A Love Most Unwanted
Chapter 1
Harriet's first evening back at Mrs. Goddard's was dreadful. Miss Nash seemed to be determined to tell her everything about her sister's wedding. Miss Emily Nash had married a linen draper from Exeter in July. Miss Nash did not miss the chance to tell the whole story all over again, how her sister had met the gentleman, how high his income was, how convenient and agreeable her sister's life was. Miss Nash was sure that "Miss Smith would like to hear it, as she hasn't heard of it before".
Harriet's thoughts drifted away meanwhile. She thought of the Martins of Abbey Mill Farm.
What were they doing at the moment? Harriet could imagine the scene very well: Mrs. Martin and her daughters were in the drawing room, doing their needlework, and Mr. Robert Martin sitting in the window seat reading. Perhaps Catherine was playing the piano...
Mrs. Goddard's voice brought Harriet back to reality.
"Miss Smith, is it true that Miss Martin is engaged? I heard a rumour, but nobody knew any particulars."
"It is true, Mrs. Goddard. Catherine Martin is engaged to Mr. George Mason from Donwell."
"Mason? It must be the attorney's son, then."
"Yes, Mrs. Goddard. Mr. Mason is going to be a lawyer, too. They are going to marry as soon as he has earned himself a reputation and his income is large enough to marry."
Miss Nash raised her eyebrows and said, "A lawyer? And a man without money, too? I cannot believe that her family have consented to that match. A beauty like Miss Martin might have done much better."
Harriet swallowed hard to suppress her anger, before she answered, "Miss Nash, Mr. Mason is a very respectable and good-natured gentleman and very much in love with Miss Martin. Perhaps her family considered this sufficient for her happiness."
"Miss Smith, you are too young and silly to understand it, but believe me, love has nothing to do with marriage. You cannot live of love; you need a great deal of money too. You cannot be happy without money, and love is soon gone anyway. You're lucky if it lasts until the first Christmas after the wedding. It's better to marry for money, it lasts longer."
"I always thought I couldn't be happy in marriage without love," Harriet said meekly.
"Romantic nonsense, Miss Smith. You'll find out when you get older."
With these words, this topic was set aside for the moment, and another wedding was talked of. Miss Taylor's and Mr. Weston's wedding was to take place the next day. Harriet understood that Mr. Woodhouse was not at all pleased with it.
"He never liked it when things changed in Hartfield," said Mrs. Goddard. "And Miss Taylor always was such a valuable companion to him and Miss Woodhouse. I am sure she will be missed very much."
Highbury, AugustMy dear Elizabeth,
Now that I have settled down a bit I have some time to write you a longer letter, not just a short note.
Yesterday Mr. Weston and Miss Taylor got married, as you may have heard. I was not there of course, but Mrs. Goddard was, and she told Miss Nash, and I, well, I happened to be in the same room, so I heard everything too.
Miss Nash was not in the least impressed, or so she said. She said that her sister's wedding had been much more elegant.
Miss Nash is alive and well, you see, and so is her unfriendliness towards me, I am afraid. On my first evening here she called me silly and said I was talking nonsense, just because my opinion was different from hers. But at least I dared to tell her so, that's good, isn't it?
I'll have to cope with her unfriendliness, I think. At least the two other parlour boarders are nice. Miss Bickerton and Miss Devlin are both eighteen years old. They have been very friendly, but I do not think that they will ever be so dear to me as you and your sister are. I miss you so much! Please tell Catherine not to be disappointed because I only wrote to you. I knew you would read the letter to her, and what would I have had to tell her then? My next letter will be one to Catherine, depend upon it.
I hope your mother and brother are well. They have always been so kind to me! Please give them my best wishes and tell them how much I miss Abbey Mill Farm. I wish I could still be there with you all.
Your affectionate friend,
Harriet
PS Mrs. Goddard has just told me that Miss Woodhouse has invited me to Hartfield tonight. Me, of all people! Can you believe it? I always wanted to see Hartfield, do you remember? Now that wish is to come true. I am so excited! Oh dear, I hope I will not make a complete fool of myself. Please keep your fingers crossed for me!
Elizabeth Martin put the letter back on the table and looked around.
"Well, what do you think," she asked her brother and sister.
Catherine thought for a moment, and then she said, "She doesn't sound very happy, does she?"
Robert smiled. "She'll soon make friends. I am sure Miss Woodhouse will like her and take her away from Mrs. Goddard's now and then."
"I know someone who could take her away from Mrs. Goddard's forever if he could just make up his mind," was Elizabeth's answer.
"Liz ?" The tone of Robert's voice was calm, but threatening. "Do I have to tell you again that I don't want you to meddle with my affairs?"
"No, you don't. I just don't understand why you didn't talk to her before she left. I'll never understand it."
Catherine looked at Elizabeth. "I am sure Rob has his reasons, Liz. Leave him alone."
Robert gave his sister a grateful look. "Thank you for your support, Cathy."
When Mrs. Martin entered the room, Elizabeth gave her the letter. While she was reading, the young people were quiet. Robert thought of Harriet. He hoped she was not too unhappy. She did not have to stay in Highbury for very long if she did not want to. He had decided to ask her to marry him, but he wanted to talk to Mr. Knightley first. This was an important decision after all, and Mr. Knightley's advice was something he respected very much. Robert was afraid that he might be blinded by his love for Harriet. Mr. Knightley would be able to give him an impartial opinion.
Harriet was in her room. She was extremely nervous. An invitation to Hartfield! That was more than she had ever dared to hope for. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. She had done her best to make a good impression, but was it good enough? Mrs. Goddard knocked at the door and told her to hurry up. Harriet sighed, cast another glance at the mirror and left. Mrs. Goddard looked at her approvingly.
"Miss Smith, you look very pretty. I am sure everybody will be impressed. But take care that you do not talk too much. You are only admitted to Hartfield because of me. Don't disgrace our school."
Then she smiled. "I do sound like Miss Nash now, don't I? Do not worry, Miss Smith, I am sure you will do well. Just be yourself and do not pretend to be someone else."
Harriet nodded. The thought of Miss Woodhouse made her nervous.
"I hope she likes me," she thought. And then she thought of her friends, the Martins. "I must keep my eyes open and try to remember everything. Surely Elizabeth and Catherine will want to know how the evening went."
When they arrived at Hartfield, Harriet was surprised by the civility and friendliness of Miss Woodhouse's welcome. Miss Woodhouse seemed to be so eager to become friends with her, that Harriet felt much more at ease than before.
She answered all of Miss Woodhouse's questions readily and was flattered by the fact that her concerns seemed to raise so much interest in such a superior person as Miss Woodhouse. She noticed that Miss Woodhouse's interest in her person had also raised her prestige in society. Even Mr. Elton was talking to her, and Mr. Knightley as well. Harriet had often heard about Mr. Knightley, but had never talked to him before. Actually, she had always been afraid of him. He was so.....superior. But now she realised that Mr. Knightley could be a very pleasant conversation partner, if he wanted to. She remembered that Mr. Martin had always talked very respectfully of Mr. Knightley, and now she knew the reason.
And Hartfield! Harriet had never seen anything like this place before. The drawing room was huge, and the dining room too. Everything was so elegant. Harriet felt as if she was dreaming.
Before Harriet and Mrs. Goddard left, Miss Woodhouse asked Harriet if she would like to walk with her the next day.
"Oh, Miss Woodhouse! You are so kind! Of course I would like to!"
Miss Woodhouse smiled and they agreed to meet at ten o'clock to go for a walk.
On her way back to Mrs. Goddard's , Harriet thought about this evening. It had been very pleasant, and Harriet was happy because of Miss Woodhouse's friendliness towards her. She couldn't wait to give her friends, Elizabeth and Catherine, all the particulars of her first evening in Hartfield and sincerely hoped it would not be the last one.
Chapter 2
The next morning, Harriet went to Hartfield and found Miss Woodhouse already dressed for her walk. They went out, and soon they talked to each other like old friends. Still, the friendship was different from Harriet's friendship with Elizabeth and Catherine Martin. They were her equals, but Miss Woodhouse was of a much higher rank in society than Harriet. This was the reason why Harriet didn't have the courage to call Miss Woodhouse "Emma", although Miss Woodhouse called her by her Christian name.
The next day, the Martins visited Harriet, or at least Catherine and Elizabeth did. The three friends had a lot of things to tell each other.
"Tell me, Harriet, did you enjoy your evening at Hartfield," Elizabeth asked and listened eagerly to Harriet's description of Hartfield, the other guests and Miss Woodhouse.
Catherine went over to the pianoforte and saw some new sheets of music.
"Are they yours, Harriet?" And, when Harriet nodded, she added, "Where did you get these?"
"Miss Woodhouse gave them to me, Catherine. She said I shouldn't neglect my musical talent."
The two sisters looked at each other. Harriet's musical talent?
"I know what you think, Elizabeth. I know I have not much talent for music, but Miss Woodhouse thinks that I shouldn't give up practising. She says that an accomplished lady ought to play a musical instrument."
