Mr. Knightley's Diary

by Amanda Grange

  'I've come to ask for your advice, Mr Knightley,' he said.

  'I will give you whatever help I can, Robert, you know that,' I said.

  'Yes, I do.'

  'What is the matter?' I asked him, to help him on his way.

  'It is this way,' he said, then added, not very helpfully: 'I trust your judgement, Mr Knightley. You've helped me many a time in the past, and I hope you can help me now.' He cleared his throat, and I wondered if he would ever get to the point. 'I am beforehand with the world, and doing well with the farm. My mother and sisters want for nothing, I've seen to that.'

  I said nothing, wondering where all this was leading.

  'Well, Mr Knightley, the thing is this. I am of an age to marry, and being so well set up with the farm, and after seeing Harriet--that is, Miss Smith--and her being so pretty and well-spoken, and being a good friend of my sisters, and a favourite with my mother--that is, I am not marrying her for my mother or my sisters but for myself, because a man needs a wife and I am a man--'

  He stopped, having tied himself in knots, and I could feel some sympathy for him. I remembered how it was with John, when he proposed to Isabella. He, too, was like a schoolboy when he left the Abbey that morning. His air of address had completely deserted him.

  'You do not need my permission to marry, Robert,' I said, as he paused.

  'No, Mr Knightley, I know that, I need no man's permission, but I was just wanting a bit of advice. I was wondering what you would think of me marrying so young, and whether you think I would be wrong to ask Miss Smith, as she is so young, too. And then...' He went as red as a turkey-cock. 'The thing is, Mr Knightley, Miss Smith being a friend of Miss Woodhouse's, and being so pretty and all, I was wondering if she wasn't too far above me?'

  I was astounded! A penniless girl with no name, being above an honest farmer? A man with a comfortable living and a good name in the neighbourhood?

  'Not at all,' I told him. I felt I should offer a word of caution. 'As long as you are sure you can afford it?'

  'Oh, yes, I've been into all that, and I've talked it over with my mother and sisters, too. They're as eager for it as I am.'

  'Then I advise you to marry Miss Smith, with my blessing. She is a pretty young woman with a very sweet nature and, moreover, she seemed to be very contented when I saw her at Abbey Mill Farm. I am sure you will be very happy together.'

  'Thank you, Mr Knightley,' he said, with a smile spreading across his face. 'She's the prettiest thing I've ever seen, and she has such a taking way with her. I'll be a lucky man if she'll have me.'

  And she will be a lucky girl when she marries you, I thought as he left the room.

  It is a very pleasing solution to the situation! Emma's influence has improved Harriet, and made her more worthy of such a good and solid man, and once Emma knows her friend is to marry Robert Martin, all her nonsensical thoughts regarding Elton will be nipped in the bud. Neither Elton nor Harriet need ever know of the fate she had arranged for them.

  Mrs Weston was right and I was wrong. I worried about nothing. This is a most happy conclusion to events.

  Saturday 5 December

  I cannot believe it was only yesterday that I was convinced a happy end was in view for Harriet: a poor girl, deposited in a school by unknown parents, to end up, not as an old maid, but as a happy and prosperous wife. And yet it has come to nothing. Because of Harriet? No, because of Emma! I have never been so out of charity with her in my life.

  I called on her and her father this morning and, as her father went out for a walk, I felt I could give her an intimation of the good fortune about to befall her friend. To my astonishment, if not to say anger, she informed me that she already knew of it, and that Harriet had refused him!

  I saw Emma's hand in it and, when challenged, it became clear that it was she who had been, not just a false advisor, but the principal in the affair.

  'Mr Martin is a very respectable young man,' she said coolly, 'but I cannot admit him to be Harriet's equal.'

  'Not her equal!' I exclaimed. 'No, he is not her equal indeed.' She could not see that Robert Martin was superior to Harriet in both sense and situation. 'It crossed my mind immediately that you would not regret your friend's leaving Highbury, for the sake of her being settled so well,' I went on. 'I remember saying to myself, "Even Emma, with all her partiality for Harriet, will think this a good match." '

  'I cannot help wondering at your knowing so little of Emma as to say any such thing,' she returned. 'What! think a farmer a good match for my intimate friend!'

