Harriet had small heart for visiting the Martins. Only half an hour before Emma came to pick her up at Mrs. Goddard’s, she had seen Mr. Elton’s trunk being lifted into the cart to be conveyed to Bath for his wedding.
Harriet went with Emma, however, her protective silver cross gleaming on her neck and her wooden stake tied to her thigh. When they reached the Martins’ farm, the sight of everything which had given her so much pleasure the summer before, including the cow that Mr. Martin had hoisted above his head, revived a bit of anxiety.
When they parted, Emma observed Harriet to be looking round with a sort of fearful curiosity, which made Emma decide not to allow the visit to exceed the proposed quarter of an hour.
***
Emma returned punctually to the white gate again after the allotted time, and Harriet walked alone down the gravel path—Elizabeth Martin just appearing at the door. It seemed to Emma that she parted with ceremonial politeness.
Harriet could not immediately talk about the visit—she was feeling too much emotion. But at last Emma collected from her enough to understand the pain it caused. Mr. Robert Martin was absent—Harriet had seen only Mrs. Martin and the two girls.
They had received her doubtingly, if not coolly; and nothing beyond the merest courtesies had been talked almost all the time—till just at the end, when Mrs. Martin said, all of a sudden, that she thought Miss Smith was more mature and had a warmer manner, and that she was grateful that her son had saved Harriet from the wild vampire.
They all seemed to be ready to return to the same good understanding, just growing again to like each other, when Emma’s carriage reappeared, and it all was over.
The style of the visit and the shortness of it were then felt to be insulting. Fourteen minutes to be given to those with whom she had spent two months! Emma pictured it all and felt how resentful they must have been and how naturally Harriet must have suffered. It was a bad business.
Emma would have given a great deal for the Martins to have had a higher rank in society. They were so deserving that a little higher would have been enough. But as it was, how could she have done otherwise? Impossible! Harriet and Mr. Robert Martin must be separated—there would be no more midnight walks in the moonlight, Harriet holding Robert’s cold, pale hand—but there was a great deal of pain in the process.
Emma and Harriet returned to Hartfield, and when they arrived, Mr. and Mrs. Weston were standing outside to speak to Emma. There was instant pleasure in the sight of them.
Mr. Weston immediately accosted her with, “How d’ye do? We have been sitting with your father—glad to see him so well. We have wonderful news! Frank Churchill comes tomorrow. I had a letter this morning. He comes for a fortnight—I knew it would be so! We shall enjoy him completely; everything has turned out exactly as we could wish.”
There was no resisting such a happy face as Mr. Weston’s, confirmed by the face of Mrs. Weston. The worn-out past was replaced by the freshness of what was coming; and Emma hoped that Mr. Elton would now be talked of no more.
“I shall bring him over to Hartfield,” said Mr. Weston. “But you must not expect such a very fine young man; I daresay he is really nothing extraordinary.” But his own sparkling pale blue eyes at the moment were speaking a very different conviction.
Emma’s spirits were mounted quite up to happiness; everything wore a different air. When she turned round to Harriet, she saw something like a look of spring, a tender smile even there.
***
The morning of the interesting day arrived, and while walking downstairs from her room Emma told herself, “My dear, dear anxious friend, always over-careful for everybody’s comfort but your own; I see you now in all your little fidgets, thinking of the possibility of Mr. Frank Churchill calling here. I am sure they will bring him soon.”
She opened the parlour door and saw two gentlemen sitting with her father—Mr. Weston and his son Frank. They had arrived only a few minutes before.
Mr. Woodhouse was yet in the midst of his very civil welcome and congratulations when Emma appeared to have her share of surprise, introduction, and pleasure.
The Frank Churchill so long talked of, so high in interest, was actually presented to her. He was a very good-looking young vampire, with black hair and eyes, and pale white skin; height, air, address, and enchanting scent all were exceptional, and his countenance had a great deal of the spirit and liveliness of his father’s.