Just at this moment, Elizabeth had an idea.
"Harriet, may I borrow those songs? I'd like to copy them and I'll send them back as soon as I am finished."
"Of course, Elizabeth, take them and keep them as long as you want to."
Harriet was a bit surprised that Elizabeth was the sister who had asked her that question, as Catherine was the one who cared much more for music. But she did not have much time to think about it, because the door opened and Mrs. Goddard entered the room, and Mrs. Martin was with her. She wanted to pick up her daughters. While Elizabeth and Catherine were getting ready to go, she took the opportunity to talk to Harriet.
"Miss Smith, we miss you very much," she said. "Abbey Mill Farm is quite a different place since you have left. You must come and visit us again at Christmas."
Harriet beamed. "I shall be very glad to, Mrs. Martin!"
Then the Martins left, expressing their best wishes for Harriet and promising to visit her again soon. Mrs. Goddard thanked Mrs. Martin again and again for the goose she had brought her. Then the Martins were gone and Harriet went back to the house to get ready for another walk with Miss Woodhouse.
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In the carriage, Catherine turned to Elizabeth and said, "Well, Liz, tell me, what was that comedy about?"
"Comedy? What comedy?"
"Come, Liz, even Harriet will think it strange that you want to borrow some sheets of music, although you hardly ever play. Why did you do that?"
" I planned to ask Rob to bring them back for me. He'll need a good reason to visit her, don't you think?"
"Liz! Will you stop interfering? Nothing good can come of it, to be sure! If Robert wants to talk to Harriet, he will find an opportunity to do so. He is old enough and clever enough to settle things for himself."
"I'm not interfering, Cathy! Rob is in love with Harriet, right? All I want is to give him an opportunity to visit her and maybe talk to her alone. Nothing more. That is not interfering, is it? And if he doesn't take that chance, I won't help him ever again!"
"Let's hope so, by goodness," Cathy answered sarcastically.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Harriet was in the garden of Hartfield with Emma Woodhouse. They were talking about the Martins. Harriet had told Miss Woodhouse about the Miss Martin's visit, and that had made Emma curious. After Harriet had informed her about Mrs. Martin and her daughters, she now talked about her favourite member of the Martin family.
"What sort of looking man is Mr. Martin," asked Emma.
"Oh, not handsome. Not at all handsome. I thought him very plain at first, but I do not think him so plain now."
Harriet paused for a moment, and thought of his eyes, and the friendly smile he had given her so often.
"One does not, you know, after a time. But did you never see him? He is in Highbury every now and then, and he is sure to ride through every week in his way to Kingston. He has passed you very often."
Emma's answer was not what Harriet had expected.
"That may be, and I may have seen him fifty times, but without having any idea of his name. A young farmer, whether on horseback or on foot, is the very least sort of person to raise my curiosity. The yeomanry are precisely the order of people with whom I feel I can have nothing to do. A degree or two lower, and a creditable appearance might interest me; I might hope to be useful to their families in some way or other. But a farmer can need none of my help, and is therefore in one sense as much above my notice as in every other he is below it."
Harriet felt rather ashamed for her question. She had never thought that way.
"To be sure! Oh! Yes, it is not likely that you should ever have observed him. But he knows you very well indeed -- I mean by sight."
" I have no doubt of his being a very respectable young man. I know indeed that he is so; and as such I wish him well. What do you imagine his age to be?"
"He was four-and-twenty the eighth of last June, and my birthday is the twenty-third -- just a fortnight and a day's difference, which is very odd!"
Harriet remembered Robert Martin's birthday. It had been such a pleasant evening! The Masons had dined with the Martins, and Mr. Mason had asked for Catherine's hand in marriage the very next day... Such a lively party they had been!
"Only twenty-four! That is too young to settle," Emma said. She talked on, but Harriet didn't listen for a moment. Mr. Martin too young? Twenty-four doesn't seem so very young to me...
"Six years hence, if he could meet with a good sort of young woman, in the same rank as his own, with a little money, it might be very desirable."
"Six years hence! Dear Miss Woodhouse, he would be thirty years old," Harriet exclaimed.
And I'd be twenty-three, she thought. No, I don't want to wait for six years.
The conversation went on. Miss Woodhouse told Harriet to be careful. If Mr. Martin married a vulgar person, Harriet might degrade herself with such an acquaintance.
The thought of Mr. Martin marrying made Harriet feel uncomfortable, and she agreed with Miss Woodhouse.
"If he marries a very ignorant, vulgar woman, certainly I had better not visit her, if I can help it."
No, certainly, I won't visit Mrs. Robert Martin....
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The next day, Harriet and Emma were walking on the Donwell road, when Harriet noticed a young man coming towards them.
"Oh, Miss Woodhouse, look! It's Mr. Martin!"
Emma didn't seem to be very pleased to meet the young gentleman, but she greeted him civilly and then went a few yards forward while Harriet and Robert talked with each other.
"It's quite a chance, Miss Smith, to meet you here. I thought you'd walk to Randalls most days."
"Oh no, Mr. Martin, we walk here quite often. Your mother and sisters are well, I hope?"
"Oh yes, they are. They'll be delighted to hear from you. Do you walk with Miss Woodhouse every day?"
"Nearly every day, yes. Mr. Martin, did you get the book I recommended you?"
Robert frowned. "Book?"
Surely he hasn't forgotten it. He promised to get it!
"The Romance of the Forest."
"Ah, that book! I'm so sorry, Miss Smith, I completely forgot about it. I was so busy last time I was in Kingston. Can you forgive me?" He smiled.
"I'll go there again tomorrow, and I won't forget that book any more, you can be sure of that."
Harriet turned around and saw that Miss Woodhouse seemed to be rather impatient.
"Mr. Martin, I must go now. Miss Woodhouse must not be kept waiting. Give my regards to your mother and sisters." She smiled. "Good bye, Mr. Martin."
"Good bye, Miss Smith."
Harriet ran to Miss Woodhouse. She was eager to hear her opinion of Mr. Martin.
"Well, Miss Woodhouse, is he like what you expected? What do you think of him? Do you think he is so very plain?"
I don't......
"He is very plain, undoubtedly, remarkably plain, but that is nothing, compared with his entire want of gentility. I had no right to expect much, and I did not expect much, but I had no idea that he could be so very clownish, so totally without air. I had imagined him, I confess, a degree or two nearer gentility."
Harriet was mortified to hear that.
"To be sure," she said," he is not so genteel as real gentlemen."
Miss Woodhouse now went on, describing the difference between Mr. Martin and "real gentlemen" like Mr. Weston or Mr. Elton.
"How much his business engrosses him already, is very plain from the circumstance of his forgetting to inquire for the book you recommended. He was a great deal too full of the market to think of any thing else -- which is just as it should be, for a thriving man. What has he to do with books? And I have no doubt that he will thrive and be a very rich man in time- and his being illiterate and coarse need not disturb us."
Harriet felt rather angry now, although she could not tell the exact reason for it.
"I wonder he did not remember the book," she said.
Emma talked on about gentlemen's manners and praised Mr. Elton in particular.
"Did not I tell you what he said of you the other day ?"
"No, Miss Woodhouse."
"He said you were very pretty, and that you were very sweet-tempered and graceful."
Harriet blushed and smiled.
"I have always thought Mr. Elton to be a very agreeable gentleman, Miss Woodhouse."
Could it be that Mr. Elton liked her? No, surely not. But then, Miss Woodhouse was so clever...
Chapter 3
Harriet was now a regular visitor at Hartfield. Miss Woodhouse summoned her every day for a walk, and if the weather was too bad for a walk they stayed in the house, read or did some needlework. Harriet also learned much. Emma's influence could be seen in the way she dressed, her movements and her speech. She had become more elegant.
One day, Emma told her what Mr. Elton had said about her.
"Mr. Elton praised you very warmly, Harriet."
Harriet blushed. A man like Mr. Elton was praising her!
"He said you were beautiful, and that you had improved since you first came to Hartfield."
Harriet was astonished.
"Did Mr. Elton really say that? And if he did, don't you think he only said it because he wanted to pay you a compliment?"
"Harriet, Mr. Elton did say it and there can be no doubt of his being serious."
Harriet smiled, and then she said," Mr. Elton's manners are so pleasing, aren't they?"
"Indeed they are, Harriet."
"And he is such a remarkably handsome gentleman, don't you think?"
"Oh yes, Mr. Elton is handsome."
"And he really said what you told me before, Miss Woodhouse? I mean you didn't mistake his meaning?"
"Not at all, Harriet. As I said before, there could be no question whatsoever as to his meaning."
Harriet was flattered. If a man like Mr. Elton, who was looked up to by all the ladies in Highbury, had made her such a compliment, it surely meant something. Such an agreeable gentleman....
She did not notice Emma's gaze and her smile.
Shortly afterwards, the door was opened and Mr. Elton was announced. Harriet was nervous. What was she to do? What would he say? And -- with a short glance at the mirror -- what did she look like?
