A Lady and a 'Gentleman'
Chapter Seven: From Mother with Love
As with all other Monday evenings, Emma had invited Mrs. Bates, Miss Bates and Mrs. Goddard to dine at Hartfield. And as usual, supper was filled with scrumptious creations from the cook, Serle, as well as non-stop chattering from their old friend, Miss Bates….
"Oh! My dear Mr. Woodhouse and Mrs. Knightley – it's so kind of you to invite us tonight, and every Monday night– we love coming to Hartfield, mother loves coming to Hartfield, don't you mother? She always has – oh, we are missing Mr. Knightley, where is Mr. Knightley tonight? – Brentwood! – it's unfortunate that Mr. Knightley is out of town, a fortnight is a long time – how I wish Mr. Knightley is with us, he is such a good friend – Where did he go? – oh, yes, yes, Brentwood, that's right – did I tell you that mother loves coming to Hartfield? She always has and I do too – so kind of you to have us here every Monday – oh! Jane wrote – yes, she wrote again! She writes every week… she always has since she was a little girl. We received her letter this morning - it was five pages long… FIVE pages! She and Frank visited the Campbells and the Dixions… they had a wonderful time! She and Frank are so happy – so very happy indeed – what a great match, Jane is so accomplish and so beautiful…and Frank is so handsome… no one is good enough for our Jane… except for Frank of course, don't you think, Mrs. Knightley?…"
Supper was followed by a game of backgammon. After settling her father at the backgammon table, and having tea brought in for her father and all the guests, Emma excused herself to go to her chamber as everyone focused their attention on the game. On any other Monday evenings, her mind would have been cluttered with words from the chatters of Miss Bates; but tonight, all she could think of was the conversation with Mrs. Thompson earlier in the day. As she stood on the landing on top of the second floor staircase, her eyes were drawn to the staircase to the attic. She remembered what Mrs. Thompson told her about her mother's things and the chest that held her gentleman clothing. Instead of waiting for Mrs. Thompson's visit to Hartfield the next day, she could not resist to take a look at them tonight.
With a candle in her hand, she quietly walked up the stairs and slowly opened the door. It was dark and cold with a musty smell - no one had been in there for many years. The room was nearly filled with pieces of old furniture - her mother's dressing-table, her linen drawers, her dresser, and the lavender floral fabric arm-chair that she used to sit on in the drawing-room; there were also some of Isabella's old furniture - Isabella's crib which was passed down to Emma and moved to the attic after it was outgrown, her first dressing-table and chair set, and her pink dresser; there were even some old toys - the wooden building blocks, Bilboquette, Cup and Ball, and the bride and groom dolls, etc, all of which she and Isabella used to play when they were children.
Lifting up the candle higher to get a broader view of the room, she spotted a large cedar chest all the way in the back, and thought, "That must be the one!"
She weaved her way through the old furniture, and then set the candle down on her mother's old dresser next to the cedar chest and discovered that the chest was locked. She reached into her pocket for the key that her father gave her, the one that opened the small cedar chest that held her mother's likenesses in her father's chamber, which now was in her closet.
"Hum… This is not the right key… " She was disappointed; then a thought dawned on her, "Ah! There was a key with the portraits… would that be the right key?"
She picked up the candle from the dresser, went downstairs to her room, removed the small cedar chest from her closet, opened the chest and took the key out, then went back to the attic.
"Yes! This is the right key." She was excited to have unlocked the chest and pushed the lid open.
"Oh… Mama's gentleman clothes… they've been in here all these years!" Stroking her mother's clothes ever so gently, "And her gentleman shoes… they are so much smaller than men's, must have been specially made for her."
Emma marveled at all the gentleman things that used to belong to her mother. They were all very fine and had been preserved impeccably in the cedar chest. There were three sets of gentleman shirts, vests, waistcoats, and trousers, two pairs of gentleman shoes, a wig, a top hat and… a small package wrapped in an exquisite light blue silk scarf.
Wondering what gentleman item could be wrapped up in such an exquisite scarf, she gently removed the package from the chest, set it on the dresser next to the candle, and then un-wrapped the package - there were two small bundles inside the package, one tied with a very pretty laced pink ribbon, the other with the same patterned laced ribbon but in the color yellow. She picked up one of the bundles and turned it around in her hand to examine what it was.