Emma felt immediately that she would like him; and there was a well-bred ease of manner and a readiness to talk, which convinced her that he came intending to be acquainted with her and that acquainted they soon must be.
“It is a great pleasure to be here,” said the young man, with an easy smile that revealed near-fanglike teeth.
Emma was sure that Frank Churchill knew how to make himself agreeable. He was very much pleased with Randalls, thought it a most admirably arranged house, admired Highbury, admired Hartfield still more, and professed to have always felt an interest in the country and the greatest curiosity to visit it. His manner had no air of study or exaggeration. He did really look and speak as if in a state of uncommon enjoyment.
Their subjects in general were appropriate for an opening acquaintance. On his side were the inquiries: “Was Emma a horsewoman? Pleasant walks? Had they a large neighbourhood? A boarding school for young maidens? Balls—had they balls? Was it a musical society? Was the weather sufficiently cool and cloudy?”
When satisfied on all these points, while their two fathers were engaged with each other, Frank mentioned his mother-in-law, Mrs. Weston, and speaking of her with so much handsome praise, so much warm admiration, so much gratitude for the happiness she secured to his father and her very kind reception of himself was an additional proof of his knowing how to please—and of his certainly thinking it worthwhile to try to please Emma.
Then Frank spoke of Mrs. Weston’s youth and beauty.
“Elegant, agreeable manners, I was prepared for,” said he, “but I confess that I did not know I was to find a pretty young woman in Mrs. Weston.”
“You cannot see too much perfection in Mrs. Weston for my feelings,” said Emma.
Emma wondered whether Frank’s compliments were designed to please her. She must see more of him to understand his ways; at present she felt they were entirely agreeable.
She had no doubt what Mr. Weston was thinking about. She detected his quick eye again and again, glancing towards herself and Frank with a happy expression—and even when he was not looking, she was confident that he was often listening, for his hearing was as acute as Mr. Knightley’s.
A reasonable visit paid, Mr. Weston said, “Frank must be going. He has a great many errands for Mrs. Weston.”
His son, too well bred not to hear the hint, rose immediately, saying, “Miss Woodhouse, I shall also take the opportunity of paying a visit to a neighbour of yours, a lady residing in Highbury—a family of the name of Fairfax. I shall have no difficulty, I suppose, in finding the house; though Fairfax, I believe, is not the proper name—I should rather say Bates. Do you know any family of that name?”
“To be sure, we do,” cried Mr. Weston. “Mrs. Bates—we passed her house—I saw Miss Bates at the window, looking this way and that for vagrant vampires. True, I remember you are acquainted with Miss Fairfax from the Weymouth resort, and a fine girl she is. Call upon her, by all means.”
“There is no necessity for my calling this morning,” said the young man. “Another day would do as well; but there was that degree of acquaintance at Weymouth which—”
“Oh! Go today. Do not defer it. What is right to be done cannot be done too soon. And, besides, I must give you a hint, Frank; any lack of attention to Miss Fairfax should be carefully avoided. In London, she was the equal of everybody she mixed with, but here she is with a poor old grandmother. If you do not call early, it will be a slight.”
The son looked convinced.
“I have heard Miss Fairfax speak of her acquaintance with you,” said Emma. “She is a very elegant young woman.”
Frank agreed to it, but with so quiet a yes as made Emma almost doubt his real eagerness.
“If you were never particularly struck by her manners before,” said Emma, “I think you will be today. You will see her and hear her—no, I am afraid you will not hear her at all, for she has an aunt who never holds her tongue.”
“You are acquainted with Miss Jane Fairfax, sir, are you?” said Mr. Woodhouse, always the last to make his way in conversation. “Then let me assure you that you will find her a very agreeable young lady. She is staying here on a visit to her grandmamma and aunt, very worthy people; I have known them all my life.”
With a cordial nod from one and a graceful bow from the other, the two gentlemen took leave. Emma remained very well pleased with this beginning of the acquaintance and could now engage to think of them all at Randalls any hour of the day with full confidence in their comfort.