Mr. Elton entered the room and greeted the ladies politely.
Harriet felt her cheeks go hot and she knew she was blushing again. At the moment she had no other thought than to get away for a few minutes and compose herself. She got up and went to the door, when Emma asked her, "Did you ever have your likeness taken, Harriet? Did you ever sit for a picture?"
Harriet stopped and said, "Oh dear, no. Never."
Then she left the room, and tried to calm herself down again. She had never felt nervous in Mr. Elton's presence before, what did that mean? Could it be that she was in love with him? If anyone had asked her a few days ago, she might have said the Robert Martin was the most wonderful man she had ever known. But now...well, Mr. Elton was so nice, and handsome, and everybody liked him, and even Miss Woodhouse seemed to believe that he was interested in Harriet.
"What am I to do," she asked herself. Then she decided to go back to Miss Woodhouse and Mr. Elton.
When she entered the room, she saw that Mr. Elton and Emma were looking at some of Emma's paintings and sketches.
Mr. Elton came up to her. "Miss Smith! I must entreat you to do Miss Woodhouse a favour. Miss Woodhouse would like to draw a picture of you."
"Oh, but Mr. Elton, I am not really sure..."
Emma interrupted her. "Harriet, I would be very much pleased if you allowed me to take your likeness."
"Miss Woodhouse would be very much obliged to you if you allowed her to capture your beauty in a picture, Miss Smith."
Harriet could not resist any longer and consented. Emma brought some more sketches to show them to Mr. Elton and Harriet.
"This is my last and my best. My brother, Mr. Knightley. This did not want much of being finished, when I put it away in a pet, and vowed I would never take another likeness.
I could not help being provoked, for after all my pains, and when I had really made a very good likeness of it (Mrs. Weston and I were quite agreed in thinking it very like)- only too handsome, too flattering, but that was a fault on the right side- after all this came poor dear Isabella's cold approbation of,"Yes, it was a little like, but to be sure it didn't do him justice." As I said I did then forswear ever drawing anybody again. But for Harriet's sake, or rather for my own, and as there are no husbands and wives in the case at present, I will break my resolution now."
Mr. Elton seemed delighted at this sentence, and Harriet smiled and blushed.
"No husbands and wives in the case at present indeed, as you observe. Exactly so. No husbands and wives," said Mr. Elton and smiled. Emma looked at Harriet and smiled, too, and had Miss Woodhouse not have been such a well-bred lady; Harriet could have sworn that Miss Woodhouse had winked at her.
Then Emma placed Harriet in the corner, and after much discussion as to her attitude and countenance, she was left there and Emma began her work.
After a few minutes, however, she interrupted her work and said, "Mr. Elton, please! I cannot work if you keep fidgeting around behind me. Do take a seat."
Harriet watched him. He seems to be just as nervous as I am. Why? Surely he has no reason for that. He keeps watching Miss Woodhouse and looking at me. I hope I won't blush! I would be so much ashamed if I did! I hope he won't notice how much I care for him! That would be so embarrassing!
Mr. Elton sat down, but still felt uneasy.
"Mr. Elton," Emma said," Would you be so good as to read to us? It would be a kindness, indeed. It would amuse away the difficulties on my part, and lessen Miss Smith's irksomeness."
What a good idea, Miss Woodhouse! If he is reading, he cannot walk around like that, and he won't be looking at me all the time. And he is so good at reading!
Mr. Elton was very happy to oblige, and started reading. Harriet enjoyed listening to him. But she was surprised to see that Mr. Elton got up every few minutes to have a look at Miss Woodhouse's sketch and to praise it.
When Emma had finished her sketch, she showed it to Harriet. Harriet was delighted.
"Miss Woodhouse, you are an artist indeed! It will be a wonderful picture!"
Emma was pleased with that praise, and asked Harriet to come and sit for the picture again the next day.
"Of course I will, Miss Woodhouse! This is so exciting!"
"Miss Woodhouse, please allow me to come and read to you again," said Mr. Elton.
"By all means, Mr. Elton. We shall be most happy to consider you as one of the party," was Emma's answer.
The next day, Emma finished the picture and everybody who saw it was very pleased. Mr. Elton seemed to admire the picture most. No matter what anybody said, Mr. Elton defended Harriet's portrait. The picture was absolutely faultless in his eyes.
It was decided that the picture had to be taken to London to be framed. But who would do so?
"I could ride to London at any time, Miss Woodhouse, and if you trusted me with that commission, I would be very happy in executing it. I cannot say how much I should be gratified by being employed on such an errand."
"Mr. Elton, you are too good. I cannot endure the thought of giving you such a troublesome office. Not for the world !"
However, Mr. Elton insisted on taking the picture to London, and so Emma packed it and gave it to him.
"What a precious deposit," he sighed, and Emma looked at Harriet, as if she wanted to say, "See? I told you he liked you. Can there be any doubt? I am sure he does!"
Chapter 4
The last few weeks had been very busy for Robert Martin, and so his visit in Donwell Abbey had always been postponed. Besides, Mr. Knightley might find it easier to advise him if he knew Harriet Smith, and as she seemed to be Miss Woodhouse's chosen friend, it was only a matter of time until he would meet her.
Robert thought of the morning when he had met Harriet. She had been very friendly, polite and pleased to see him. He had also noticed that Harriet was more self-conscious than before. Miss Woodhouse's influence, perhaps?
Robert read through the letter on his desk.
Dear Sir,There is a very important personal matter in which I seek your advice.
Would you allow me to visit you, at any time that is convenient for you?
I remain, etc.
Robert Martin
Robert sealed the letter and went to search for Davey Harris, the shepherd's son. Davey always liked to be sent to Donwell Abbey, because Mr. Knightley's cook always had something good for him.
Robert found Davey sitting on the river bank with a catapult, aiming at the trees on the opposite bank of the river. Robert whistled, and the boy started and dropped the catapult.
"I thought you have given up playing with these, Davey. At least you promised Miss Smith that you would."
The boy grinned sheepishly.
"I thought, now that Miss Smith is gone, I could, sir."
Robert smiled and shook his head.
"Davey, you should always keep your promises, not only when the person you promised to is around."
Davey nodded and gave the catapult to Robert.
"I won't do it again, sir," he said with a deep sigh.
Robert took the letter out of his pocket and gave it to Davey.
"Would you bring this to Donwell Abbey for me, please?"
Davey nodded.
"And wait for Mr. Knightley's answer, will you?"
Davey saluted. "Yessir!"
Then he ran away.
Robert looked after the boy and smiled. Davey was a nice fellow, even though his father called him a rascal very often. It was true, he did do a lot of mischief, but he never meant to harm anyone and had a heart of gold. And he looked exactly like his mother.
Robert remembered when Sue Harris had come to Abbey Mill Farm. To him she had seemed a mature, grown woman of fourteen. She had worked in the kitchen for Mrs. Simms. Her father was one of the stablehands.
Sue had been his first love. He had been at Davey's age, and until he had met her he had always thought that girls were the most useless and stupid creatures in the world. The "affair" had ended quite suddenly. Robert remembered the evening when he had said, "Sue, when I grow up, I'll marry you." Sue had started laughing at him, which had hurt him very much.
"Why do you laugh? I'm serious. I love you, you know," he had said. But Sue had just laughed. Deeply hurt and disappointed, Robert had resolved to be very careful as to whom he fell in love with. And even more careful as to admitting it....until now.
Mr. Knightley's answer arrived shortly after lunch. It was an invitation for him to come to Donwell Abbey that very evening.
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When Robert arrived at Donwell Abbey, he was shown into the library, where Mr. Knightley already expected him.
"Mr. Martin, good evening!"
"Good evening, Mr. Knightley."
"Take a seat. Would you like to drink a glass of wine with me?"
Robert smiled. "Yes, thank you, Mr. Knightley."
While Mr. Knightley filled two glasses with wine from a decanter, he said, "I must admit that your letter has made me curious. It sounded important."
He handed a glass to Robert. "I will do my best to be of assistance."
"Well, Mr. Knightley, I am asking your advice in a personal matter. I am.....in love and I want to marry."
"Congratulations, Mr. Martin. But why do you need my advice for that ?"
Robert sighed. "Because I am not sure if it is wise to marry. I am not yet twenty-five, and the lady is seven years younger than I am. Perhaps we are too young and ought to wait?"
"Do I know the lady ?"
"I think you do. It is Miss Smith."
"Miss Smith! I should have known that. She was your guest in Abbey Mill Farm this summer, wasn't she?"
"That's right. She stayed with us for two months. Do you think she is too young?"
Mr. Knightley thought for a moment. Then he said, "No, I do not think so. Age cannot be of consequence if both partners love each other, and if she loves you she will marry you, no matter if she is seventeen or one-and-twenty."
"So you do not object to Miss Smith as my wife?"
"Not at all. What makes you think that I would ?"
"I thought that Miss Smith might be considered....a line of society above me. Especially since Miss Woodhouse is so fond of her."
