Chapter Thirty-Seven
Leisurely, the dinner partakers rose from their seats to leave the dining room. Mr. Woodhouse respectfully led his oldest friend Mrs. Bates and guest of honour Miss Fairfax to the Green Parlour, Mr. Knightley, being the only other gentleman present, graciously offered his arms to Miss Bates and Mrs. Goddard, while Miss Taylor and Emma formed a pair following gracefully behind.
Upon reaching the parlour, the Hartfield Master invited his old friend Mrs. Bates to take seats in the armchairs by his dear hearth, Miss Taylor excused herself to see to that tea be brought into the parlour, and Mr. Knightley, Miss Bates and Mrs. Goddard formed a small circle in the middle of the room. As soon as Miss Bates was seated comfortably on the plush sofa, the good lady hardly waited for half a second to speak.
"That was the most scrumptious meal I have ever had!" relished the cheerful spinster. "How did you like the Swiss Cream, Mrs. Goddard, was not it the richest cream you have ever tasted? – Oh, you wished a little more sherry in the macaroons? – I thought there was plenty in those delicious treats! Was not the lemon rind in the cream divine? How did you like the Swiss Cream, Mr. Knightley? – Why, you prefer the Tipsy Cake instead! There were so much sherry in the cream and the cake," hiding the mirth behind her hand, the good vicar's daughter blushed, "my feet are feeling a little tipsy as we speak! – Did you know that Mr. Cole had found his gold watch, Mrs. Goddard? – Why, you know that he had placed a notice in the Highbury Gazette, do not you? Did you read the notice, Mr. Knightley? – Of course! Being the magistrate and our landlord you must be aware of things as such! – Oh, you did not, Mrs. Goddard? – Did I neglect to show it to you the day when Mrs. Cole gave me the clipping? I am sorry for it, how could I miss you? – Why yes, the notice particularly instructed the gold watch be returned to Mr. Sheppard, the Bookseller! – Here, here," Miss Bates successfully fished a piece of paper from her reticule, "it is still with me, let me read it to you..."
Mr. Knightley smiled and nodded at the two ladies politely as Miss Bates read from the clipping. He had indeed read the notice in the Gazette when it was printed, and been informed by Mr. Cole himself today on his way to the field that his gold watch had been returned, the news from Miss Bates had done little to capture his attention. In fact, presently, the gentleman's attention was captured by the scene at the bow-windowed alcove.
Ever since Emma was a bouncy little bundle of joy, Mr. Knightley had loved the open temper in the little girl, no other child the young gentleman ever knew had won his affection the way that little Emma did. The countless crotchets that came out of the mischievous child, the effervescent sparkles that shone from her vivacious eyes had been the source of his many open delights and amusements, as well as his constant, albeit unspoken, pride and joy. Nevertheless, reckoned the gentleman, the same nature that gave the precious child her liveliness was the very culprit that cultivated the lack of patience and industry traits in her.
Though Mr. Knightley would never trade the nonsensical girl for the most accomplished female scholar in the world, it was his belief that a little steadiness would be advantageous for the young child as she grew. But to the gentleman's dismay, Mr. Woodhouse was too indulgent of a father to provide any sort of guidance to his daughters. In the doting father's eyes, angels were what both his daughters were made of, not a fault could the father ever find in either of his daughters. Adding to his amazement, Mr. Knightley had seen far too many instances where little Emma charmed her way out of deserving chastisement from Miss Taylor. Though frustrated as he was at the governess's inability to place her charge under submission, who could fault anyone for succumbing to such precious child? Out of no selfish view, Mr. Knightley had taken upon himself and willingly gone beyond the call of duty to provide guidance to his very young friend. As difficult as it was, for even he was not immune to the child's charm, he had given Emma enough lectures and scolding that he feared one day the rascal would simply turn a deaf ear on him. After some careful considerations, the gentleman had come to a conclusion – Rather than relying on the spoiled child's own submission to sensible authority, which had proven to be little use, the surreptitious and powerful influence of a friend must be what Emma needed most.
