One morning, about ten days after Mrs. Churchill’s decease, Mr. Weston came to Hartfield and wanted particularly to speak with Emma.
He met her at the parlour door, and in a low voice said, “Can you come to Randalls this morning? Mrs. Weston must see you.”
“Is she unwell?”
“No, no, not at all, but she must see you alone—can you come?”
“Certainly. It is impossible to refuse what you ask in such a way.” To guess what all this meant was impossible even for Emma. Something really important seemed announced by his looks.
They hurried on, and were speedily at Randalls.
“Well, my dear,” said Mr. Weston to his wife, as they entered the room, “I have brought Emma. I shall leave you together.”
Mrs. Weston was looking so ill that Emma’s uneasiness increased.
She eagerly said, “What is it, my dear friend?”
Mrs. Weston said, “Frank Churchill has been here this very morning on a most extraordinary errand. It is impossible to express our surprise. He came to speak to his father on a subject—to announce an attachment—” She stopped to breathe.
Emma thought first of herself and then of Harriet.
“More than an attachment, indeed,” resumed Mrs. Weston. “An engagement of marriage. What will you say, Emma, what will anybody say, when it is known that Frank Churchill and Miss Fairfax are engaged—nay, that they have long been engaged!”
Emma jumped with surprise and, horror-struck, exclaimed, “Jane Fairfax! Good God! You are not serious! You do not mean it!”
“It is so,” returned Mrs. Weston, still averting her eyes. “There has been a solemn engagement between them ever since October, formed at the Weymouth resort and kept a secret from everybody. Not a creature knowing it but themselves—neither the Campbells, nor her family, nor his.”
Emma scarcely heard what was said. Her mind was divided between two ideas—her own former conversations with him about Miss Fairfax and poor Harriet.
“Engaged to her all winter, before either of them came to Highbury?”
“It has hurt me, Emma, very much. It has hurt his father equally. Some part of his conduct we cannot excuse.”
Emma pondered a moment and then replied, “Please let me assure you that, in the early part of our acquaintance, I did like him and I was very much disposed to be attached to him. Fortunately, however, it did cease. I have really for some time, for at least three months, cared nothing about him. You may believe me, Mrs. Weston. This is the simple truth.”
Mrs. Weston kissed her with tears of joy.
“Mr. Weston will be much relieved,” said she. “It was our wish that you might be attached to each other, and we were persuaded that it was so. Imagine what we have been feeling on your account.”
“I must say, Mrs. Weston, that I think he bears great blame. What right had he to come among us with such affection and attention while he really belonged to another? It was very wrong, indeed.”
“Now, dear Emma, I must defend him. For though he has been wrong in this instance, I have known him long enough to answer for his having many, very many, good qualities, and—”
“Good God!” cried Emma. “Jane has accepted a position as governess. How could he allow her to accept the position?”
“He knew nothing about it, Emma. When he learned of it, he decided to come forward and reveal his secret engagement.”
Emma began to listen better.
“I am to hear from him soon,” continued Mrs. Weston. “Do not let us be in a hurry to condemn him. Now that I know, I am sincerely anxious for all turning out well. They must both have suffered a great deal under such secrecy.”
“His sufferings,” replied Emma dryly, “do not appear to have done him much harm. Well, how did his uncle Mr. Churchill take it?”
“Most favourably for his nephew—he gave his consent with hardly any difficulty. Scarcely are Mrs. Churchill’s remains at rest in the family vault than her husband acts exactly opposite to what she would have wished. What a blessing it is when influence does not survive the grave!”
“Well,” said Emma, “I suppose we shall gradually grow reconciled to the idea, and I wish them very happy. But here have we been the whole winter and spring completely duped.”
At this moment, Mr. Weston appeared at a little distance from the window. His wife invited him in and, while he was coming round, she added, “Now, dearest Emma, let me beg you to say you are satisfied with the match. Let us make the best of it. Frank is very fortunate to be engaged to a girl of such steadiness of character and good judgement.” And, she might have added, she will turn Frank’s eyes from black to red, and Jane Fairfax will be none the paler for it.
Emma met Mr. Weston upon his entrance with a smiling face, exclaiming, “I congratulate you, Mr. Weston, with all my heart, on the prospect of having one of the most lovely and accomplished young women in England for your daughter.”
A glance between Mr. Weston and his wife convinced him that all was as right as this speech proclaimed, and its happy effect on his spirits was immediate. He became perfectly reconciled, thinking it the very best thing that Frank could possibly have done.
Mr. Weston then said, “I have met recently with Mr. Knightley, and I believe we are close to finalising our plan to rid Highbury of the wretched creatures in our midst. Dear Emma, we value your friendship and wooden stake immensely!”