"Mr. Martin, I can see that you have given this matter much thought, which is what a man ought to do before he settles. I can see no reason why you should not marry Miss Smith, if you can afford to marry. What are your plans for the future? What do your mother and sisters think about it?"
"My mother and sisters like Miss Smith very much." Robert smiled. "Elizabeth actually expects me to marry her. I suspect her of having planned it for some time, although I have no proof. I have talked to my mother about the subject of my marriage once, she has told me that she would stay in the house as long as she could be of assistance to my wife and then she would rent a small house for herself and for my sisters. But I do not think that Miss Smith will want them to leave Abbey Mill Farm. I plan to keep them there, which means that the house will have to be enlarged to give my mother some privacy."
Mr. Knightley laughed. "So everything is planned already, Mr. Martin? I thought so. Well, I am convinced you cannot do better than to marry. Miss Smith is a very pretty girl with a sweet temper, and she is fond of your family. This match will provide happiness for every person involved, there is no doubt of it."
"You approve of my plans then?"
"I certainly do. But you should not ask me what I think of it. You should talk to Miss Smith."
Robert laughed. "I will, as soon as possible."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
When Robert got home, he saw that there was still a light in the drawing room, although it was late. He entered the room and found his sister, Elizabeth.
"Liz, you're still up? I hope you haven't been waiting for me?"
Elizabeth smiled. "I was, in fact."
"It must be an urgent business to keep you awake nearly until midnight, Liz. What is it?"
"I was asking myself if you could do me a favour."
Robert grinned. "Liz, you wouldn't stay up all night just to ask a favour from me. Come on, tell me."
Elizabeth laughed. "You know me too well, don't you? Why did you go to Donwell Abbey tonight?"
"Liz, of all people in the world you should know best. I went there to ask Mr. Knightley's advice. And I've finally made up my mind. I am going to ask your friend Harriet Smith to marry me."
Elizabeth smiled radiantly. "It's about time, Rob! I was getting worried already. I don't like that Miss Woodhouse business, you know."
"What's wrong with Miss Woodhouse?"
"I don't know, but I think that friendship doesn't do Harriet well. When are you going to ask her?"
"As soon as I get the opportunity to talk to her."
Elizabeth went to the desk and took out some sheets of paper. "Ask her tomorrow Rob. Here is the opportunity."
"I'm afraid I don't quite understand, Liz."
"I borrowed these songs from Harriet to copy them. If you'd be so nice as to bring them back to her?" She smiled and winked. "That was the favour I was going to ask from you, by the way."
Robert took the sheets of music. "Thank you Liz. I hope I`ll get the chance to talk to her."
"Good luck, Rob. I'm sure everything will be fine." She rose. "Good night."
"Good night, Liz."
Robert stayed in the drawing room for a while. Liz.....she had always been so fond of Harriet. He suspected her of having planned all this. She had certainly planned to send him to Highbury with these songs.
Well, he would go there tomorrow. But what if Harriet was not at home? What could he do then?
Robert thought for a while, then he sat down at the desk. When he had finished writing, he took the letter and put it between the sheets of music. If Harriet was at home, he would talk to her. If not, the letter would tell her everything he wanted to say.
Chapter 5
When Robert was shown into Mrs. Goddard's reception room the next morning, he was disappointed to see that only Mrs. Goddard and one of her parlour boarders were there. Mrs. Goddard welcomed him in a friendly manner.
"Good morning, Mr. Martin. What can I do for you?"
"Well, Mrs. Goddard, I came here to see Miss Smith. Is she at home?"
Mrs. Goddard shook her head. "I am sorry to say that she is not, Mr. Martin. She left the house about half an hour ago and went to Hartfield."
"I see." Robert hesitated for a moment, and then he said, "Do you expect her to come back soon?"
"When Miss Smith is in Hartfield, one can never really tell, Mr. Martin. She may be back in half an hour, or she might stay there all day. Do you want to wait for her?"
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Goddard. If you don't mind...."
"Not at all, Mr. Martin."
Robert stayed and talked with Mrs. Goddard for about half an hour, then he rose.
"I'm afraid I must leave now, Mrs. Goddard. I have already taken too much of your time. Please tell Miss Smith how sorry I am to have missed her."
"I am sure she will be sorry to hear that she has missed you."
Robert took a small parcel out of his pocket and gave it to Mrs. Goddard.
"My sister asked me to give this to Miss Smith. Would you be so kind as to pass it on to her?"
"I will, Mr. Martin."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
About an hour after Robert had left, Harriet arrived at Mrs. Goddard's house. She was very surprised to hear about her visitor, and felt very sorry for not having been at home.
"And he waited for half an hour," she thought. "How odd. It seems as if he had an important reason to see me. But what can it be?"
In her room, Harriet opened the parcel and found the two songs she had lent Elizabeth to copy. Then she noticed a letter. It was between the sheets of music.
"To Miss Smith," she read. It was neither Catherine's nor Elizabeth's handwriting. It looked more like a man's...
Harriet sat down at her dressing table and opened the letter, her hands trembling with excitement.
Dear Miss Smith,I came to Highbury on purpose of talking to you. As you are not at home, all I can do is leave you this letter and hope that you will read it.
It may not have escaped your notice that I feel more for you than friendship, Miss Smith, and your behaviour towards me, on several occasions last summer, has led me to the conclusion that your feelings for me are not indifferent either.
If I had to describe my feelings for you, this small piece of paper could not hold a tenth of what I had to say.
In fact, all my hopes for happiness depend on you. I am in love with you, and ask you to become my wife.
All I want you to do, Miss Smith, is to consider my offer and let me know your answer as soon as possible. I know you will not be so cruel as to keep me waiting for very long.
Yours etc.
Robert Martin
Harriet gasped for breath. A letter like this was the last thing she had expected. She read the letter again and again; half believing that it was only a dream, wishful thinking perhaps. No, it was true, the letter was from Robert Martin, and it was a proposal of marriage. Harriet was confused. What was she to do? She liked Robert Martin very much indeed, and at one point of her acquaintance with him she had been sure that she loved him....but that had been before she had met Mr. Elton...
There was only one thing to do.
"Miss Woodhouse! I'll ask Miss Woodhouse! She is so clever, she will know what to do!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Harriet reached Hartfield, not knowing how she had got there. She was all excitement and out of breath.
"Miss Woodhouse! Something extraordinary has happened!"
Emma smiled. "What is it, Harriet? Take a seat and tell me."
Harriet told her everything about Mr. Martin's visit and his letter.
"Who would have thought it, Miss Woodhouse? I am so surprised; I do not know what to do. A proposal of marriage, and it's a very good letter." Harriet blushed. "At least I think so. And he writes as if he really loved me very much, but I don't know...well, and so I came as fast as I could to ask you what I should do, Miss Woodhouse."
"Upon my word," Emma cried, "the young man is determined not to lose anything for want of asking. He will connect himself well if he can."
Harriet looked at Emma. "Will you read the letter? Pray do! I'd rather you would!"
While Emma was reading, Harriet watched her anxiously and impatiently.
"Well, Miss Woodhouse? Is it a good letter? Or is it too short?"
Emma was standing there, seemingly deep in thought.
"Miss Woodhouse? Is it a good letter? What do you think?"
"Yes, indeed, a very good letter," was Emma's answer. She had answered hesitatingly, as if she had not at all been inclined to say something nice about Mr. Martin's letter.
She went on, "So good a letter, Harriet, that everything considered, I think one of his sisters must have helped him. I can hardly imagine the young man whom I saw walking with you the other day could express himself so well, if left quite to his own powers, and yet it is not the style of a woman; no, certainly, it is too strong and concise; not diffuse enough for a woman. No doubt he is a sensible man, and I suppose may have a natural talent for -- thinks strongly and clearly-and when he takes a pen in hand, his thoughts naturally find proper words. It is so with some men. Yes, I understand the sort of mind. Vigorous, decided, with sentiments to a certain point, not coarse."
She handed the letter to Harriet, who was listening to her, holding her breath.
"A better written letter, Harriet, than I had expected."
She thinks the letter is well written, but she says nothing about what I should do! What am I to do? Miss Woodhouse, help me, please! Tell me I am doing the right thing if I say yes!
"Well- well- and -- and what shall I do, Miss Woodhouse?"
"What shall you do? In what respect? Do you mean with regard to that letter?"
"Yes."
"But what are you in doubt of? You must answer it of course -- and speedily."
"Yes, but what shall I say? Dear Miss Woodhouse, do advise me!"
"Oh no, no! The letter had much better be all your own. You will express yourself very properly, I am sure. There is no danger of your not being intelligible, which is the first thing. Your meaning must be unequivocal, no doubts or demurs; and such expressions of gratitude and concern for the pain you are inflicting as propriety requires, will present themselves unbidden to your mind, I am persuaded. You need not be prompted to write with the appearance of sorrow for his disappointment."
Harriet was shocked. Did that mean that Miss Woodhouse actually suggested...