There were times, before her removal to the Campbells, little Jane Fairfax was thought, by Mr. Knightley, to be the most desirable friend of choice for Emma. The steadiness and devoted nature in the granddaughter of the former vicar were the very virtues that would make a worthy friend of any young girls. But to his disappointment, through their childhood years, a friendship was never formed between the two, and his hope of a worthy friend for Emma grew faint.
Several years had passed, just when he thought that his hope shall remain futile, the most unexpected happened – In the course of a few months, Emma's friendship with Miss Anderton had proved his long-standing belief: When given the right friend, Emma's excellent qualities could be multiplied many folds. Had not Miss Anderton's excellent enticement helped Emma grow the tenacity for a craft that she never had the patience for? Where Miss Taylor's years of bidding had failed, was it not Emma's determination to win her friend's clever challenge that elevated her music skills to new height? And the spoiled child's ability of great kindness and bravery were manifested so beautifully by her desire to help the Anderton family and rescue their children from the escaped French prisoners, even Mr. Anderton, the obstinate father, was moved to regretting his forbiddance of the friendship between his daughter and the rich girl.
To the kind-hearted gentleman, it was not only a disappointment when the Andertons had to leave Donwell, it was downright worrisome to see how low Emma's spirit sank by the way she missed her friend. This was why, to Mr. Knightley, the news of Jane Fairfax coming to Highbury could not have come at a better time. Albeit Emma's initial reaction to the news was the utter opposite of his, her decision to give a dinner party in Jane Fairfax's honour had raised high hopes in him.
Unlike the young mistress whose view of her grown-up friend at dinner was obstructed by the clusters of Lilac on the dining table, Mr. Knightley, with the advantage of his superior height, was able to see Emma clearly over the beautiful centrepiece. Throughout dinner, while engaging Jane Fairfax in conversations, he had kept a keen eye on his young friend, observing her very carefully. Unfortunately, the sights at the dinner table were nothing of what the gentleman had expected. The empty gazes in Emma's eyes, her slouching shoulders, her hands propping up her chin looking decidedly insipid, barely speaking more than a few words the entire time, all of these had worried Mr. Knightley. Did Emma revert back her mind to its original state? Certainly she must understand the value of a female friendship by now, why was she still refusing to make a new friend? Was there no end to her stubborn young mind! And why would Miss Fairfax, her guest of honour, be sitting away from Mr. Woodhouse? Emma obviously had the intention to give the dinner in Jane Fairfax's honour, had not she the intention to honour her guest? Surely, Mr. Knightley reckoned, the guest of honour deserved attention from her hosts, which was why he had made particular effort to engage Jane Fairfax in conversations during dinner, to distract the young woman from feeling slighted by Emma and her father.
Anxiety and frustrations were stewing in Mr. Knightley until he had come into the Green Parlour and saw Emma entreating Jane Fairfax to take seats by the bow-windowed alcove with her – Could this mean that his obstinate friend was finally giving the idea of befriending Jane Fairfax a chance? Before the gentleman would allow his temporary relief grow into contentment, with half his mind given to Miss Bates and Mrs. Goddard, he would devote the other half to observing the scene unfolding afar...
It was a true misfortune that Jane Fairfax had only recently read the books on Emma's list, and the fact that the young woman's reserved nature had not changed with her appearance indeed dampened the desire in Emma to form a friendship with her. Nevertheless, Emma thought that it was very gracious of Jane Fairfax to give up her seat as the guest of honour to satisfy her father's wish. With a heart still warmed to the notion of making a new friend, Emma was keen on giving the notion another try.
"Miss Fairfax, thank you again for letting Miss Bates took your seat at dinner," once they settled in their chairs, Emma spoke sincerely to Jane.
Jane Fairfax returned with a polite smile, "It was nothing, Miss Woodhouse."