  'You had no business making her your intimate friend,' I returned angrily.

  'You are not just to Harriet's claims,' she went on. 'Mr Martin may be the richer of the two, but he is undoubtedly the inferior as to rank in society. The sphere in which she moves is much above his. It would be a degradation.'

  A degradation! For Harriet Smith, an illegitimate girl, to marry respectable Robert Martin! Emma has never been so foolish. If only I could think it was her youth that was to blame, but she is not a child any more, she is a young woman. She should know better.

  ' 'Til you chose to turn her into a friend, her mind had no distaste for her own set, nor any ambition beyond it,' I said angrily. 'She was as happy as possible with the Martins in the summer. You have been no friend to Harriet Smith, Emma. Robert Martin would never have proceeded so far, unless he had had encouragement.'

  She did not reply, but I could see my words had given her pause. Good! It was a grave day's work, to separate two people who would have been happy together. And why? Because she thought Elton would offer for Harriet.

  I felt sorry for her. She was unaware of the damage she was doing, because she was too confident of her powers, and did not know that she still had a lot to learn. I was worried at how much damage she might do before she saw her mistake, and I felt I had to give her a word of warning.

  'As you make no secret of your love of matchmaking, it is fair to suppose that you have views, and plans, and projects, and as a friend I shall just hint to you that if Elton is the man, I think it will be all labour in vain.'

  'I have no idea of Harriet's marrying Mr Elton,' she returned.

  'Elton is a very good sort of man, and a very respectable vicar of Highbury, but not at all likely to make an imprudent match. He knows the value of a good income as well as anybody,' I said, to make sure she was under no illusions about him.

  She disclaimed all thoughts of such a match, but from her uncomfortable manner, I could tell that that was what she had been hoping for. Foolish girl! With no more than twenty summers, to try to counsel a girl of seventeen! Better to say nothing and let Mrs Goddard counsel Harriet, rather than apply her own influence so badly.

  I felt sorry I had encouraged Robert Martin to propose. If I had known he would meet with rejection, I would not have done so. And to think that Emma was the cause of such unhappiness!

  In an effort to put my ill-humour behind me I walked to Randalls. I hoped to see Weston as I had a matter of business to discuss with him, but he was not at home. Mrs Weston, however, bade me stay. Hardly had the tea been poured when Mrs Weston asked me what was the matter.

  'What is always the matter?' I said. 'Emma! I knew how it would be. She has turned Harriet's head. She has filled it with nonsense, and now the poor girl has turned down a perfectly unexceptionable offer of marriage in the hope of marrying Mr Elton.'

  'Mr Elton!' exclaimed Mrs Weston, astonished.

  'Absurd, is it not! As if Elton would look at a parlour boarder, an illegitimate girl with no name, no connections and no dowry. Misery will be the end of it all.'

  'Come, come,' said Mrs Weston. 'It surely cannot be as bad as that. If, as you say, Mr Elton will not look at Harriet--and I believe you are right--then Emma will soon see it.'

  'And what of Robert Martin?'

  She looked surprised, and I explained the whole. She was thoughtful, but then said: 'Mr Martin is a sensible man. If he truly loves Harriet, he will not be dete
rred by one setback.'

  I was not so sanguine.

  'A man has his pride,' I said. I drank my tea. 'If Emma could but meet someone who would interest her, she would forget all about Harriet Smith's prospects and start thinking about her own.'

  Mr Weston came in, and after the three of us had taken tea together, Mr Weston and I retired to his study to discuss some business we had in hand. When we had done, I began to ask him about his son.

  'Is there any news from Frank?' I asked.

  'We had another letter only yesterday. He is very desirous of paying us a visit, but his time is taken up by Mrs Churchill. She rules the household with an iron hand, governing her husband entirely, and governing Frank, too.'