"You think I ought to refuse him then?" She looked down, because she did not want Emma to see her eyes. Suddenly she felt ashamed, although she did not know why.
"Ought to refuse him! My dear Harriet, what do you mean? Are you in any doubt as to that? I thought- but I beg your pardon; perhaps I have been under a mistake. I certainly have been misunderstanding you, if you feel in doubt as to the purport of your answer. I had imagined you were consulting me only as to the wording of it."
Harriet was silent. She did not quite understand what her friend meant. Was Miss Woodhouse thinking that a marriage between her and Mr. Martin was unwise?
She was even uneasier when Emma said, in a rather cold voice, "You mean to return a favourable answer, I collect."
"No, I do not, that is, I do not mean- what shall I do? What would you advise me to do? Pray, dear Miss Woodhouse, tell me what I ought to do?"
"I shall not give you any advice, Harriet. I will have nothing to do with it. This is a point which you must settle with your own feelings."
Harriet read the letter again and said, "I had no notion that he liked me so much."
Didn't I? He was always nice and considerate, and friendly. I should have known that meant something. Why cannot I make up my mind now? He would be a good husband, that's for sure. But Miss Woodhouse seems to think that he is not the right man for me, I do not know why, but Miss Woodhouse has always been right so far. And he forgot about the book, which shows me he does not care as much for me as he should, if he wants to marry me...
Emma watched her, and finally said, "I lay it down as a general rule, Harriet, that if a woman doubts as to whether she should accept a man or not, she certainly ought to refuse him. If she can hesitate as to "Yes", she ought to say "No" directly. It is not a state to be safely entered into with doubtful feelings, with half a heart. I thought it my duty as a friend, and older than yourself, to say thus much to you. But do not imagine that I want to influence you."
"Oh, no, I am sure you are a great deal too kind to -- but if you would just advise me what I had best do -- No, no, I do not mean that -- As you say, one's mind ought to be quite made up -- one should not be hesitating. It is a very serious thing. It will be safer to say No, perhaps. -- Do you think I had better say No?"
Emma smiled graciously. "Not for the world would I advise you either way. You must be the best judge of your own happiness. If you prefer Mr. Martin to every other person, if you think him the most agreeable man you have ever been in company with, why should you hesitate?"
She looked at Harriet intently, before she went on. "You blush, Harriet. Does any body else occur to you at this moment under such a definition? Harriet, Harriet, do not deceive yourself, do not be run away with by gratitude and compassion. At this moment whom are you thinking of?"
She is right. Why do I hesitate? And why do I keep thinking of Mr. Elton now? Why do I compare those two men to each other? I should not marry Mr. Martin if I am not sure if I love him, and I am not sure. Could I think of another man in such a moment if I did? I am sure I wouldn't, and I wouldn't hesitate either. If I accept his offer now, I will only make the both of us unhappy, and I cannot do that. He deserves to be happy, but he cannot be happy with a wife like me!
Harriet stood by the fire, thinking, and when she looked down to the letter in her hand she noticed that she had twisted it about, as she always did when she was nervous and was holding something in her hand. She drew a deep breath and turned to Emma.
"Miss Woodhouse, as you will not give me your opinion, I must do as well as I can by myself, and I have now quite determined, and really almost made up my mind..."
She stopped and reflected one more moment, then she said, " ..to refuse Mr. Martin."
While she said that, she already felt sorry for it, and added, "Do you think I am right?"
She looked into Emma's face anxiously, looking for signs of approval or disapproval.
Emma smiled at her sweetly.
"Perfectly, perfectly right, my dearest Harriet, you are doing just what you ought. While you were at all in suspense I kept my feelings to myself, but now that you are so completely decided I have no hesitation in approving. Dear Harriet, I give myself joy of this. It would have grieved me to lose your acquaintance, which must have been the consequence of your marrying Mr. Martin. While you were in the smallest degree wavering, I said nothing about it, because I would not influence, but it would have been a loss of a friend to me. I could not have visited Mrs. Robert Martin, of Abbey Mill Farm. Now I am secure of you forever."
She could not have visited Mrs. Robert Martin of Abbey Mill Farm? I never thought of that, but she is right! She could not have been my friend any longer! What a horrible thought!
"You could not have visited me! No, to be sure you could not, but I never thought of that before. That would have been too dreadful. What an escape! Dear Miss Woodhouse, I would not give up the pleasure and honour of being intimate with you for any thing in the world!"
"Indeed, Harriet, it would have been a severe pang to lose you, but it must have been. You would have thrown yourself out of all good society. I must have given you up."
She is such a well-meaning friend, how could I ever do without her? And she would actually have given me up, just to make me happy. She didn't want to interfere, but I pressed her into doing it! Poor Miss Woodhouse! How she must have suffered!
"Dear me! How would I ever have borne it? It would have killed me never to come to Hartfield any more!"
"Dear, affectionate creature! You banished to Abbey Mill Farm! You confined to the society of the illiterate and vulgar all your life! I wonder how the young man could have the assurance to ask it. He must have a pretty good opinion of himself."
Illiterate? Vulgar? No, the Martins aren't like this. Mr. Martin is clever, and he has a kind heart. And he is not at all conceited, Miss Woodhouse is wrong if she thinks that!
"I do not think he is conceited either, in general, at least he is very good-natured, and I shall always feel much obliged to him, and have a great regard for- but that is quite a different thing from- and you know, though he may like me, it does not follow that I should -- and certainly I must confess that since my visiting here I have seen people- and if one comes to compare them, person and manners, there is no comparison at all, one is so very handsome and agreeable. However, I do really think Mr. Martin a very amiable young man, and have a great opinion of him; and his being so much attached to me- and his writing such a letter -- but as to leaving you, it is what I would not do upon any consideration."
Why am I justifying myself? I am sure, am I not?
"Thank you, thank you, my own sweet little friend. We will not be parted. A woman is not to marry because she is asked, or because he is attached to her, and can write a tolerable letter."
A tolerable letter! So she didn't like it, she just said so to please me! A real friend!
"Oh no, and it is but a short letter, too."
Emma looked at Harriet, all astonishment.
"Very true, and it would be a small consolation to you, for the clownish manner which might offend you every hour of the day, to know that your husband can write a good letter."
"Oh yes, very. Nobody cares for a letter, the thing is, to be always happy with pleasant companions. I am quite determined to refuse him. But how shall I do? What shall I say?"
"There will be no difficulty in the answer, Harriet. Write it directly, it is better to answer such a letter as fast as possible."
"Oh, yes, Miss Woodhouse. But you will help me, won't you? I am not really sure how to -- well, you know, I have to disappoint him, and I don't want to hurt him too much, and..."
Harriet looked at Emma helplessly.
"I do not think you will need any assistance, Harriet. Just start writing, and we will see."
So Harriet sat down at the desk and began to write, but she needed Emma's help in every single sentence. In reading Robert's letter again, she felt so sorry for him, and his family, that she thought she ought to accept him after all. Emma, however, proved to be a real friend and helped her to get over her weakness.
When the letter was written, Harriet sealed it, and Emma sent one of her servants to Abbey Mill Farm with it. There was no way out now, her answer was on its way, and even if Harriet had wanted to change her mind now, it would have been impossible. Her chance of marrying Robert Martin was gone forever. And surely now she would never be invited to Abbey Mill Farm again.
Catherine and Elizabeth will be disappointed too. I am sure Elizabeth will be quite angry with me, she is so fond of her brother, and she will never forgive me.
Emma saw that Harriet felt depressed and invited her to stay in Hartfield for the night, an offer that was gladly accepted. Harriet could not bear the thought of going back to Mrs. Goddard's and to spend the evening in the company of Miss Nash. She wanted to be with her friend, who distracted her and cheered her up.
"I think Mrs. Goddard would be very much surprised if she knew what has happened. I am sure Miss Nash would -- for Miss Nash thinks her own sister very well married, and it is only a linen draper."
"One should be sorry to see greater pride or refinement in a teacher of a school, Harriet. I dare say Miss Nash would envy you such an opportunity as this of being married. Even this conquest would appear valuable in her eyes. As to anything superior for you, I suppose she is quite in the dark. The attentions of a certain person can hardly be among the tittle-tattle of Highbury yet. Hitherto I fancy you and I are the only people to whom his looks and manners have explained themselves."
His looks and manners have explained themselves...one could say that, yes. If Miss Woodhouse thinks so, it must be so, there is no doubt.
But then Harriet thought of the Martins again, and she suddenly felt very sad.
"Now he has got my letter," she said softly. "I wonder what they are all doing- whether his sisters know -- if he is unhappy, they will be unhappy, too. I hope he will not mind it so very much."
"Let us think of those among our absent friends who are more cheerfully employed," said Emma. "At this moment, perhaps, Mr. Elton is showing your picture to his mother and sisters, telling how much more beautiful is the original, and after being asked for it five or six times, allowing them to hear your name, your own dear name."
My own dear name....but it is not so dear to me at the moment. I am sure I did Mr. Martin wrong, but what can I do now?