"As I was thinking at dinner that I ought to have placed you by my side, even though you could not sit with my father, that way, at least I would have been with you. I had made up the new seating arrangement in so much haste that the idea completely escaped my mind, I hope that you did not feel being neglected by me or by my father tonight!" Emma indeed chided herself for her oversight for most of the dinner.
"Oh no, Miss Woodhouse, I did not feel the slightest neglect. You and Mr. Woodhouse have been all kindness to me," replied Jane.
"Did you enjoy dinner, Miss Fairfax?" inquired the young hostess kindly.
"Very much, Miss Woodhouse," with lips curling up into a pretty crescent, "Mr. Knightley had kept me in pleasant conversations the entire time!" Jane Fairfax supplied with more animation than usual.
Emma was taken aback by the answer. She had meant to ask if Jane Fairfax had enjoyed the Hartfield cook's culinary creations, which had nothing to do with the conversations between the young woman and her grown-up friend. Unfortunately, listening to Jane Fairfax speaking so fondly of Mr. Knightley and watching the delightful smile blossoming on the restrained young woman's face had brought a disquieted feeling in her. Shifting uneasily in her seat, smoothing the invisible crease on her gown, Emma brushed aside that sudden nudge with little effort. Nevertheless, now that the subject of Jane Fairfax's conversations with Mr. Knightley had been brought up, she was eager to hear more about it.
"You seemed having a delightful conversation with Mr. Knightley at dinner. Every year Mr. Knightley tells me the amusing tales at the Donwell home-farm, and I have always loved listening to all his tales. Was Mr. Knightley telling you the number of fat cattle from his remainder that he sold? Or was he speaking of the calves his cows calved and the lambs his ewes laid thus far this spring?" The adorable images of sweet little lambs had brought a bright smile on Emma's face.
"No, Miss Woodhouse," replied Jane Fairfax, "Mr. Knightley and I were discussing the works of Mr. Milton and Mr. Watts."
"O-h..." the smile on Emma's face fell, she knitted her brows perplexedly, "I... I did not know that the works of Milton and Watts were so... so... amusing..."
"Their works are masterly, Miss Woodhouse! Mr. Knightley and I admire the works of these two great scholars excessively, and many of their works are both our favourites!" Another unrestrained smile of Jane Fairfax was on display.
From the time they exchanged curtsies to when they moved into the dining room, Emma had spent much effort in rousing Jane Fairfax's interest. She had inquired her guest of honour of her life with the Campbells, enticed her to read together with literature that suited her taste perfectly, but the endeavour of the young mistress had only afforded her a smile of no more than common courtesy from Jane Fairfax. The delightful smiles from the reserved young woman whenever Mr. Knightley's name was brought up had taken Emma completely by surprise. And to hear that her esteemed grown-up friend sharing favourites with Jane Fairfax had furrowed Emma's brows, and the disquieted feeling that she brushed off a minute ago arose again.
Although her mind bade her to leave the matter, her heart kept nudging her to find out more. Succumbing to her dismal self-control, Emma reluctantly asked, "And... what... what else... did you... and Mr. Knightley spoke of?"
"We spoke of the many places in Ireland that we have visited in the past." Jane Fairfax's smile seemed even lovelier now.
"You did!" astounded Emma.
Was it not but two hours ago that Jane Fairfax had eluded the subject of Ireland? She was decidedly taciturn when Emma asked her about Mr. Dixon's homeland. Then... what had caused this sudden change in her?
It only took a second for the fourteen-year-old to leap into a conclusion of her own – Because Mr. Knightley had a magical way of drawing, even the most reserved person, out whenever he wished, particularly those whom he was eager to speak with... Mr. Knightley... must be... eager to speak with Jane Fairfax!
The unwelcomed thought was twirling in Emma's head, along with the disquieted feeling that seemed to be growing a life of its own.
Now that Emma had unwisely opened her heart to that feeling of unrest, like moths flying straight into flame, without thinking what the next inquiry might do to her psyche, another probing question blurted out of her mouth, "What are the places that you and Mr. Knightley spoke of?"
