Unexpected Friends & Relations

by Jayne Bamber

“Ill, very ill – that is, if a young lady can ever be allowed to look ill. But the expression is hardly admissible, is it, Miss Bennet? Ladies can never look ill. And seriously, Miss Fairfax is so naturally pale, as almost always to give the appearance of ill health. A most deplorable want of complexion.”

  Mary looked rather put out with Mr. Parker’s amusing observation, and moved away to speak with Miss Fairfax, who was at that moment approaching John and the children.

  Mr. Parker watched Mary walk away, and spared one slight glance back at Jane Fairfax before offering Emma his arm, and asking if she would walk with him, for he had yet to fully explore the village.

  Their first pause was at the Crown Inn, an inconsiderable house, though the principal one of the sort, and Emma had not expected to be detained by any interest excited there, but in passing she gave the history of the large room visibly added. It had been built many years ago for a ballroom, and while the neighborhood had been in a particularly populous, dancing state, it had occasionally been used as such. Such brilliant days has long since passed away, and now the highest purpose for which it was ever wanted was to accommodate a whist club established among the gentlemen and half-gentlemen of Highbury.

  Mr. Churchill, who followed closely behind them with Rebecca on his arm, was immediately interested. Its character as a ballroom caught him, and instead of passing on, he stopped for several minutes at the two superior sashed windows which were open, to look in and contemplate its capabilities, and lament that its original purpose should have ceased. He saw no fault in the room, he would acknowledge none which they suggested. No, it was long enough, broad enough, handsome enough. It would hold the very number for comfort. They ought to have balls there at least every fortnight in the spring – why had Emma not thought to revive the former good old days of the room? She who could do anything in Highbury!

  Mr. Parker was quick to take up his friend’s cause. The want of proper families in the place, and the conviction that few might be tempted to attend were mentioned, but he was not satisfied. He could not be persuaded that Highbury could not furnish numbers enough for such a gathering, and even when particulars were given and families described, he was still unwilling to admit that there would be the smallest difficulty in arranging a ball for the young people of the village. He argued like a young man very much bent on dancing, and insisted that he had organized a great many such events in Sanditon.

  Despite her belief that such a thing could not be possible in Highbury, Emma was intrigued by the prospect of it, and found the support of her cousin Rebecca, as well. “I think it a sensational plan,” Rebecca agreed. “Only let us have no more talk of Sanditon,” she chided Mr. Parker. “Let us talk of Highbury, and the possibilities to be found here. Mr. Churchill, if only your father was here – I am certain he should be delighted by such a plan, and know just how to arrange everything.”

  They had walked some distance beyond Miss Bates’ front door, but John and the children, still chatting happily with Jane Fairfax, soon caught them up. “Mr. Knightley, Miss Fairfax,” Mr. Parker cried, “what say you to a ball, here at the Crown?”

  John grimaced. “A ball? Certainly not. I am sure the Crown is far too small to support a ball – where would the supper go? No indeed, I think it a very bad plan – certainly no one should wish to attend. I am surprised you should think of such a thing at all!”

  Rebecca made a droll face at him, and repeated the question to Miss Fairfax, who smiled shyly before admitting that she rather liked the notion. “I am sure I should attend, if it were to occur on one of my Highbury days, and not one of my Hartfield days.”

  “And so it shall,” Mr. Churchill eagerly agreed. “My father and I, and Mr. Parker, are to mastermind the entire plan – I will speak to my stepmother about it directly, for I am sure I can sway her to our side as well.”

  John muttered something disagreeable about Mr. Churchill having already swayed half of Highbury to his side, but the younger gentlemen appeared not to notice. More decidedly, John indicated that he should be taking the children into Ford’s now, and would meet with them all at home once they had done with their folly. Jane Fairfax bid them all good day, and Mr. Churchill proposed that they return to Randalls directly to acquaint the Westons with their scheme.

  The notion of a ball at the Crown was discussed at length that afternoon at Randalls, and occupied Emma’s thoughts for most of the evening besides. There had been a decided lack of society in Highbury, even before the death of her father and sister, and Emma felt herself presently past her grief enough to be ready for a greater share of amusement. An evening of dancing with two handsome young men, both so eager to make themselves agreeable to her, held more appeal than she would admit to her cousin Rebecca, who had certainly come to her own conclusions already – she was determined the ball was a compliment to Emma.