And, as she knew that nothing could change what she had done, she listened to Emma's description of Mr. Elton's obvious attachment to her, Harriet, readily, and felt that she was not so unhappy after all.
Chapter 6
The Martins were sitting in their drawing room, when the maid entered and gave Robert a letter.
"This has just arrived from Hartfield, sir," she said.
Robert thanked her, took the letter and went into his study, while his mother and sisters exchanged meaningful glances. They all knew what this letter meant to Robert.
Robert was anxious to know what Harriet had to say. He had been waiting for her answer all afternoon, and was getting rather impatient in the evening. Surely she got the letter? Or had something gone wrong, and she hadn't received it? Maybe Mrs. Goddard had forgotten to hand her the parcel? Or Harriet had decided to spend the night in Hartfield and Mrs. Goddard didn't have the opportunity to give it to her? Now he was holding the letter in his hands, the letter that was going to inform him of his future happiness.
When he opened and read the letter, however, he felt as if his world was going to pieces. He read the letter again and again, unable to believe what he saw with his own eyes. Every word hurt him like a knife being twisted in his heart. He didn't know how long he had sat in his study, when Elizabeth came in.
"Rob? Is everything alright with you?"
She looked at her brother and was alarmed. She had never seen him like this before, except on one occasion. He was pale, and he looked at her forlornly.
"Nothing's alright, Liz. It's over."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Read the letter," he said and rose. "Sorry, Liz, if I stay in here one more minute I'll go mad. I need -- some fresh air. Read the letter and tell Mother and Cathy about it. I'll answer all your questions when I'm back."
His voice sounded tired and incredibly sad. "Don't wait for me if it gets late."
With these words, he left the room, and shortly afterwards Elizabeth heard the front door. He had left the house.
Elizabeth took the letter and started reading.
Dear Sir,I was very surprised to receive your letter today. I had no notion that you liked me so much. If I had known, I would have changed my behaviour, especially since it seems to have encouraged you.
Believe me, Mr. Martin, my feelings for you are merely those of a well-meaning and grateful friend, and as such it hurts me to cause pain to you or any other member of your family.
I feel very honoured by your offer.
But I cannot, and will not, marry you. I believe that you deserve a wife who loves you, which I do not.
With the best wishes for your and your family's well-being
I remain,
Your friend
Harriet Smith
Elizabeth put the letter back on her brother's desk.
"Poor Rob!" she thought. "And it is all my fault! I brought her here! Oh, Harriet, you foolish girl!"
But then.... the letter had not been written in Harriet's usual style. And it had arrived from Hartfield.
"Emma Woodhouse must have something to do with it," Elizabeth thought while she went back into the drawing room.
Her mother looked at her anxiously.
"What is the matter, Elizabeth? Where is Robert?"
Elizabeth sighed. "The letter was from Harriet, Mother. Rob has made her an offer of marriage, and she has refused it."
Mrs. Martin and Catherine were shocked to hear that.
While Mrs. Martin was silent, trying to understand what had happened, Catherine said, "But Liz, why? I always thought she loved him!"
Elizabeth shook her head. "In her letter she says she doesn't. Stupid, cruel girl! How could she do this to Rob? I'll never talk to her again! Oh, Mother, you should have seen him! He was heartbroken! I could have cried!"
Mrs. Martin looked at Elizabeth worriedly. "Where is he now, Elizabeth?"
"He said he needed fresh air and went out."
"And you let him leave? In the state he was in?" Mrs. Martin nearly fainted. "I hope he won't..."
Catherine shook her head and looked at her in horror. "Oh no, Mother, he won't! Don't even think of such a thing! Please! He'll be back soon, I am sure!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Robert was walking around, not knowing where he was going, and not caring about it, either. He was too much absorbed in his own thoughts. All he could think of was Harriet, and he tried desperately to find a reason for what had happened to him.
She says she doesn't love me. But I was so sure! How could I be so mistaken? We spent so much time together, and she seemed to like it. And it was not just me who believed she was in love with me. Liz thought so too, and she knows Harriet very well. Harriet...
What went wrong?
It is getting rather cold here now. Just look at the sky. The moon and the stars are very bright tonight. Looks like it's going to be a chilly night... It might have been a good idea to take my coat with me. But then -- what does it matter if I freeze to death right here? Who cares? She won't... Now don't be unfair, Rob, she would care, perhaps. But not much.
Robert looked around him and recognised the place. It was the same place where he had been with Harriet in summer, two days before her birthday. If Liz had not turned up then, what would have happened? Would he have had the courage to talk to her, tell her what he was feeling? And what would she have said then? He didn't know.
How could she do this to me? I really thought she loved me, a little, at least. That summer evening, right here... there was magic in the air then. Rob, you're stupid to think of that now. It's over, and that evening won't come back. Thinking of it will only hurt you. Every thought or her hurts, but I cannot help it. I still love her. That feeling will never change, no matter what she or anybody else says.
He looked up into the sky again. The first frost this year... what a difference to that summer evening with Harriet.
"Robert?" This was George's voice. "I thought I would find you here."
Robert gave a bitter laugh. "How did you know?"
"Just a lucky guess, I think. It seems to be a rule that men with a broken heart prefer places where they were happy once. I don't know why they do it, to feed their melancholy, perhaps?"
"Can't you just leave me alone, George?"
"No, I can't. I am here to take you home."
"And what if I don't go with you?"
"Then I'll stay here with you and we'll both freeze to death." He smiled. "Take that responsibility, if you can. I've got your coat here, by the way. I thought you might need it. It's not summer any more, you know."
With these words, George put the coat around Robert's shoulder and sat down next to him. For a while, nobody spoke. George knew his friend very well. Robert would start talking to him as soon as he felt like it. And it was no use asking him, or trying to make him talk, if he didn't feel like it.
Finally Robert said, "I thought you were in London."
"I was on my way home and thought I`d drop in at Abbey Mill Farm. Your mother and sisters were really worried about you. Your mother thought you might have done something rash. I promised them to find you and to take you home."
"You know what has happened?"
"Catherine has told me, yes."
"How could this happen? What did I do wrong?"
George shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "I don't know, Robert. But I don't think you did anything wrong. There are some things in life that we cannot influence, that is all."
"I could have sworn she liked me!"
"Well, so she did, I think. But there is a huge difference between liking and love, Robert."
"I know there is. Do you know what the worst thing is?"
"No, but I am sure you're going to tell me in a moment."
"The worst thing is that I love her nevertheless. She has broken my heart, and all hope is gone, but I still love her."
"Robert, that's natural. You can't tell your feelings to stop just because she doesn't love you. But it will get better, I promise."
"Don't promise anything you cannot keep. And what do you mean with "better"? Better in which way?"
"I think you will feel better after some time. It won't hurt so much any more. And one day you'll realise that you haven't thought of her for quite some time, and you won't care if you happen to meet her. Then you've got over it. You'll find a new love, a girl who deserves and appreciates you."
Robert shook his head decidedly. "I'll never fall in love again. I won't be so stupid any more."
George laughed. "Of course you will, but I understand you well. Listen, Robert, if Miss Smith was silly enough to refuse you she doesn't deserve you. You'll find someone better, believe me."
Robert looked at him furiously. "George, do you care for our friendship?
"You know I do. I wouldn't be here if I didn't."
"Then you shouldn't talk about her like that. Never. You liked her when she was here, right? Well, she hasn't changed. Perhaps it was my entire fault. Anyway, never say anything bad about her again. Not when I am around."
"I won't. Robert, it is getting really cold here and your family are extremely worried. Let's go back."
They both got up and went back to the house.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Mrs. Martin was happy and relieved to see that her son was alive and well. Sometimes she felt that she was over-protective, especially since her husband's death. Of course she knew that Robert was too sensible to think of suicide, but when a lost love was in the case, one could never know. When George had arrived, she had begged him to look for Robert and to bring him back home safely. If she trusted in one person to be able to handle this situation, it was he. He and Robert had been friends ever since their boyhood. Surely Robert would listen to him, and maybe George's friendly and cheerful ways would help him to forget his sorrow for the moment.
Now that the two gentlemen had arrived in the house, she did everything to make them feel comfortable. Some grog was ordered, to warm them, and they were seated in front of a blazing fire.
"Mr. Mason, I am afraid it is too late for you to go home tonight. Were you expected?"
"No, Mrs. Martin, my parents do not expect me before tomorrow."
"I would be honoured if you stayed here for the night, then."
"Thank you Madam. I'll be very glad to." He smiled. "Actually, the thought of going out into the cold again didn't really tempt me." So this matter was settled, George was to stay with the Martins.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Robert couldn't sleep that night. The thought of Harriet haunted him. He kept turning in his bed, trying to forget his disappointment, at least long enough to be able to get to sleep. It didn't work. He got up and went into the drawing room. Perhaps some reading would help... When he reached for the book and read the title, however, he remembered the morning when he had last met Harriet.
The Romance of the Forest...she always wanted me to read it. The only thing she ever asked me to do, and I forgot about it! She must have thought I don't care for her!