Jane Fairfax replied without the slightest hesitation, "The Brú na Boinne, the Burren, the Hill of Tara, and Glendalough," her dark eyes kindling with enthusiasm, "these sites all bear historical significance to Ireland and are both Mr. Knightley's and my favourite places as well!"
Why did she ask! – Emma chided herself for being such a foolish girl – Of course they would speak of these places! These were the same places that Mr. Knightley had described to her in the past, and she had even closed her eyes picturing those magnificent places wondering if she would ever have the chance to be there in person. For her entire life she had not set one foot outside of Highbury, the farthest place she had ever gone was the abandoned brewery on the edge of town. Compared to Jane Fairfax, whose wings had soared over mountains and oceans, Emma's scanty feathers had not even lifted her feet off the ground. Jane Fairfax was well-learnt, well-travelled, well-accomplished – she was what... Emma... was not!
The suspicion that had faded to the back of her mind for two years was now in Emma's full view. No wonder – her aching heart silently decided – Mr. Knightley preferred Jane Fairfax over her!
Emma looked down at her hands, which had been twisted so badly that blotches of scarlet were all over them, she muttered dismally, "I am... glad... that you and... Mr. Knightley... have... so much... in common!"
A prolonged moment was needed for Emma to quiet that awful rackety feeling inside her. It was a true struggle, but at the end she had succeeded in steering her thoughts to more pleasant things. Naturally, whenever the fourteen-year-old was unhappy, images of her beloved Wobble would surface in her mind quelling the squall within. And a little voice inside the young mistress reminded her of the resolve that she had made before tonight, though that resolve had been reduced to almost nothing by now, Emma was ready to change the subject at any rate, and she decided to raise another question that she had planned on asking Jane Fairfax.
"Miss Fairfax, do you like puppies?" asked Emma, lightened by the thoughts of her precious pup, whose image had never failed to induce a winsome smile on her face.
"Puppies?" Jane Fairfax returned, riffling uneasily in her chair.
"Well, Wobble is not exactly a puppy anymore, he shall turn a year old in less than a month, but I promise you that he is just as adorable! Would you like to see him?"
Who would not wish to see an adorable puppy! – Emma was certain that Jane Fairfax would say yes.
"No!" the young woman yelped. It was a very distressed, fearful 'No'! "I do not want to see puppies or dogs," her finger nails scratching her neck before digging into her forearms. "Furs of animals cause my skin to itch and break into painful hives; I cannot be near any dogs... puppies... or the likes!"
This was why they did not suit! – Emma conceded silently, all her excitement vanished and the last vestige of her resolve dissolved, she looked even more crestfallen than before.
"I cannot believe Jane had grown so much in two years," marvelled Mrs. Goddard. "Such beautiful grey eyes, such lovely hair!"
"Oh, yes," echoed Miss Bates. "She gave Mother and me a start the day she was come back! We could hardly believe our eyes! You know, she was this tiny little girl, one barely noticed her when she was near; a stronger wind could have blown her away. Look how much she has grown! The air and food at the Campbells must be very agreeable with our Jane. Fifteen, only fifteen years old, is not she a beauty already?"
"She shall certainly be noticed by everybody now!" Mrs. Goddard exclaimed.
"Look at Jane and Miss Woodhouse, do not they look pretty together?" asked Miss Bates, drenching in contentment.
"Is not Miss Woodhouse the same age as Jane, how old is Miss Woodhouse now?" asked the schoolmistress.
"Why, yes, Miss Woodhouse and Jane are about the same age! But I am certain that Jane is older, for I could recall Fanny was as big as a house when Mrs. Woodhouse was still moving about with grace and ease when they were both with child... but... I cannot recall how far apart the two girls are... Ah, Mr. Knightley," shifting to the gentleman sitting silently next to her, Miss Bates asked, "do you know how old Miss Woodhouse is, is she fifteen? – Mr. Knightley..."