  Mary was significantly less amused by the idea of a ball, knowing she was likely to be gone from Highbury before it could be arranged, and despite Rebecca’s attempts to dissuade her from going to Kent, Mary declared that the ball at the Crown must be a fine thing for them, but would not tempt her to refuse her sister’s invitation. John thought the entire thing a great folly, and after dinner the subject was dropped.

  ***

  The next day, a new subject was introduced, which could only vex Emma. The Coles had been settled some years in Highbury, and were very good sort of people – friendly, liberal, and unpretending; but, on the other hand, they were of low origin, in trade, and only moderately genteel. On their first coming into the country, they had lived in proportion to their income, quietly, keeping little company, but the last year or two had brought them a considerable increase of means – fortune had smiled upon them. With their wealth, their views increased; their want of a larger house, their inclination for more company. They added to their house, to their number of servants, to their expenses of every sort, and by this time were, in fortune and style of living, second only to the family at Hartfield. Their love of society, and their new dining room, prepared everybody for their keeping dinner company; and a few parties had already taken place. The best families Emma could hardly suppose they would presume to invite – neither Donwell, nor Hartfield, nor Randalls. Nothing should tempt her to go, if they did invite her, and she regretted that her being in mourning would give her refusal less meaning than she could wish. The Coles were very respectable in their way, but they ought to be taught that it was not for them to arrange the terms on which the superior families would visit them. This lesson, she very much feared they would receive only from herself; she had little hope of Mr. Knightley, none of Mr. Weston.

  She had made up her mind how to meet this presumption long before it appeared, and when the insult came at last, it found her very differently affected. Donwell and Randalls had received their invitation, and none had come for Hartfield. Emma was horrified to learn of it from Mr. Knightley, who had come to visit, and was leaning idly against the wall, teasing Rebecca by pretending to attempt to look over the letter she was composing to her sister-in-law.

  “I suppose they do not take the liberty with you,” said he. “They know you should never accept – you have admitted as much yourself.”

  Seated beside her, Mary attempted to conceal a smirk, and Emma gave a huff of exasperation. “That is hardly my point,” she cried.

  Mr. Knightley nudged Rebecca, and though she tossed down her pen with no little annoyance, the two exchanged a look of mirth. “You are bothered that they have denied you the right of refusal,” he observed.

  “It is a pity,” said Rebecca. “I heard of it from Mr. Churchill only yesterday – he is to arrange the music for them. I am sure all of our friends in Highbury shall be attending, and perhaps Emma might have been tempted to accept. Even the Bateses are going, for Mrs. Cole has planned around Jane Fairfax’s routine of taking two days to herself – I think it very thoughtful of them to have taken such a thing into consideration.”

  Mr. Knightley made a trium
phant gesture at Emma, brought on by Rebecca’s apparent approval of the Coles, and Emma grew only more cross. “I think it a very ill thing,” she snapped.

  Rebecca scribbled a few more sentences to complete her letter. The ink was blown dry, the direction inscribed, and as she rang for a servant to post her letter, she observed, “I am sure I would attend – perhaps I might be Mr. Knightley’s guest. I see nothing amiss with mingling amongst tradespeople. I am sure some of my dearest friends are of such origins – Sir Bertrand Banfield was once in trade, and he gives some of the best parties in all of London. Even Mary’s aunt and uncle, the Gardiners, are still actively engaged in trade, and I love them so very dearly.”

  Mary regarded Rebecca warmly, as did Mr. Knightley. “I knew you would think so sensibly,” said he. “I shall certainly send my carriage round for you on Monday.”

  When the footman came in to carry away Rebecca’s letter to Lady Hartley, which contained, by Emma’s request, a warm greeting for her cousin Richard’s bride, the day’s post was brought in as well. To Emma’s surprise, it contained the very thing to vex her most – a note from the Coles. She opened it eagerly, and read it over in a moment. To the expectant looks of her friends she replied, “It is an invitation from the Coles.” Attempting to repress a grin of no little satisfaction, she said, “It says here they had hesitated to send their invitation round sooner, before I went down to half-mourning – they were waiting for me to be in a position to accept.”

  “There now,” Mr. Knightley said. “It is just the sort of kind and unassuming behavior I would have expected of them. Very thoughtful indeed!”

  He and Rebecca exchanged another look of private hilarity, and Rebecca next observed, “But you must wish to make your refusal directly – here, come and take my seat at the escritoire.” Rebecca stood and paced to the other side of Mr. Knightley, exchanging such knowing looks with him that Emma knew they must anticipate what would come next.

