Amanda Grange: Mr. Knightley’s Diary

"Emma has been meaning to read more ever since she was twelve years old," I returned. "Where Miss Taylor failed to stimulate, I may safely affirm that Harriet Smith will do nothing."

I did not realize until I had said it that my remark seemed to reflect badly on Mrs. Weston’s abilities as a governess, and so I redeemed myself by telling her I thought she was much more suited to being a wife.

"Though I am afraid you are rather thrown away on Weston," I remarked, "and that with every disposition to bear, there will be nothing to be borne. We will not despair, however. Weston may grow cross from the wantonness of comfort, or his son may plague him."

"I hope not that," she returned. "It is not likely. I had a very well-written letter from him on my marriage."

She gave it to me and I read it, but although I said it was very fine, I privately thought it was a poor substitute for a visit. He should have paid her that courtesy on her marriage, and not all the obstacles in the world should have prevented him.

"He was very sorry not to be here," she said, "but Mrs. Churchill was not well, and insisted on his accompanying her to Weymouth. Her physician felt the sea air would be beneficial to her health."

I managed no more than a harrumph! Though the Churchills took him in when his mother died and made him their heir, Weston being ill-equipped to care for a two-year-old son, and though he had taken their name, I still felt that, if his character had been what it ought, he would have made a point of calling on his new stepmother on her marriage.

She seemed to read my thoughts, for she said: "We will not argue about him."

"No, indeed. I have not come to plague you about your stepson. Rather, I have come to plague you about Emma, and I have not half done. I cannot agree with you in thinking this friendship a good thing. Miss Smith knows nothing herself, and looks upon Emma as knowing everything. How can Emma imagine she has any thing to learn herself, while Harriet is presenting such a delightful inferiority? And as for Miss Smith, I will venture to say that she cannot gain by the acquaintance. Hartfield will only put her out of conceit with all the other places she belongs to."

"I either depend more upon Emma’s good sense than you do, or am more anxious for her present comfort; for I cannot lament the acquaintance," said Mrs. Weston. "Emma must have a friend of her own age to talk to."

I said no more, and our conversation turned to other matters, but I still feel an anxiety about Emma and I will be glad when the friendship has run its course.

Saturday 17 October

I visited Hartfield this morning, and had the good fortune to find Emma alone. Moreover, she was reading a book. Feeling somewhat heartened by this, I asked her how her plans to educate her little friend were getting along.

"I have drawn up a programme of reading," she said. "We mean to study all the great authors."

"This is most impressive," I said, as she handed me the list.

It was beautifully laid out, and was written in the most exquisite hand. A great deal of thought had gone into selecting the list, and a lot of care had gone into its presentation.

"I wanted Harriet to have a feel for the beauty of our language, and so I thought I would guide her through some of our greatest works," she said, pleased with my praise.

"And which of these have you started?"

"All of them."

"All of them?" I asked in surprise.

"Yes. We mean to finish them by Christmas."

"An ambitious plan," I said. "You will need to read a book every week. Do you not think it would be better to read half as many books and devote twice as much time to each?"

"We can always read them a second time, in a more leisurely manner, later on, but Harriet is eager to make up for the deficiencies of her education as soon as possible. I do not say that Mrs. Goddard has been lax," said Emma graciously. "Quite the opposite. She has given Harriet sound basics. But it is up to me to further her education, and make it equal that of a young lady."

I did not know whether to scold her for her pomposity or tease her for her conceit, so instead I sought to open her eyes to her friend’s capabilities.

"My dear Emma, Harriet has no interest in literature. She was happy at the Martins" farm, marking her height on the wall and claiming a pretty cow."

"Which is why I must take her in hand, for then she will add an appreciation of literature, music and art to her repertoire of interests."

It was useless to argue with this misguided notion, particularly as I am convinced that the programme of education will last no longer than any of her previous programmes. It will start in an excess of zeal, and end in the plans being laid aside in favour of a walk into Highbury.

I saw a way that that could be turned to my advantage.

"Have you visited Miss Bates lately?" I asked.

"Not lately," she said lightly, but she looked uncomfortable.

She knows that I think she should visit Miss Bates more often than she does.

"She always thinks it an honour when you call, and being situated as you are, in a position of comfort and ease, and with Miss Bates being situated as she is, in a position of dwindling income, you should not be remiss in your attentions," I reminded her.

"Very well, I will call on her this afternoon. I will take Harriet," she said, brightening. "We will be ready for a break from our studies by then."

It is as I thought. A visit to Miss Bates is far more welcome to her when it is an alternative to study!

Monday 19 October

I dined with my friend Graham this evening. We were a small party, just Graham, the Coles, Elton, and Graham’s widowed sister.

"My sister, Mrs. Lovage, has joined me from Bath," said Graham, as he introduced us.

I wondered if here could be the woman I was looking for. She impressed me at our first meeting with her beauty and her good manners, followed closely by her good sense. I asked her about Bath, and Elton joined in the conversation.

"Do you know Bath?" she asked him.

"I know it very well. I visited there with my sisters only recently," he said.

"Your sisters are not Mrs. Winchester and Miss Catherine Elton?" asked Mrs. Lovage.

"Yes, indeed they are."

"But this is famous!" cried Mrs. Lovage. "I know them well. We often take tea together."

There were the usual congratulations, and Mrs. Lovage spoke sensibly about their mutual acquaintances, whilst the Coles added their experiences of Bath to the conversation.

"You must also know the Framptons," said Mrs. Lovage. "Miss Frampton has newly become engaged to a Mr. Bradshaw."

"I am very pleased for her," said Elton. "I believe the other Misses Frampton will not be far behind their sister. They are beautiful girls, with twenty thousand pounds apiece."

From the way he spoke of them it was clear he was intimate with them, and if I do not miss my guess, he has thoughts of marrying one or other of them.

"Nothing lifts the spirits so much as a wedding," said Mrs. Lovage. She turned to me. "Do you not think so, Mr. Knightley?"

"They are generally thought agreeable."

"I hear you have had a wedding of your own here recently?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weston is newly married."

"Then I must pay her my respects tomorrow," she said.

After dinner, we talked of more serious matters and I found that Mrs. Lovage was able to hold an intelligent conversation on a variety of subjects. She expressed an interest in old buildings and we talked of the Abbey at some length. I was about to invite her to visit, when Elton broke into our conversation, mentioning more of his Bath acquaintance, and the moment was lost.

I would like to see Emma become as well-informed as Mrs. Lovage, but as she does not mix with the Grahams, and would consider them quite beneath her, it is unlikely she will make Mrs. Lovage’s acquaintance. She will grow out of this false sense of superiority, I hope. It is all very well to preserve distinction of class within reason, particularly if inferiority of station is mixed with inferiority of mind, but where there is only a slight disparity it is nonsense, and I hope that one day Emma will see it.