"Mmmm… these look like letters…" She could not believe herself when she realized that, "Oh! These are letters from Mama to me and Isabella! Pink used to be Isabella's favorite color… Mama tied her letters to Isabella with pink ribbon and mine with yellow, which was my favorite color when I was a little girl!"
Emma was surprised beyond words to see letters addressed to her and Isabella in her mother's handwriting - she wanted to open her letters immediately. As she was untying the bundle, she thought that she ought to check the time on her watch, "Oh… It's eight o'clock, they must be leaving and father will need his gruel soon."
Quickly tying her letters back in a bundle and wrapping both bundles with the silk scarf, she closed the cedar chest lid and locked the chest back up, then picked up the candle and the wrapped package and left the attic. Before returning downstairs to her father and their guests, she went into her chamber to set the package on the small table next to her side of the bed.
Emma sent Mrs. Bates, Miss Bates and Mrs. Goddard off with James in their carriage, waited for her father to finish his gruel as patiently as she could, escorted him to his chamber and settled him in bed; then immediately retiring to her own chamber and changing into her nightgown before climbing into bed.
When George was at home, she would never stay on her side of the bed, except two nights ago when she was angry with him. They always cuddled and she would fall asleep either in his arms or right next to him. Tonight, she sat alone on her side of the bed, missing him. Hugging his pillow close to herself and gazing at her mother's letters, she said, "Goodnight, George, I know you can't hear me, but I want to tell you that I miss you! Mama will keep me company tonight and I will tell you all about her when you come home."
After putting down the pillow, she un-wrapped the small package, untied the yellow ribbon bundle and took the letter on top in her hand. The anticipation of reading her mother's words caused her hands to tremble. She wondered when her mother wrote these letters, why she wrote them, what she wanted to say to Emma before her passing that never made it to her until tonight.
Slowly she unfolded the letter and started reading…
February 20th, 1798
Hartfield
My dearest Emma,
Today is your fourth birthday, my little angel! (Her mother used to call her 'little angel' all the time. But Emma had not heard her voice for too long and forgotten what she sounded like. At the sight of her words, she could almost hear her mother calling her 'little angel' again!) Mama has decided to start writing to you and Isabella, because I don't think I will be with you, Isabella and Papa for very long. And I think by the time you are able to read this letter all by yourself, Mama has gone to be with your Grandpapa way up high in heaven where you can't see us. But please be assured that Mama and Grandpapa can always see you and watch over you wherever you are. (Emma nodded, for she had always believed that her mother was watching over her no matter where she was.)
I can't believe you are already four! I know every mother says the same thing that it was like yesterday when her child was born, but it is true! It really feels like it was yesterday when you were born… did you know that you looked like a little prune when you came out of Mama's womb? (A warm smile came onto Emma's face as she said amusingly "Really?") When you were born, you only had a few strands of blonde hair on top of your little head, with long legs and arms and a dark wrinkled face; other than the first cry to clear your lungs, there's never much tears coming out of those bright little eyes of yours!
You look so different now... I don't know how you went from nearly bald-headed at the age of one to a mass of long blonde curls at four! And your little dark wrinkled face was long gone, everyone says you have the most beautiful, angelic face they have ever seen, and I have to agree with them… but as your Mama, I think I'm allowed to be a little partial, don't you think? (With a bright smile Emma nodded.)
Both Papa and Mama were very surprised at how different you were from Isabella as a newborn. You and Isabella were the complete opposites – Isabella had a full head of brown hair, with chubby little arms and legs, and a ferocious cry when she was born. Even now, you and Isabella are different in many ways… sometimes I still wonder how could two children from the same set of parents be so different! Isabella is very much like your Papa both in body and spirit, while you, I think, is more like me, my little muffin. Isabella is gentle and delicate, where you are lively and clever; Isabella is serious and focus, while you, even at age four, have a great sense of humor and are already contrive; Isabella enjoys quiet plays such as reading, sewing, playing the piano forte, but you love being a little busybody and the center of attention. In spite of all your differences, Mama and Papa love you both the same, and I'm so happy to see that you two love each other dearly and share the same kind-heartedness that your Papa has.