He had meant to give only half his attention to the scene by the bow-windowed alcove, but as it panned out, he was fully distracted by what was unfolding afar. Mr. Knightley had been observing the interactions between Emma and Jane Fairfax all the while when Miss Bates and Mrs. Goddard chatted; he was quite perplexed by what he saw. There were instances where Emma had looked quite animated, but for the most part, he noticed that the sparkles in her eyes kept on disappearing, and she was often looking down at her hands. Several times Mr. Knightley saw that the expression on Miss Fairfax very pleasant, she seemed excited by what Emma was telling or asking her, but then how come every time when Jane Fairfax was open to conversation, Emma would lose her interest and looked down for a long time? Was Emma getting bored with Jane Fairfax? Why would not Emma give a new friend a chance? How he wished he could hear the discourse between the two of them!
But when he suddenly heard his name, his puzzled reverie was interrupted, instantly, Mr. Knightley retracted his attention, clearing his throat, "Ahem... pardon me, you were asking..." his eyes first moved to Miss Bates and then Mrs. Goddard, unsure of which one of the two ladies had called his name.
"Oh, you were also looking at Jane, were not you, Mr. Knightley?" asked Mrs. Goddard. "Are you as surprised as we are by how she has grown into such a beautiful young woman?"
The gentleman did not answer; he only gave a polite smile.
If truth be told, as soon as he took seat next to Jane Fairfax at the dining table, he had noticed the significant changes in appearance in the young woman since two years before. But the beauty that struck Mrs. Goddard so much did not have the same effect on Mr. Knightley. As the gentleman used to think that Jane Fairfax had a great resemblance to her mother when she was a child, and from his excellent memory, he could still remember what Mrs. Fairfax had looked like before she was stricken, hence, now that the child had grown into a young woman with an air and face much like her mother's had come as little surprise to him.
"Mr. Knightley," Miss Bates interjected, "are not Miss Woodhouse and Jane about the same age? Jane had turned fifteen not long ago, is Miss Woodhouse about to turn fifteen?"
"Emma shall turn fifteen in three weeks," Mr. Knightley answered effortlessly.
"Oh, I knew it!" excited Miss Bates. "I knew that Jane and Miss Woodhouse were only a few months apart. Look at how pretty the two of them look when they are together, do not you think they make very pretty friends, Mr. Knightley?"
Mr. Knightley smiled wryly – If only Emma and Jane Fairfax were indeed friends, the gentleman could answer Miss Bates with a genuine smile.
"They really are the prettiest girls in Highbury!" exclaimed Mrs. Goddard. "Oh, did you notice Jane's eyes? They seemed getting greyer as she gets older."
"You know, Jane takes after her mother's eyes!" sighed Miss Bates, "Mother and I always see Fanny whenever we looked into Jane's eyes."
"I believe Mr. Bates had the same grey eyes, Miss Bates," with accuracy, Mr. Knightley recollected from his childhood memory.
"Oh!" Miss Bates gasped in sudden awakening. "You are right, Mr. Knightley! Father indeed had the same grey eyes! Mother used to say that Fanny's eyes were not as grey as Father's when she was younger. But as she grew, her eyes grew darker... you are right, Mr. Knightley, how could I miss noticing this before! Fanny certainly took her grey eyes after Father's, which means Jane's eyes are as dark as her Grandfather's eyes. What a lovely sentiment! Mother and I shall see both Father and Fanny when we look at Jane!" Miss Bates pulled out her handkerchief dabbing it lightly on her lashes. "Pardon me, Mrs. Goddard, what did you say? – Miss Woodhouse took after her father's eyes? – Oh, no, Mr. Woodhouse's eyes are brown, not the same colour as Miss Woodhouse's... Come to think of it, Miss Woodhouse has her mother's eyes... Mrs. Woodhouse had the same hazel colour in her eyes. I had always thought Mrs. Woodhouse's eyes beautiful. Are not Miss Woodhouse's eyes beautiful?"
