"Mr Knightley!?"
Emma convinced herself that she could not have possibly heard right. How could Harriet be in love with Mr Knightley?! Mr Knightley who was the most superior being of her acquaintance?!
And in that moment, Emma realised something. That she should feel a slight aversion to Mr Knightley's being in love with Harriet could only be considered as natural. Indeed, it was most understandable that she would feel disappointment at the thought of being second in the heart and mind of Mr Knightley. But it wasn't mere disappointment that she felt, but a painful, agonising grief at the thought of Mr Knightley loving someone else more than her. But why? She demanded of herself this question several times before she had the courage to answer it. However, when she did finally admit to herself the reason, it hit her like a lightning bolt. I'm in love with Mr Knightley. Not the kind of love that would be dwindled away over time, not the love that she could stop herself feeling if she set her mind to it. No. The love she felt for Mr Knightley had been so long in the making that now she realised it was there, it was too late to do anything other than dwell on it. And dwell on it Emma did. Every fibre of her being pricked with jealousy at the thought of Harriet and Mr Knightley. Every nerve revolted at Harriet being the one to capture Mr Knightley's heart when she had no right to it.
But it was too late. Harriet had known her own feelings before Emma had even been conscious of the existence of hers, and this had meant that Harriet had been able to act in a way which had lately gained her more of Mr Knightley's attention. Hadn't Emma noticed it?! Hadn't she just passed it off as friendship and appreciation of Harriet's merits? It's all my fault. This was the thought that haunted Emma the most. She was the one who had made Harriet into the woman that had enticed Mr Knightley, the one who had forced them to be consistently in each other's company. I wish I had never met Harriet Smith was the only thought that flitted through Emma's head that made any sense, because she found it impossible to blame Harriet for falling in love with Mr Knightley when they were introduced. Who could resist him? This appeased her a little, for Emma could not suppose that Mr Knightley would never have met Harriet without her involvement. And if they were now in love – Emma found it difficult to swallow such an idea still.
She then had to face the most difficult decision. Should she encourage Harriet? Could she possibly find any way to be happy for them? Emma had read that when you love someone, you should want only for them to be happy, and she realised now that her happiness relied completely on Mr Knightley. Nevertheless, a small part of her whispered that he would only be truly happy when they were together.