  'So there is no news of his coming here yet?'

  'He keeps hoping it will be possible, but something always happens to put the visit off. He is such a favourite with Mrs Churchill that his time is not his own. But I hope to see him here before long.'

  Unfortunately, I doubt it. If Churchill cannot pay a visit to his father when his father marries, he must be a self-indulgent wastrel indeed, and I pity poor Weston his son.

  Sunday 6 December

  I saw Emma at church today, and we exchanged a few words. She remarked on my absence from Hartfield, and I told her I had been busy. She did not appear to have got over her schemes, for after the service she went to congratulate Elton, telling him how much Miss Smith had enjoyed it. Elton did not know where to look or what to think. Hah! A fine muddle they are making of it all.

  Tuesday 8 December

  I was glad to go to my whist club this evening. I had no inclination to go to Hartfield, and watch Emma make a fool of herself and her friend. Longridge was there, as well as Elton, Cole, Otway, Weston and the others.

  'And how are you liking Highbury?' I asked Longridge, as the cards were dealt.

  'Very much, thank you kindly. I have been thinking of leaving London for some time now--it has not been the same since my wife died--and Highbury seems a very agreeable place to settle. There is a deal of pretty countryside round about, some fine houses and superior company. I think I might settle here.'

  The game began, and we gave our attention to our cards.

  Afterwards, we discussed parish business, and I came home well-pleased with my evening. There is some sensible company in Highbury, at least.

  Wednesday 9 December

  It was a bright but frosty morning and my ride round the estate was invigorating. The avenues were looking particularly attractive, with their branches coated in frost. It is a time of year I particularly like.

  I noticed several things which needed attention, and I spoke to William Larkins about them. He wanted to postpone the work, as it was not urgent, but I wanted to have it done before Christmas.

  I do not want John to think I have been neglecting Henry's inheritance, for it seems more and more likely that I will leave the Abbey to my nephew.

  Thursday 10 December

  I still had no inclination to go to Hartfield today, and watch Emma making a fool of herself and her friend, so I was doubly pleased to accept an invitation from Graham.

  It was impossible to forget Emma, however, for no sooner had we sat down to dinner than Graham said: 'By the by, I have a charge for you all. I saw Perry this morning, and he told me that Miss Woodhouse and her young friend Miss Smith are making a collection of riddles. Mr Woodhouse is very interested in the collection, too, and has asked Perry to spread the news so that the young ladies might have some more riddles for their book.'

  The ladies were immediately interested, and Mr Longridge said: 'My wife had a very pretty hand, and made a riddle book many years ago. Let me see if I remember some of them. I have it:

  When my first is a task to a young girl of spirit

  And my second confines her to finish the labour--

  Tum-te-tum-te-tum-te-tum....

  Something about "she escapes." ' He went on reflectively:

  'When my first is a task to a young girl of spirit

  And my second confines her to finish the labour--'

  'No, not labour,' said Miss Bates, then looked flustered when all eyes turned to her. 'Oh, forgive me, Mr Longridge, it is just that I knew that riddle as a girl:

  When my first is a task to a young girl of spirit

  And my second confines her to finish the piece.

  How hard is her fate! But how great is her merit,

  If by taking my all she effects her release!'

  'Bless my soul! That was it!' said Mr Longridge, much struck. 'Now, what was the answer?'

  The table fell to musing, and Miss Bates supplied it: 'Hemlock!'

  There was a murmur of approval and congratulation from around the table, and Miss Bates went pink. It was good to see her triumph, for she does not have many opportunities to appear to such advantage.

  'You must give it to Miss Woodhouse the next time you see her,' said Graham, and Miss Bates promised she would.

  'So, have you decided whether you will settle in Highbury?' asked Graham of his friend Longridge when talk of riddles had died down.

  'Yes, I have made up my mind,' he said. 'There is such good company--I have not enjoyed an evening so much since my wife died. It will be an upheaval, mind, and I will have to find a house--'

  'We can help you with that,' said Mrs Cole.