For heaven's sake, can't I do anything without thinking of her? How long will that go on?
Not forever, I hope.
Robert sighed, settled down in his chair and opened the book. He tried to concentrate on his book, and after a while he succeeded.
Some time later, he fell asleep.
The noise of the door slamming shut woke him up.
"Rob? Are you in here?"
"Liz?" he said sleepily.
"I thought you were in here when you weren't in your room. It's time for breakfast."
"Did I sleep in here all night?"
"Looks like it. It's nearly nine o'clock."
Robert stretched. "Spending a night in a chair is nothing I'd recommend to you, Liz. Every bone hurts. Well, that reminds me I'm alive, at least."
"Rob, is it still that bad?"
"Even worse, Liz. Yesterday I was in a state of shock, but now I begin to see everything more clearly. All my hopes and plans are ruined. I'll have to get over it, but I guess it will take some time."
"Rob, I don't think that letter was written by Harriet."
Robert looked at his sister doubtfully. "What?"
"I've read the letter, it is not her style at all. It is her handwriting, but not her way of expressing things. And the letter came from Hartfield, right? I think Miss Woodhouse made her write that letter."
Robert thought for a moment, and then he said, "What difference does that make? If she really loved me, she wouldn't write a letter like that just because she is told to. She may have asked for Miss Woodhouse's help, because she wasn't sure how to express herself, but the feelings must be hers. I don't care if the words are not her own, it's the feeling that counts. She made it clear that she doesn't love me, and I cannot blame her for that."
Elizabeth sighed. "You are right there, Rob. Still, it's hard to believe, and Rob, if you need me, just tell me, will you?"
Robert smiled.
Liz...you have a heart of gold, always ready to help. If only you could help me now.
"I will, Liz. Well, I'd better go and make myself presentable. Is George still here?"
"Oh yes, he is."
"Tell them I'll join them directly."
Chapter 7
Harriet hardly slept that night, too. The thought of Robert Martin and his disappointment kept her awake, and many tears were shed on his account. She also cried because she knew that her refusal to marry him would be the end of her friendship with his sisters.
"Elizabeth will never forgive me," she thought, "and Catherine will be disappointed, as well! Oh, what have I done! I could have been happy there, couldn't I?"
But she felt that all her remorse was in vain, that she could not change what she had done.
In the morning, she went to Mrs. Goddard's to pack a few clothes, because Emma had invited her to stay in Hartfield for a few days.
"You are invited to Hartfield?" Miss Nash asked. "I hope you are aware of how grateful you ought to be for so much attention. Miss Woodhouse must be very much in want of a companion if she puts up with someone like you."
Harriet excused herself and went to her room to get packing. On the stairs, she met Mr. Perry who had visited a sick girl, and directed him into the drawing room to meet Miss Nash. In all those years, she had got used to Miss Nash's ways and didn't mind her insults as much as she used to do when she was little. Elizabeth Martin had consoled her very often, and had taught her only to worry about things she could change. Elizabeth.....she had been such a valuable friend, always there for her, always helpful. And she had a natural talent to cheer people up.
I am sure she will be there for her brother, too, Harriet thought. I hope he is not too unhappy.
When she had finished packing, she went to the drawing room to fetch her work basket.
"Miss Smith, Mr. Perry has just told me something very interesting," Miss Nash said.
"Did he, Miss Nash," said Harriet, hoping to get away from Miss Nash as soon as possible.
Surely it was just another piece of gossip, not really worth listening to. But she was mistaken; soon she felt that this story was very interesting, indeed.
" Mr. Perry told me that he met Mr. Elton yesterday. It seems that Mr. Elton has gone to London and won't be back before tomorrow. What made Mr. Perry wonder was that it was whist-club night, and Mr. Elton has never missed that evening ever since he has come to Highbury. Mr. Perry tried to persuade him to stay, but there was no way. And do you know why Mr. Elton went to London?"
Harriet blushed. "I have no idea, Miss Nash."
"He said he was going on a business which he would not put off for any inducement in the world, that it was a very enviable commission and that he was the bearer of something exceedingly precious. He said this in a very particular way."
Miss Nash looked at Harriet slyly, as if to find out if Harriet had something to do with it.
"Mr. Perry then said that there must be a lady in the case, and Mr. Elton looked very conscious and smiled, and rode off in great spirits."
Harriet was suddenly very busy in arranging the contents of her work basket. She wanted to avoid being asked what Mr. Elton's business in London might be.
Miss Nash looked at her significantly and said, "I do not pretend to understand what his business might be, but I know that any woman whom Mr. Elton could prefer, should think herself the luckiest woman in the world. Mr. Elton has not his equal for beauty or agreeableness."
Harriet did not really want to talk about Mr. Elton with Miss Nash, and so she tried hard to think of a topic that would lead Miss Nash away from Mr. Elton. Then she saw Miss Nash's booklet that contained her collection of riddles and charades.
"How is your collection going, Miss Nash?"
"Very well. I have written out at least three hundred riddles."
"Amazing! Three hundred! Do you think I could find so many?"
"You can try, Miss Smith, but I doubt it."
Harriet looked at the clock. "Oh, is it so late already? I'm afraid I must leave, Miss Nash, Miss Woodhouse is waiting for me. Good bye!"
Harriet took her basket and went out into the direction of Hartfield. Now she was at leisure to think of Miss Nash's story. It made her smile happily.
I have to tell Miss Woodhouse about this, she thought. She will like it very much. An enviable commission....something precious...and even Miss Nash seems to believe that Mr. Elton is in love with me.
Perhaps Miss Nash is jealous, and that is why she treats me the way she does?
Don't get carried away, Harriet, Miss Nash has always been mean, not just now.
When she arrived at Hartfield, she found a very different Emma than usual. She looked like something had vexed her.
"Where have you been so long, dearest Harriet? I have been rather uneasy!"
Harriet told Emma what she had heard from Miss Nash, which seemed to make her a bit more cheerful. Still, she seemed to be displeased with something.
"Miss Woodhouse, did something happen while I was gone? You look as if something has distressed you."
But Emma assured her that nothing was wrong. She has spent her time in a very pleasant way, chatting with Mr. Knightley, and had only felt a bit irritated because Harriet had been gone so long.
"I thought something has happened to you. You must not do this to me any more, Harriet. I would be quite desperate without you."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The next few days passed very pleasantly. Harriet was in Hartfield, and Emma and she spent most of their time chatting away. Not that Emma did not have the best intentions of improving Harriet's mind and character, but it was easier and much more interesting to sit together and talk, than read serious books or practice playing the pianoforte.
Besides, Emma seemed to be determined to help Harriet to get Robert Martin out of her head, which meant that she talked a great deal of Mr. Elton.
Mr. Elton, himself, returned from London, and brought the neatly framed picture with him. The picture was hung over the mantelpiece in the drawing room, where everybody could see and admire it, something that Mr. Elton did affectionately.
Harriet was now sure that Mr. Elton loved her, and was determined to love him, too. How could such a man be refused? He was such a charming and handsome gentleman, and he was in love with her, the most stupid girl in Highbury. She didn't deserve that honour, but she was willing to do everything to deserve it. Everyone should see that she was not so foolish after all.
One evening, she told Emma about Miss Nash's collection of riddles, and expressed her wish to start a collection of her own.
"Miss Nash does not seem to think that I could collect as many riddles as she has got. She said so, you know."
And, after a while, she went on and said, "I wish I could write down twice as many riddles, just to show Miss Nash that I am not such a simpleton as she thinks."
Emma assured Harriet of her assistance in this project.
"I am sure there will be no problem, dear Harriet, in collecting even six hundred riddles. We will show Miss Nash that you can do better than she ever imagined."
So they set to work with ardour, and did very well for a start. Soon, however, their imagination and recollection failed, and assistance was needed.
The first person they asked for help was Mr. Woodhouse. He was as interested in the whole business as the girls, especially because this kept them indoors in such a cold and rainy weather as there was at the moment, and therefore they were not in the danger of catching colds.
Mr. Woodhouse often tried to please them with a riddle that was worth to be written down in the collection, but he always ended up with "Kitty, a fair but frozen maid".
He also tried to employ his friend, Mr. Perry, with finding some riddles or charades, but Mr. Perry did not seem to be able to recollect any riddles at present.
One evening, Mr. Elton was dining at Hartfield, and Emma asked him to contribute to their collection.
"Mr. Elton, you are such a well-read and intelligent gentleman, I am quite sure you know some really good enigmas, charades or conundrums? Miss Smith is collecting riddles in a book; her aim is to transcribe six hundred of them. She would be very grateful for your assistance."
Mr. Elton was eager to help, sat down next to Harriet and spent the next half hour trying to recollect some gallant riddles. This was perceived to be another sign of his attachment to her. Harriet listened to him as if she had never heard anything so interesting before, and could hardly believe her luck.
