LITMIR.BIZ

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will not be in Bond-street till just before he mounts his horse to-morrow. It is his companion all this evening, his solace, his delight. It opens his designs to his family, it introduces you among them, it diffuses through the party those pleasantest feelings of our nature, eager curiosity and warm prepossession. How cheerful, how animated, how suspicious, how busy their imaginations all are!”

      Harriet smiled again, and her smiles grew stronger.

       a

CHAPTER VIII

      HARRIET SLEPT AT HARTFIELD THAT NIGHT. FOR SOME WEEKS PAST SHE HAD been spending more than half her time there, and gradually getting to have a bed-room appropriated to herself; and Emma judged it best in every respect, safest and kindest, to keep her with them as much as possible just at present. She was obliged to go the next morning for an hour or two to Mrs. Goddard’s, but it was then to be settled that she should return to Hartfield, to make a regular visit of some days.

      While she was gone, Mr. Knightley called, and sat some time with Mr. Woodhouse and Emma, till Mr. Woodhouse, who had previously made up his mind to walk out, was persuaded by his daughter not to defer it, and was induced by the entreaties of both, though against the scruples of his own civility, to leave Mr. Knightley for that purpose. Mr. Knightley, who had nothing of ceremony about him, was offering by his short, decided answers, an amusing contrast to the protracted apologies and civil hesitations of the other.

      “Well, I believe, if you will excuse me, Mr. Knightley, if you will not consider me as doing a very rude thing, I shall take Emma’s advice and go out for a quarter of an hour. As the sun is out, I believe I had better take my three turns while I can. I treat you without ceremony, Mr. Knightley. We invalids think we are privileged people.”

      “My dear sir, do not make a stranger of me.”

      “I leave an excellent substitute in my daughter. Emma will be happy to entertain you. And therefore I think I will beg your excuse and take my three turns—my winter walk.”

      “You cannot do better, sir.”

      “I would ask for the pleasure of your company, Mr. Knightley, but I am a very slow walker, and my pace would be tedious to you; and, besides, you have another long walk before you, to Donwell Abbey.”

      “Thank you, sir, thank you; I am going this moment myself; and I think the sooner you go the better. I will fetch your greatcoat and open the garden door for you.”

      Mr. Woodhouse at last was off; but Mr. Knightley, instead of being immediately off likewise, sat down again, seemingly inclined for more chat. He began speaking of Harriet, and speaking of her with more voluntary praise than Emma had ever heard before.

      “I cannot rate her beauty as you do,” said he; “but she is a pretty little creature, and I am inclined to think very well of her disposition. Her character depends upon those she is with; but in good hands she will turn out a valuable woman.”

      “I am glad you think so; and the good hands, I hope, may not be wanting.”

      “Come,” said he, “you are anxious for a compliment, so I will tell you that you have improved her. You have cured her of her school-girl’s giggle; she really does you credit.”

      “Thank you. I should be mortified indeed if I did not believe I had been of some use; but it is not every body who will bestow praise where they may. You do not often overpower me with it.”

      “You are expecting her again, you say, this morning?”

      “Almost every moment. She has been gone longer already than she intended.”

      “ Something has happened to delay her; some visitors perhaps.”

      “Highbury gossips!—Tiresome wretches!”

      “Harriet may not consider every body tiresome that you would.”

      Emma knew this was too true for contradiction, and therefore said nothing. He presently added, with a smile,

      “I do not pretend to fix on times or places, but I must tell you that I have good reason to believe your little friend will soon hear of something to her advantage.”

      “Indeed! how so? of what sort?”

      “A very serious sort, I assure you;” still smiling.

      “Very serious! I can think of but one thing—Who is in love with her? Who makes you their confidant?”

      Emma was more than half in hopes of Mr. Elton’s having dropt a hint. Mr. Knightley was a sort of general friend and adviser, and she knew Mr. Elton looked up to him.

      “I have reason to think,” he replied, “that Harriet Smith will soon have an offer of marriage, and from a most unexceptionable quarter:—Robert Martin is the man. Her visit to Abbey-Mill, this summer, seems to have done his business. He is desperately in love and means to marry her.”

      “He is very obliging,” said Emma; “but is he sure that Harriet means to marry him?”

      “Well, well, means to make her an offer then. Will that do? He came to the Abbey two evenings ago, on purpose to consult me about it. He knows I have a thorough regard for him and all his family, and, I believe, considers me as one of his best friends. He came to ask me whether I thought it would be imprudent in him to settle so early; whether I thought her too young: in short, whether I approved his choice altogether; having some apprehension perhaps of her being considered (especially since your making so much of her) as in a line of society above him. I was very much pleased with all that he said. I never hear better sense from any one than Robert Martin. He always speaks to the purpose; open, straightforward, and very well judging. He told me every thing; his circumstances and plans, and what they all proposed doing in the event of his marriage. He is an excellent young man, both as son and brother. I had no hesitation in advising him to marry. He proved to me that he could afford it; and that being the case, I was convinced he could not do better. I praised the fair lady too, and altogether sent him away very happy. If he had never esteemed my opinion before, he would have thought highly of me then; and, I dare say, left the house thinking me the best friend and counsellor man ever had. This happened the night before last. Now, as we may fairly suppose, he would not allow much time to pass before he spoke to the lady, and as he does not appear to have spoken yesterday, it is not unlikely that he should be at

      Mrs. Goddard’s to-day; and she may be detained by a visitor, without thinking him at all a tiresome wretch.”

      “Pray, Mr. Knightley,” said Emma, who had been smiling to herself through a great part of this speech, “how do you know that Mr. Martin did not speak yesterday?”

      “Certainly,” replied he, surprized, “I do not absolutely know it; but it may be inferred. Was not she the whole day with you?”

      “Come,” said she, “I will tell you something, in return for what you have told me. He did speak yesterday—that is, he wrote, and was refused.”

      This was obliged to be repeated before it could be believed; and Mr. Knightley actually looked red with surprize and displeasure, as he stood up, in tall indignation, and said,

      “Then she is a greater simpleton than I ever believed her. What is the foolish girl about?”

      “Oh! to be sure,” cried Emma, “it is always incomprehensible to a man that a woman should ever refuse an offer of marriage. A man always imagines a woman to be ready for any body who asks her.”

      “Nonsense! a man does not imagine any such thing. But what is the meaning of this? Harriet Smith refuse Robert Martin? madness, if it is so; but I hope you are mistaken.”

      “I saw her answer!—nothing could be clearer.”

      “You saw her answer!—you wrote her answer too. Emma, this is your doing. You persuaded her to refuse him.”

      “And if I did,

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