Emma | Page 2

her husband, and their little children, to fill the house,
and give her pleasant society again.
Highbury, the large and populous village, almost amounting to a town,
to which Hartfield, in spite of its separate lawn, and shrubberies, and
name, did really belong, afforded her no equals. The Woodhouses were
first in consequence there. All looked up to them. She had many
acquaintance in the place, for her father was universally civil, but not
one among them who could be accepted in lieu of Miss Taylor for even
half a day. It was a melancholy change; and Emma could not but sigh
over it, and wish for impossible things, till her father awoke, and made
it necessary to be cheerful. His spirits required support. He was a
nervous man, easily depressed; fond of every body that he was used to,
and hating to part with them; hating change of every kind. Matrimony,
as the origin of change, was always disagreeable; and he was by no
means yet reconciled to his own daughter's marrying, nor could ever
speak of her but with compassion, though it had been entirely a match
of affection, when he was now obliged to part with Miss Taylor too;
and from his habits of gentle selfishness, and of being never able to
suppose that other people could feel differently from himself, he was
very much disposed to think Miss Taylor had done as sad a thing for
herself as for them, and would have been a great deal happier if she had
spent all the rest of her life at Hartfield. Emma smiled and chatted as

cheerfully as she could, to keep him from such thoughts; but when tea
came, it was impossible for him not to say exactly as he had said at
dinner,
"Poor Miss Taylor!--I wish she were here again. What a pity it is that
Mr. Weston ever thought of her!"
"I cannot agree with you, papa; you know I cannot. Mr. Weston is such
a good-humoured, pleasant, excellent man, that he thoroughly deserves
a good wife;--and you would not have had Miss Taylor live with us for
ever, and bear all my odd humours, when she might have a house of her
own?"
"A house of her own!--But where is the advantage of a house of her
own? This is three times as large.--And you have never any odd
humours, my dear."
"How often we shall be going to see them, and they coming to see
us!--We shall be always meeting! We must begin; we must go and pay
wedding visit very soon."
"My dear, how am I to get so far? Randalls is such a distance. I could
not walk half so far."
"No, papa, nobody thought of your walking. We must go in the carriage,
to be sure."
"The carriage! But James will not like to put the horses to for such a
little way;--and where are the poor horses to be while we are paying our
visit?"
"They are to be put into Mr. Weston's stable, papa. You know we have
settled all that already. We talked it all over with Mr. Weston last night.
And as for James, you may be very sure he will always like going to
Randalls, because of his daughter's being housemaid there. I only doubt
whether he will ever take us anywhere else. That was your doing, papa.
You got Hannah that good place. Nobody thought of Hannah till you
mentioned her--James is so obliged to you!"

"I am very glad I did think of her. It was very lucky, for I would not
have had poor James think himself slighted upon any account; and I am
sure she will make a very good servant: she is a civil, pretty-spoken girl;
I have a great opinion of her. Whenever I see her, she always curtseys
and asks me how I do, in a very pretty manner; and when you have had
her here to do needlework, I observe she always turns the lock of the
door the right way and never bangs it. I am sure she will be an excellent
servant; and it will be a great comfort to poor Miss Taylor to have
somebody about her that she is used to see. Whenever James goes over
to see his daughter, you know, she will be hearing of us. He will be
able to tell her how we all are."
Emma spared no exertions to maintain this happier flow of ideas, and
hoped, by the help of backgammon, to get her father tolerably through
the evening, and be attacked by no regrets but her own. The
backgammon-table was placed; but a visitor immediately afterwards
walked in and made it unnecessary.
Mr. Knightley, a sensible man about seven or eight-and-thirty, was not
only a very