Austen Said:

Perhaps they began to feel it might have been kinder and wiser to have resisted the temptation of any delay, and spared her from a taste of such enjoyments of ease and leisure as must now be relinquished. Still, however, affection was glad to catch at any reasonable excuse for not hurrying on the wretched moment.

With regard to her not accompanying them to Ireland, her account to her aunt contained nothing but truth, though there might be some truths not told. It was her own choice to give the time of their absence to Highbury; to spend, perhaps, her last months of perfect liberty with those kind relations to whom she was so very dear: and

the Campbells,

whatever might be their motive or motives, whether single, or double, or treble, gave the arrangement their ready sanction, and

said, that

Certain it was that she was to come; and that Highbury, instead of welcoming that perfect novelty which had been so long promised it— Mr. Frank Churchill —must put up for the present with Jane Fairfax, who could bring only the freshness of a two years' absence.

Emma was sorry;—

Why she did not like Jane Fairfax might be a difficult question to answer;

Mr. Knightley had once told her

and though the accusation had been eagerly refuted at the time, there were moments of self-examination in which her conscience could not quite acquit her. But

These were her reasons —she had no better.

It was a dislike so little just — —every imputed fault was so magnified by fancy, that she never saw Jane Fairfax the first time after any considerable absence, without feeling that she had injured her; and now, when the due visit was paid, on her arrival, after a two years' interval,

she was particularly struck with

Emma could not but feel all this;

Her eyes, a deep grey, with dark eye-lashes and eyebrows, had never been denied their praise; but the skin, which she had been used to cavil at, as wanting colour, had a clearness and delicacy which really needed no fuller bloom.

In short, she sat, during the first visit, looking at Jane Fairfax with twofold complacency; the sense of pleasure and the sense of rendering justice, and was

determining that

Emma was very willing now to acquit her of having seduced Mr. Dixon's actions from his wife, or of any thing mischievous which her imagination had suggested at first.

Upon the whole, Emma left her with such softened, charitable feelings, as made her look around in walking home, and lament that Highbury afforded no young man worthy of giving her independence; nobody that she could wish to scheme about for her.

These were charming feelings—but not lasting. Before she had committed herself by any public profession of eternal friendship for Jane Fairfax, or done more towards a recantation of past prejudices and errors, than saying to Mr. Knightley,

Jane had spent an evening at Hartfield with her grandmother and aunt, and every thing was relapsing much into its usual state. Former provocations reappeared. The aunt was as tiresome as ever; more tiresome, because anxiety for her health was now added to admiration of her powers; and they had to listen to the description of exactly how little bread and butter she ate for breakfast, and how small a slice of mutton for dinner, as well as to see exhibitions of new caps and new workbags for her mother and herself; and Jane's offences rose again. They had music; Emma was obliged to play; and the thanks and praise which necessarily followed appeared to her an affectation of candour, an air of greatness, meaning only to shew off in higher style her own very superior performance.

If any thing could be more, where all was most, she was more reserved on the subject of Weymouth and the Dixons than any thing. She seemed bent on giving no real insight into Mr. Dixon's character, or her own value for his company, or opinion of the suitableness of the match. It was all general approbation and smoothness; nothing delineated or distinguished. It did her no service however. Her caution was thrown away. Emma saw its artifice, and returned to her first surmises.

The like reserve prevailed on other topics. She and Mr. Frank Churchill had been at Weymouth at the same time. It was known that they were a little acquainted; but not a syllable of real information could Emma procure as to what he truly was.

Emma could not forgive her;—but as neither provocation nor resentment were discerned by Mr. Knightley, who had been of the party, and had seen only proper attention and pleasing behaviour on each side, he was expressing the next morning, being at Hartfield again on business with Mr. Woodhouse, his approbation of the whole; not so openly as he might have done had her father been out of the room, but speaking plain enough to be very intelligible to Emma. He had been used to think her unjust to Jane, and had now great pleasure in marking an improvement.

he began, as soon as Mr. Woodhouse had been talked into what was necessary, told that he understood, and the papers swept away;—

said Emma, smiling;

said her father instantly;

said Mr. Knightley, nearly at the same time;

said he, moving from his chair into one close by her,

was his only answer.

said Mr. Woodhouse, in his quiet way.

Emma saw his anxiety, and wishing to appease it, at least for the present, said, and with a sincerity which no one could question—

Mr. Knightley looked as if he were more gratified than he cared to express; and before he could make any reply, Mr. Woodhouse, whose thoughts were on the Bates's, said—

said Mr. Knightley presently,

He had time only to say,

when the door was thrown open, and Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax walked into the room. Full of thanks, and full of news, Miss Bates knew not which to give quickest. Mr. Knightley soon saw that he had lost his moment, and that not another syllable of communication could rest with him.

Emma had not had time even to think of Mr. Elton, and she was so completely surprized that she could not avoid a little start, and a little blush, at the sound.

said Mr. Knightley, with a smile which implied a conviction of some part of what had passed between them.

cried Miss Bates.

replied Mr. Woodhouse—

Here was a sly glance at Emma.

said Emma, as soon as she could speak.

was Mr. Woodhouse's observation.

said Miss Bates, joyfully;

Jane's curiosity did not appear of that absorbing nature as wholly to occupy her.

cried Emma.

turning to Mr. Woodhouse,

said Emma,

Nobody had any information to give; and, after a few more wonderings, Emma said,

replied Jane,