"But I do prefer Jane's grey eyes," said Mrs. Goddard. "Look at her eyes... so deep, so dark... so mysterious... when one looks at Jane's eyes, it is like reading a book written in a tongue that one cannot understand!"
Mr. Knightley found Mrs. Goddard's description of Jane Fairfax's eyes intriguing, and he shifted to look at the young woman's eyes one more time. Indeed they were all that the schoolmistress had described – deep, dark, and mysterious. But just as he had always preferred the open temper in his young friend, he also preferred the brilliant eyes of Emma – The true hazel colour in Emma's eyes often reminded him of the rich earth that sustained lives, woods that gave birth to vibrant fire, Emma's eyes could coruscate sparkles that illuminated like precious pearls under the sun or beneath the moonshine, and there was nothing mysterious about Emma's hazel eyes, they spoke of openness, they spoke of liveliness, they spoke of her thoughts, her feelings, the mischief twirling in her head, the compassion suffusing her heart, and the joy that could spread like wildfire. Unfortunately, presently, Emma's eyes spoke none of the traits aforesaid. Instead, they seemed to be speaking disappointment, dejection, perhaps boredom (he was not certain,) and a multitude of feelings that he found hard to discern... the gentleman had a distinct feeling that his hope for a friendship between Emma and Jane Fairfax was like the flickering candles reflecting from Emma's hazel jewels – dim and fast fading!
Why were they looking at them? – When Emma looked up from her hands, she caught the eyes of those from the small circle in the middle of the parlour. Then, one stolen glance at Mr. Knightley, who had a pondering look about his face, the poor fourteen-year-old was thrust into panic – He must be wondering why Miss Fairfax looked so bored!
Emma stole another glance at Mr. Knightley, and she almost could not breathe!
He was looking at her now! – Emma's eyes had caught Mr. Knightley's, and her rackety heart clamoured within – And he was frowning... why was he frowning... was he... was he thinking that... that... she was neglecting Miss Fairfax? Come... Emma... say something to Jane Fairfax... anything...
Summoning as much calmness as she could manage, Emma swallowed the frenzy swelling inside, she said, "Miss Fairfax... do you... er... do you like walking as exercise?" She was glad to have remembered another question that she had planned on asking Jane Fairfax.
"Yes, I do, Miss Woodhouse."
"Then," through the corner of her eyes she saw that those at the circle were no longer watching them and Mr. Knightley had turned to speak to Miss Bates and Mrs. Goddard, Emma drew a silent breath of relief, finishing her speech with much more composure and ease, "would you like to exercise in our Hartfield shrubberies? It is a very pleasant walk, the length of our shrubberies is neither too long nor too short; there are plenty of benches to take small rests, and the shrubberies have ample shades perfect for ladies who do not wish their delicate complexion ruined or freckled by the sun!"
"It is very kind of you, Miss Woodhouse, but I have been accompanying my Aunt wherever she goes. I can assure you that I receive plenty of exercise by walking with my Aunt throughout the day."
At least she looked grateful for her offer!– was the comforting thought that Emma said to herself. At any rate, she understood how Miss Bates busied herself visiting everybody all day long, and she knew how the good lady liked to take her niece and her mother with her.
But, wonderments soon entered into Emma's mind – Did Jane Fairfax ever grow tired of Miss Bates' prattling? It must be tiresome to listen to her aunt's silly chatters all day long! And even when she was not making calls with Miss Bates, she would be trapped in the Bates' small apartment... poor girl!
As Emma was one who never comprehended how anyone could endure Miss Bates' endless babbles, suddenly, a sense of chivalry pervaded her bosom. Albeit her desire for a new friend had completely vanished, out of no selfish view, the fourteen-year-old sought and found a scheme in her head to save a fellow young lady from drowning in the Sea of Abysmal Blathers.
"Miss Fairfax," Emma began with knightly courage, "Miss Bates has told us how much you love the pianoforte; you must miss it during these weeks in Highbury. You are welcomed to come to Hartfield whenever you wish to practice on our pianoforte."