There is one thing I must tell you, my little Emma – it doesn't matter what you look like on the outside, it is what's inside that matters the most! At age four, you are too young to understand this, but when you get older, you will learn that a kind heart is much more beautiful than a pretty face. Your Papa is the most generous and charitable man I ever know. He has the kindest heart any man could ever have and that is why I love your Papa so much; and I am certain that he will set a wonderful example for you and Isabella to follow as you grow! (Emma agreed wholeheartedly with her mother, for she and Isabella had witnessed her father's kindness and generosity their whole lives. And they indeed had strived to be like their father in giving and helping those in need around them.)
With endless love and kisses,
Mama
For years Emma had wondered what it was like to have a mother, to have a taste of her mother's love – how sweet and wonderful it was to have tasted it tonight! She could sense that every word in the letter was written with the deepest love and affection from her mother. Pressing the letter to her heart, never had she felt so close to her mother for as long as she could remember!
She couldn't wait to read more – gently unfolding another letter from the bundle, expectantly she read on…
March 15 th, 1798
Hartfield
My dearest Emma,
It's Mama again, my little angel! I hope you like reading my letters. ("Oh! Mama, I love reading your letters, you don't know how precious they are to me!" Emma whispered earnestly.) It has been very comforting for me to know that one day you'll be reading my words after I have gone to be with Grandpapa. You won't see my person, but you'll always have my letters to remind you of my love for you!
It was very kind of Mrs. Knightley and Mr. John to visit us today. It's always a delight to have the Knightleys at Hartfield, and Mama has a great admiration for the kind Mrs. Knightley. Ever since Mr. Knightley's sudden passing eighteen months ago, Mrs. Knightley has been holding down the Knightley family on her own; she has always been the most gracious lady I ever met, but witnessing her quiet strength the last year and a half truly has been an honor. I still remember the first time I met Mr. and Mrs. Knightley… it was at their Christmas Eve dinner party, only the second day after I removed to Highbury from London. I had never met such kind and unpretentious people before; and my first impression of Mrs. Knightley was that she was a true beauty inside and out; never in my life have I met a lady who's more beautiful and graceful!
The Woodhouses and the Knightleys have been friends and neighbors for generations. Mr. Knightley was your Papa's best friend all his life, as anyone could imagine, losing him was extremely difficult to your Papa. I'm very grateful for Mr. Young George Knightley, perhaps I should call him Mr. Knightley now that he's at age twenty, after his father's passing, despite his own grieve over the death of his father, Mr. Knightley knew your Papa was missing his father immensely, so he visited your Papa regularly, spending time with him, talking to him as his father used to do until he had to leave for Oxford for his education. I really don't know how low your Papa would have sunk under if not for the comfort and kind attention from Mr. Knightley! (Emma was excited to see how fondly her mother thought of George, "You know, Mama, George has been wonderful to Papa all these years, he resumed his visits to Papa as soon as he came back from Oxford!")
Mama no longer has the strength to leave the house, and it is so kind and thoughtful of Mrs. Knightley to visit us almost every other day. Mr. John has been coming with Mrs. Knightley during their visits. I remember the first time I met Mr. John… it was two days after the Christmas Eve dinner party, your Papa and I were visiting the Knightleys to inquire after Young George, for he had a mild cold two days prior which prevented him from attending the Christmas Eve dinner party with us. Little John had turned one two months before, and was just able to walk by himself. He gave your Papa a fright when he grabbed the tray of tea biscuits and threw it onto the floor. Mr. and Mrs. Knightley were very sorry that he wasn't caught in time, and explained that Little John was getting frustrated for not able to take hold of the teapot on the other side of the table thus threw a little temper tantrum. Mrs. Knightley said that the two brothers were very different, because Young George would never do that when he was at the same age, for he would have gone around the table to get to the teapot instead. (Emma smiled in amusement, "I supposed the two Knightley brothers haven't changed that much since they were one!") Both Mr. and Mrs. Knightley had such a wonderful loving attitude, they said that their children were special in their own ways and they loved them both the same. Now that I have you and Isabella as living examples, I cannot agree with them more!