  'Yes, indeed,' said Mrs Otway. 'There are many fine houses hereabouts. Three Chimneys will be available after Christmas. The Dawsons are going back to Cornwall.'

  'I thought they liked it here?' asked Mrs Weston, much struck.

  'So they did, but Mr Dawson's brother has died, and Mr Dawson has inherited a sizeable house on the coast.'

  There was much interest in this, but when it had been fully discussed, the conversation returned to the subject of Three Chimneys.

  'I heard the roof leaks,' said Mrs Cole.

  'Not at Three Chimneys. Barrowdown has the leaking roof, and anyhow, it is not available, as the Pringles have decided not to sell.'

  Two more houses were dismissed in short order, Low-reach because it was too small, and Melrose because it was damp, but at last the ladies had decided on a list of five properties he should arrange to see. They were keen for Longridge to visit them right away, but he said that he did not mean to look at anything before the New Year. That did not prevent the ladies from talking about it for the rest of the evening, however.

  Friday 11 December

  Robert Martin called on me today to discuss the farm. I did not mention his suit as I had no wish to embarrass him, but the subject was there in both our thoughts, and after our business was concluded he addressed it manfully. Simply, and with great nobility, he told me that his suit had not prospered. I offered my condolences and we parted with the subject finished.

  Robert Martin is my idea of a man. He does not shirk uncomfortable duties, but faces up to them. If Robert Martin was Frank Churchill, I am persuaded that he would have paid a visit to his new stepmother by now. He would have found time, even if he had had to travel overnight to do so. He is a sad loss to Harriet, whatever Emma thinks. He would have made her an estimable husband. And she would have made him, if not an estimable, then, at least, a pretty wife.

  With these thoughts in mind, I was again in no mood to walk to Hartfield after dinner. I looked over my accounts, and then read a book instead.

  Saturday 12 December

  I called on Miss Bates this morning on my way into Kingston, and assured myself that the logs had arrived. I found Graham there with his sister, Mrs Lovage, who had joined him again from Bath.

  I thought of what Weston had said, and I made sure I was no more than polite when greeting her, as I did not want to raise hopes that I had no intention of satisfying.

  After exchanging civilities, I was, however, heartened by something Mrs Lovage said.

  'I saw a young friend of yours yesterday. She is very good. She was taking relief to the poor.'

  'What young friend do you mean?'

/>   'I mean Miss Woodhouse, and Miss Smith was with her.'

  'Oh, yes, Miss Woodhouse is always so good,' said Miss Bates.

  'How did you come across her?' I asked.

  'I happened to be walking along Vicarage Lane and I passed them going in the opposite direction. Miss Woodhouse was walking along with a little girl from one of the cottages. The child was carrying a pitcher for soup, and Miss Woodhouse was bearing her company. I thought it very good of her, for it must have been much pleasanter for her if she had walked ahead with Miss Smith and Mr Elton.'

  'Mr Elton!' I exclaimed.

  'Such a good man,' said Miss Bates. 'Always so helpful!'

  'Yes,' said Mrs Lovage, smiling at Miss Bates. Then she turned again to me. 'Whether he had joined them in their charitable venture, or whether he had met them by chance, I do not know. He seemed very attentive. He slowed his pace as he tried to wait for Miss Woodhouse, but she remained behind with the child.'

  'Did she indeed?' I asked.

  My good humour left me. So Emma had still not abandoned her plan of throwing Harriet and Elton together. But perhaps I am misjudging her. Perhaps her charity had been prompted by a desire to do good, and not by a desire to show her friend in an amiable light.

  'And what of you, Mr Knightley? How have you been spending your time since I last visited Highbury?'

  'Looking after the Abbey,' I said.

  'You must have had some pleasure as well.'

  'Oh, yes, Mr Knightley, you must have some pleasure,' said Miss Bates. 'So good to everyone else, and never thinking of yourself.'

  'I think of myself a great deal. I have my whist and my visiting, and when I am at home I have my books. A man must be very hard to please if he wants more.'