"Thank you, Miss Woodhouse, but I do not wish to trouble you," replied Jane Fairfax in her usual courteous manner.
Jane Fairfax's answer did not surprise Emma. Reckoned that the reserved young woman was being polite, Emma was sure that a little encouragement was all Jane Fairfax needed.
"It is no trouble at all, Miss Fairfax! Our Hartfield instrument is at your service, I would be delighted to share it with you whenever you come; we could take turns practicing and keep each other company."
Jane shook her head with a strained smile, "It is very kind of you Miss Woodhouse; I do not wish to impose on you," speaking with more and more conviction, "a few weeks without practicing shall not cause me any harm, I assure you!"
Was there no end to her restrains? – Emma had to wonder. The young mistress could not understand, she was sure that Jane Fairfax would take her offer. More encouragement must be necessary! – Emma felt even more determined to carry on her act of kindness now.
"Surely, Miss Fairfax, pray believe me when I say it is no trouble at all! I understand that your superior musical skill shall not suffer from a few weeks without practice, but the same cannot be said about your spirit, which shall suffer too much without the instrument that you love so dearly even only for a short time...
"Besides," leaning closer into Jane Fairfax, Emma lowered her voice to avoid the ear shot of those around, "an hour or two at Hartfield a day shall give you a chance to get away from your aunt..." but before she could finish, the shocking glare from Jane Fairfax startled the fourteen-year-old.
Seeing the need to make her intention plain as day, Emma quickly finished her speech, "Surely, as you are in the company of Miss Bates all day long, you must find her endless prattling tiresome! Do not you think that coming to Hartfield for practice shall give you a chance to get away from your aunt, a chance to breathe, even if it was for an hour or two?"
Jane Fairfax, looking veritably indignant, instantly sprang to her feet, her chair rasping the oaken floor had caused Mr. Woodhouse to cringe and all the eyes in the parlour turning to stare at the two young ladies.
With her chin lifted up high, but without a sound, Jane Fairfax lowered herself onto the chair in dignified fashion, and the eyes that had turned to look at the young ladies finally returned to their previous posts. Sitting as straight as a wooden pole, the usually reserved young woman spoke unreservedly to her hostess.
"I thank you for your concern, Miss Woodhouse, but I am not in need of getting away from my Aunt! The only thing that I am in need of is more time with my Aunt and my Grandmother. My situation requires me to be removed from those I love dearly, as I am only in Highbury for a few weeks, I fully intend on spending all my waking hours with the two people that are most important to me!"
Emma was thoroughly embarrassed by the fervent reaction that her offer had provoked in Jane Fairfax. She had thought that her suggestion was as genuine as it was kind in an effort to save a fellow young lady from Miss Bates' blathers which she had found tiresome all her life. But perhaps, being Miss Bates' dearly beloved niece, Emma now reckoned, Jane Fairfax must not feel the way she did!
If there were a hole near her, Emma would have crawled into it and dared not coming out until everybody had left Hartfield. But there was no such hole! And to complete her mortification, she saw the frown on Mr. Knightley's face when Jane Fairfax stood up.
He looked displeased! – Emma's sunken heart cried – He must think that she upset Jane Fairfax intentionally... Mr. Knightley must not be pleased with her!
After the fiasco, not a word was passed between Emma and Jane Fairfax. Feeling smaller than an infinitesimal creature, Emma sat quietly on her seat, staring at her fingers which had been twiddled to blotchy white and blue; she did not look up again for the duration until Miss Taylor announced that it was time for entertainment for their guests.
A/N: I know... poor Emma...
Some people think that Emma was a snob for not being kind to Jane Fairfax in the book, but they are puzzled by her love for Miss Taylor her governess, her willingness to befriend Harriet the parlour boarder, or be so kind and understanding to the poor at the parish. I have always believed that Emma and Jane were too different to be friends, they really did not suit, at least not when they were girls, and I have my imagination to prove it for my peace of mind...
Thank you so much for reading! :-)