He is sitting next to me for nearly a half hour now, and he is so helpful! And the way he is looking at me! There can be no doubt; Mr. Elton is in love with me. He does talk a great deal to Miss Woodhouse though, but surely that is because he does not want the gossips to suspect anything. As a clergyman, he has to take care of his reputation. He cannot be too careful as to that. Just the fact that he is sitting here for so long is evidence enough for his love.
Finally, Mr. Elton told them another riddle.
"My first doth affliction denote,Which my second is destin'd to feel,
And my whole is the best antidote
That affliction to soften and heal."
Both Harriet and Emma felt very sorry to tell him that they had already transcribed this riddle a few pages ago.
"Why will you not write one yourself for us, Mr. Elton," said Emma. "That is the only security for its freshness; and nothing could be easier to you."
"Oh no! I have never written, hardly ever, any thing of the kind in my life. I am the stupidest fellow! I am afraid not even Miss Woodhouse.....or Miss Smith could inspire me."
And although Emma tried to persuade him after all, Mr. Elton seemed to be quite determined that he could not, and would not, write a riddle for Harriet's collection.
He is so modest. I am certain it would be ever so easy for him to write a charade! But he does not want to show off!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The next morning, Emma and Harriet were sitting in the drawing room, when Mr. Elton called.
"I am just stepping in for a moment, Miss Woodhouse, on my way to the Kents. Here is a charade, that a friend of mine has addressed to a lady whom he very much admires."
He put a piece of paper on the table and said, " I do not offer it for Miss Smith's collection. Being my friend's, I have no right to expose it in any degree to the public eye, but perhaps you may not dislike looking at it."
He was talking more to Emma than to Harriet, and had a conscious look about him. Harriet was a mere observer; the speech was entirely made to Emma.
The next moment, he was gone, and Emma pushed the paper towards Harriet.
"Take it," she said, smiling, " it is for you. Take your own."
Harriet was trembling with excitement, and was not able to take the paper. Emma therefore unfolded it and started reading. After a few minutes, she passed it on to Harriet, who had calmed down a bit, and sat there, watching Harriet and smiling contentedly.
Harriet, meanwhile, read the riddle, and tried desperately to get its meaning.
To Miss ___________Charade
My first displays the wealth and pomp of kings,
Lords of the earth! Their luxury and ease.
Another view of man, my second brings,
Behold him there, the monarch of the seas!
But, ah! united, what reverse we have!
Man's boasted power and freedom, all are flown,
Lord of the earth and sea, he bends a slave,
And woman, lovely woman, reigns alone.
Thy ready wit the word will soon supply,
May its approval beam in that soft eye!
"What can it be, Miss Woodhouse? What can it be? I have not an idea, I cannot guess in the least! What can it possibly be? Do try to find it out, Miss Woodhouse. Do help me. I never saw anything so hard."
And I thought I could prove that I am not so stupid. Now I'm not even able to solve that riddle! Well done, Harriet, what will he think of you?
"Is it kingdom? I wonder who the friend was-and who could be the young lady? Do you think it is a good one? Can it be woman?
And woman, lovely woman reigns alone.
Can it be Neptune?
Behold him there, the monarch of the seas.
Or a trident? Or a mermaid? Or a shark? Oh no! Shark is only one syllable. It must be very clever, or he would not have brought it. Oh, Miss Woodhouse, do you think we shall ever find it out?"
Emma smiled at her reassuringly, and said, "Mermaids and sharks, nonsense! My dear Harriet, what are you thinking of? Where would be the use of his bringing us a charade made by a friend upon a mermaid or a shark? Give me the paper and listen.
For Miss______________- read Miss Smith.
My first displays the wealth and pomp of kings,Lords of the earth! Their luxury and ease.
That is "court".
Another view of man my second brings;Behold him there, the monarch of the seas.
That is "ship", as plain as it can be. Now for the cream.
But, ah! united,(courtship, you know),
what reverse we have!Man's boasted power and freedom, all are flown;
Lord of the earth and sea, he bends a slave,
And woman, lovely woman reigns alone."
Emma looked at Harriet with sparkling eyes. "A very proper compliment! And then follows the application, which I think, my dear Harriet, you cannot find much difficulty in comprehending. Read it in comfort to yourself. There can be no doubt of its being written for you and to you."
Harriet took the paper and read.
It is true! He is in love with me, and asks my permission to pay me his addresses! And how gallantly he does that! A true gentleman! He was mistaken about my ready wit, though; I needed Miss Woodhouse's help to understand the riddle. But now I know how he feels about me, although it is still a bit hard to believe.
She listened to Emma, who did her best to convince her even more of Mr. Elton's affection.
"There is so pointed a meaning in this compliment, that I cannot have a moment's doubt as to Mr. Elton's intentions. You are his object- and you will soon receive the completest proof of it. I thought it must be so. I thought I could not be so deceived; but now, it is clear; the state of mind is as clear and decided as my wishes on the subject have been ever since I knew you. Yes, Harriet, just so long have I been wanting the very circumstance to happen which has happened. I could never tell whether an attachment between you and Mr. Elton were most desirable or most natural. Its probability and eligibility have really so equaled each other!"
She always knew? Perhaps this was why she did not like Robert Martin. She thought I was in love with him, and was afraid that I might refuse Mr. Elton. She is right, though, being Mrs. Elton is better than being Mrs. Martin- but I still think I could have been happy with Mr. Martin, if I had tried.
"I am very happy. I congratulate you, dear Harriet, with all my heart. This is an attachment which a woman may well feel pride in creating. This is a connection which offers nothing but good."
Harriet was too overwhelmed to say any more than "Dear Miss Woodhouse", and she embraced Emma, quite overpowered by her own feeling of happiness.
The conversation went on, Emma describing to her all the advantages of her marrying Mr. Elton, and Harriet praising her for her foresight and cleverness.
"That Mr. Elton should really be in love with me, me of all people! Who did not know him, to speak to him, at Michaelmas! And he, the very handsomest man that ever was, and a man that everybody looks up to, quite like Mr. Knightley! His company so sought after, that everybody says he need not eat a single meal by himself if he does not choose it; that he has more invitations than there are days in the week!"
She could still not quite believe in her own luck, but was sure that Emma must be right. But then she was struck by a horrible thought.
"How shall I ever be able to return the paper, or say that I have found it out? Oh, Miss Woodhouse, what can we do about that?"
"Leave it to me. You do nothing. He will be here this evening, I dare say, and then I will give it him back, and some nonsense or other will pass between us, and you shall not be committed. Your soft eyes shall choose their own time for beaming. Trust to me."
"Oh, Miss Woodhouse, what a pity that I must not write this beautiful charade into my book; I am sure I have not got one half so good."
"Leave out the two last lines, and there is no reason why you should not write it into your book."
"Oh, but those two lines are..."
"...the best of all. Granted; for private enjoyment; and for private enjoyment keep them. They are not at all the less written you know, because you divide them. The couplet does not cease to be, nor does its meaning change. But take it away, and all appropriation ceases, and a very pretty gallant charade remains, fit for any collection. Depend upon it, he would not like his charade slighted, much better than his passion. A poet in love must be encouraged in both capacities, or neither. Give me the book, I will write it down, and then there can be no possible reflection on you."
Harriet gave her the book reluctantly. For her, the whole charade was so precious, that she did not want to have it torn apart, or written down for other people to read.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Later that morning, Mr. Elton came back to Hartfield, to ask whether his presence might be needed in Hartfield in the evening.
Harriet turned away from him. She was afraid that her face would betray too much of her feelings if she talked to him now.
"I would not dare to stay away from Hartfield if I were necessary here, Miss Woodhouse, but my friend Mr. Cole has invited me for dinner and has made such a point of it, that I have promised him to come, in case I am not needed here, that is."
"Thank you for your kind inquiry, Mr. Elton. I cannot allow you to disappoint your friend on our account. My father will have enough company to play cards with."
"Are you sure, Miss Woodhouse? I would not wish to disappoint your father."
"You certainly will not disappoint him, Mr. Elton."
Mr. Elton was about to take his bow and leave the room, when Emma took the paper containing his riddle and gave it back to him.
"Oh, here is the charade you were so obliging as to leave with us; thank you for the sight of it. We admired it so much, that I have ventured to write it into Miss Smith's collection. Your friend will not take it amiss, I hope. Of course I have not transcribed beyond the first eight lines."
Mr. Elton looked surprised and confused. "Oh, what an honour..." he stammered.
He looked at both Emma and Harriet, as if he was trying to find out what they thought about the charade. Then he saw the book on the table, and took it up to read it.
Emma smiled and said, "You must make my apologies to your friend, but so good a charade must not be confined to one or two. He may be sure of every woman's approbation while he writes with such gallantry."
"I have no hesitation in saying, at least if my friend feels at all as I do, I have not the smallest doubt that, could he see his little effusion honoured as I see it, he would consider it as the proudest moment of his life."
With these words, he put the book back on the table, and took his leave shortly afterwards.
Emma left the room, and Harriet was alone to muse about her feelings and her future happiness.
************
Continued in Part 2
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