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Amanda Grange: Mr. Knightley’s Diary

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Amanda Grange Mr. Knightley’s Diary

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Relive Jane Austen's - from Mr. Knightley's point of view. Between managing his estate and visiting his brother in London, Mr. Knightley is both exasperated and amused by his irresistibly beautiful, outrageously mischievous neighbor, Emma Woodhouse, whose misguided attempts at matchmaking are wreaking havoc in the village of Highbury. But when a handsome newcomer arrives and catches Emma's attention, Mr. Knightley is shocked by his reaction. Amusement gives way to another emotion entirely-for his unreasonable dislike of the handsome newcomer seems suspiciously like jealousy.

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Not only would it set Miss Bates’s mind at ease, but it would give me great pleasure to have Miss Fairfax here. Emma could not fail to see the difference between Miss Fairfax and Miss Smith, and I am persuaded that, even with her prejudice, she would soon learn to value Miss Fairfax’s company.

"I have already asked her to come to us," said Miss Bates.

"And have you received a reply?"

"Yes. Alas, she cannot oblige us. She has already promised the Campbells to spend Christmas with them," said Miss Bates.

I was disappointed, but it could not be helped.

Miss Bates’s alarm gradually faded, and by the time Mr. Weston came in, she was calm once more. He and I retreated to his study to talk business. When we had done, I mentioned the letter and I found that he had not yet seen it.

"What! Frank! Saved Miss Fairfax!" said he, highly gratified. "Never was a man more fortunate in his son. You should have one yourself, Knightley. Marry! Take a wife! Mrs. Lovage would be willing," he added.

"Mrs. Lovage has returned to Bath," I said.

"She would come back quickly enough, if she thought there was hope."

"Can no one think of anything but marriage?" I exclaimed. I did not mean to speak so brusquely, but I was disappointed that I had not been able to feel any thing for Mrs. Lovage. "You and John are trying to find me a wife, and Emma..."

"Emma?" he asked.

I had no intention of disclosing her plans to find Elton a wife, for they would not please Elton if he came to hear of them. He might be deferential in his behaviour towards her because of her standing in the neighbourhood, but even that would not reconcile him to the idea of her meddling in his affairs.

"Emma is keen to make another match, after claiming to have made yours."

"Perhaps she did," he said jovially.

"She thought of it, that is all!" I rebuked him.

"If she wants to make a match, she should make one for you!" he returned.

"Hah! She knows me better than to think I would have someone of her choosing," I said.

"She chose very well for me."

I saw there was no arguing with him, and I said no more. Let him think Emma arranged his marriage if he wishes! It can do no harm, as long as he does not say so to her.

Saturday 7 November

This evening, Miss Bates was still talking of her alarm over Jane’s accident, and she recounted the incident over dinner at Graham’s. Mr. and Mrs. Cole said everything necessary to reassure her, and she exclaimed that she did not know what she would do without such good friends.

"A fine woman," remarked Mr. Longridge of Miss Bates, once the ladies had withdrawn. "She reminds me of my dear wife."

He blew his nose, and became quiet.

I thought he had been recently bereaved, but I later learnt that his wife died twenty years ago. However, he still speaks of her with great affection.

The talk after dinner was of politics and business until we joined the ladies, whereupon Mrs. Weston sang for us. I joined her, and I felt it was an evening well spent.

Thursday 12 November

I walked in on a pretty scene this morning when I called at Hartfield. Emma was netting a purse, and Harriet was hemming a handkerchief.

"You find us usefully employed," said Emma.

"I do indeed."

Both girls were in good spirits. I could not begrudge Emma her friendship when I saw how happy she was, though I still wished Harriet was a more suitable companion.

Harriet was sewing very prettily, however, and spoke to me sensibly about her work. If she became vague when I asked her what she had been reading, I did not hold it against her. Emma’s plan for her education was very grand, and never likely to succeed.

I talked to Mr. Woodhouse, attending to some papers that had been troubling him, and stayed at Hartfield for luncheon. Mr. Woodhouse was alarmed at the quantity of meat I ate, averring it would do me no good and begging me to join him in a bowl of gruel, but Emma distracted him by talking of Isabella’s forthcoming visit, and I was able to finish my meal in peace.

Saturday 21 November

The plans for the new barn at Abbey Mill Farm are coming on well. When Robert Martin called at the Abbey to speak to me about them, we looked at them together.

I happened to mention that I had seen Miss Smith at Hartfield, and he said that his sisters would be glad to hear it. He said that he was going to Kingston after leaving me, and let slip that he intended to buy a book she had recommended.

"What is it?" I enquired, wondering whether it was a book on Harriet’s reading list.

He went red and fingered his cravat, then told me its name rather shamefacedly.

I could not help smiling. Emma may not have been able to induce her friend to read Shakespeare, but Harriet has managed to persuade Robert Martin to read The Romance of the Forest!

Wednesday 25 November

Of all the evenings it is possible to spend, a companionable evening with friends is the best. I spent one such evening at Hartfield today. Mr. Woodhouse was in high spirits, having been assured by Perry that his health was good, and Emma was sitting by the fire, sketching. Harriet was copying some pictures from a fashion journal. I was reading the newspaper, and reading out such things as I thought might interest them.

After a while, I laid my newspaper aside and went over to look at Emma’s work. I saw that she had been sketching her father.

"So you are serious about resuming your sketching?" I said.

"I am. I felt an urge to take a likeness of Harriet," she said, "and I wanted to refresh my hand."

I found myself hoping she would persevere with the undertaking, for it had a spirited style, but alas! I thought her likeness of Harriet would probably join the other half-finished sketches in her portfolio.

As I walked back to the Abbey I was well-pleased with life. The weather was fine, I had the pleasure of a visit from John and Isabella to look forward to, and in the meantime I had many more evenings to spend at Hartfield.

Thursday 26 November

When I visited Hartfield this evening, I found Emma sitting with her father, Harriet and Elton. As I walked into the room, I saw that Harriet was entertaining Mr. Woodhouse, whilst Emma talked to Elton.

"Harriet looks very well this evening," I heard her say, as I sat down and began looking at the newspaper.

"Yes, indeed," replied her companion.

"I thought she was looking rather pale this morning, so I suggested we take a walk. I believe it has brightened her complexion."

"Admirable!" he said. "A walk! Exercise! Just the thing."

"Do you not think her complexion has been brightened by it?" she pressed him, as he did not follow up her hint.

It was at this moment I began to suspect her motives for encouraging him to notice her friend, and to think that she wanted to make a match between Harriet and Elton!

I did not know whether to feel annoyance or pity. Emma had mistaken her man if she thought Elton would marry a parlour boarder, a young girl without name, birth or dowry to recommend her.

Elton had no suspicion, however, and was, as always, eager to defer to Miss Woodhouse of Hartfield.

"Indeed I do. I noticed her complexion particularly. Why, it has been brightened by fresh air and exercise! I thought as I came into the room. It was just what she needed to bring out her beauty. So good of you to take the trouble!"

"I am sure it was good of Harriet to take the time to walk with me," she said, firmly turning the conversation back to Harriet’s advantages.

Hah! I thought in amusement. Now, Elton, turn that into a compliment to Emma if you can!

I continued to be amused by them, as they carried on at cross purposes for the next quarter of an hour, Emma trying to make a match between a glove and a mitten, and Elton to raise his standing in the village by flattering Miss Woodhouse. I waited for them to grow tired of it, but as they showed no signs of doing so, at last I emerged from my newspaper and forced them to engage in more general and rational conversation.

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