Mr. John is no longer a little toddler, he is now a young man of thirteen. He and Isabella have become very good friends. Even though he could still be temperamental at times, Mr. John is always very gentle with Isabella, it's very nice to see him treating Isabella as a young gentleman to a young lady; he even played tea-party with Isabella! Isn't it precious? Sometimes I wonder what will become of Mr. John and Isabella in a few years! ("Ah! Mama, were you matchmaking John and Isabella?" Emma thought that her mother would have been happy to know that John and Isabella did fall in love and marry ten years after she wrote this letter.)
And you, my little darling, with your angelic face and sparkling hazel eyes and a smile that can cast away all glooms, steals everyone's heart! Needless to say that you have stolen Mama and Papa's hearts the moment you were born, but even Mrs. Knightley can't take her eyes off of you whenever she sees you. She keeps saying that if she had a daughter, she would have wanted her to be just like you. You charming little one! (The thought of George's mother, her mother-in-law, who adored her as a child, probably would have approved of her match with George delighted Emma tremendously.)
I could tell that even Mr. Knightley finds you irresistible - Every time when he comes to visit after returning from Oxford between school-semesters, he spends half his time with Papa and the other half talking, reading or playing with you. I am amazed at the patience he has with a four year old child; and you know… you do try one's patience at times with your endless questions of why, why not, what is it, what are you doing, etc. Both Mrs. Knightley and I find it amusing to listen in on your conversations with Mr. Knightley, at age four you could carry on a lengthy conversation that's well beyond your years, and I could tell that Mr. Knightley is really taken by your cleverness and enjoys chatting with you very much like he would with an adult. The age difference of sixteen years makes no difference on your friendship… but this could change soon in the future, my little Emma. Mr. Knightley will be at the age of meeting ladies soon, and one day some lucky woman will be capturing his heart, and I hope you won't be disappointed when he can't be your friend anymore. ("But Mama… Mr. Knightley never ceased being my friend; and I am the lucky woman who captures his heart! Not only that we are best friends, we are husband and wife now! Isn't it wonderful?" Although her mother could not have foretold Mr. Knightley falling in love with her little girl at the time when she wrote this letter, Emma was certain that she could see all that had happened on earth from heaven above.)
My dearest Emma, Margaret was my only friend when I was growing up, and I had always felt fortunate to have even one friend. Since I've removed to Highbury, I have been blessed with kind friends like the Bates, and especially the Knightleys. They have treated and loved us like their own family, which has taught me the importance of genuine friendship. As you continue to grow, you'll have your own friends, Emma, and it is my sincere hope that you will always treasure your friendships, and treat all your friends with truth and sincerity, and love them as you would your very own family.
With eternal love and affection,
Mama
Upon her mother's counsel on friendship, Emma realized that she herself scarcely had friends when she was growing up. Although all her life she had been blessed with Mr. Knightley being there for her as her friend, advisor, and now husband, as for having friends of her age and sex, she really was like her mother. She thought of Isabella, for her first thirteen years, her dear sister had given her everything that she needed in a friend as well as an older sister; she thought of Miss Taylor, who had been her dear friend and companion after Isabella married and removed to London, until she married Mr. Weston; she thought of Jane Fairfax, whom she was never fond of to befriend with when they were girls, but everyone, including Mr. Knightley, thought would be the perfect choice of friend for her because of her age and accomplishments. Then she came to think of Harriet… she felt ashamed of herself that for almost the entire first year of their friendship, her meddling had done more harm than good to her friend – first she persuaded Harriet to refuse Mr. Robert Martin's marriage proposal, then she led her to believe that Mr. Elton was in love with her! She was grateful that through fate no lasting injuries were committed to Harriet by herself, nonetheless her heart was greatly troubled by the thought of her own blunders; how she wished her mother was alive to instill these principles in her when she was young – they might have prevented her from committing all her follies.
She could not help to turn back time, but she was thankful that at least her mother's guidance had found its way to her at last, and she vowed to live by it the best she could from this night forward. Pressing a kiss gently on the letter, she quietly thanked her mother for her love and teaching before setting the letter down and putting out the candle next to her bed to retire for the night.
A/N: Several years ago I read an article on the true story of a dying mother with a two year old daughter. She was stricken with terminal cancer and all she wanted was for her daughter to know how much she loved her. She recorded many messages with a video camera over the course of her remaining life and left special messages for her daughter to view as she grew. The article did not go into the content of the messages, but I was deeply touched by the story, and it was the inspiration of Mrs. Woodhouse' letters to Emma.
