Mr. Elton had retreated into the card-room, looking (Emma trusted) very
foolish. She did not think he was quite so hardened as his wife, though
growing very like her;--_she_ spoke some of her feelings, by observing
audibly to her partner,

“Knightley has taken pity on poor little Miss Smith! --Very good-natured,
I declare. ”

Supper was announced. The move began; and Miss Bates might be heard from
that moment, without interruption, till her being seated at table and
taking up her spoon.

“Jane, Jane, my dear Jane, where are you? --Here is your tippet. Mrs.
Weston begs you to put on your tippet. She says she is afraid there will
be draughts in the passage, though every thing has been done--One door
nailed up--Quantities of matting--My dear Jane, indeed you must.
Mr. Churchill, oh! you are too obliging! How well you put it on! --so
gratified! Excellent dancing indeed! --Yes, my dear, I ran home, as I
said I should, to help grandmama to bed, and got back again, and
nobody missed me. --I set off without saying a word, just as I told you.
Grandmama was quite well, had a charming evening with Mr. Woodhouse, a
vast deal of chat, and backgammon. --Tea was made downstairs, biscuits
and baked apples and wine before she came away: amazing luck in some
of her throws: and she inquired a great deal about you, how you were
amused, and who were your partners. ‘Oh! ’ said I, ‘I shall not forestall
Jane; I left her dancing with Mr. George Otway; she will love to tell
you all about it herself to-morrow: her first partner was Mr. Elton,
I do not know who will ask her next, perhaps Mr. William Cox. ’ My dear
sir, you are too obliging. --Is there nobody you would not rather? --I am
not helpless. Sir, you are most kind. Upon my word, Jane on one arm, and
me on the other! --Stop, stop, let us stand a little back, Mrs. Elton is
going; dear Mrs. Elton, how elegant she looks! --Beautiful lace! --Now we
all follow in her train. Quite the queen of the evening! --Well, here we
are at the passage. Two steps, Jane, take care of the two steps. Oh! no,
there is but one. Well, I was persuaded there were two. How very odd!
I was convinced there were two, and there is but one. I never saw any
thing equal to the comfort and style--Candles everywhere. --I was telling
you of your grandmama, Jane,--There was a little disappointment. --The
baked apples and biscuits, excellent in their way, you know; but there
was a delicate fricassee of sweetbread and some asparagus brought in at
first, and good Mr. Woodhouse, not thinking the asparagus quite boiled
enough, sent it all out again. Now there is nothing grandmama loves
better than sweetbread and asparagus--so she was rather disappointed,
but we agreed we would not speak of it to any body, for fear of
its getting round to dear Miss Woodhouse, who would be so very much
concerned! --Well, this is brilliant! I am all amazement! could not have
supposed any thing! --Such elegance and profusion! --I have seen nothing
like it since--Well, where shall we sit? where shall we sit? Anywhere,
so that Jane is not in a draught. Where _I_ sit is of no consequence.
Oh!