  She began to hesitate. “It was very thoughtful of them,” Emma began to agree. “And if Lady Rebecca Fitzwilliam can attend their little gathering, and all of my friends, certainly I can see no harm in going myself. It might send the wrong message – that I do not intend to go down to half-mourning at all – and then it would look stranger still when I attend the ball at the Crown.”

  Rebecca laughed gleefully. “How quickly she convinces herself! But I am glad to find you so persuadable – I should not like to attend without you. I can think of some others, as well, who would be rather disappointed by your absence – Mrs. Weston, of course, and perhaps her entire household.”

  “What shall disappoint me?” Mrs. Weston swept into the room on her stepson’s arm, a teasing look already upon her countenance.

  “Emma has been weighing the consequences of either accepting or declining the Coles’ invitation to dinner,” Rebecca remarked.

  “But of course you must go,” Mr. Churchill cried. “I should take it very hard, very hard indeed, if you were to decline, Miss Woodhouse. I am arranging the music myself, you know – I am sure I mentioned it to your cousin just yesterday – I know you are said to be one of the finest players in the county, and I am sure my heart would be quite broken if I could not hear you.”

  As Mr. Churchill quickly attached himself to Emma, who resumed her seat beside Mary on the sofa, Mrs. Weston addressed herself to Rebecca, though Emma happened to overhear her reply, “When you spoke of disappointment, I took you to mean Mr. Parker’s going to London to have his hair cut.”

  Only half-attending Mr. Churchill’s conversation, Emma positioned herself to better hear Mrs. Weston inform Rebecca and Mr. Knightley that Mr. Parker seemed to have been seized by a sudden impulse at breakfast, and had sent for a chaise and set off, intending to return at dinner, with no more important a view than to have his hair cut. There was certainly no harm in his traveling sixteen miles on such an errand, but Emma thought that there was such an air of foppery and nonsense in it which she could not approve, and her good opinion of the man was a little shaken.

  Rebecca laughed, and Mr. Knightley was heard only to speak the words ‘vanity’ and ‘extravagance’ and ‘silly, trifling fellow’ – Emma could hear no more of it, before Mr. Churchill broached the subject himself, pleasing both Emma and Mary by observing that certainly he should never embark on such a fanciful undertaking. “I am sure my father should call me quite a coxcomb,” said he. “Mrs. Weston would certainly not like it, though it would perhaps make an amusing story.”

  Content with the company of only one of her two new friends – admirers, Rebecca would call them – Emma enjoyed the notion that Frank Churchill, the man she had long held such a fascination for, was by far the more sensible of the two, and perfectly ready to offer her another half hour of amiable conversation before going away.

  17

  Surrey, April

  Sidney Parker came back; he had his haircut, and laughed at himself with very good grace, but without seeming really at all ashamed of what he had done. He had no reason to wish his hair longer, no reason to wish the money unspent, to improve his spirits. He was quite as undaunted and lively as ever, and after seeing him, Emma was obliged to moralize to Rebecca.

  “I do not know whether it ought to be so, but certainly silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way. Wickedness is always wickedness, but folly is not always folly. It depends upon the character of those who handle it,” Emma told her cousin.

  “Pah! I know his character better than you,” Rebecca replied. “He is a confirmed coxcomb in my mind, and ever shall be!”

  With Monday came the agreeable prospect of seeing him again, and Mr. Churchill as well, and of judging the manners of both gentlemen in a larger group of company, both generally and toward herself. Emma intended to determine how soon it might be necessary for her to throw some coldness into her air, lest either gentleman mistake her degree of interest in them; she would judge by observing the fancy of the rest of their party, some of whom were seeing her with them for the first time.

  She meant to be very happy, despite the scene being laid at the Coles’, and had much reason to be satisfied. She was received with a cordial respect which could not but please, and given all the consequence she could wish for. Emma was seated at dinner between Mr. Parker and Mr. Churchill, and not without, she suspected, some dexterity on their part.

  She remained their first object throughout the night, but was determined to enjoy the society of everyone, and not let her attention be so monopolized by the gentlemen, lest she arouse suspicions of being more tenderly attached to one of them than she would wish to make known.

  In truth, she liked them both. She had held an attraction to Mr. Churchill long before ever setting eyes on him, and through Mr. Parker’s marked attempts to recommend himself to her above everyone, become so acquainted with him as to hold him in almost equal regard, despite Rebecca’s many admonishments.

  At dinner, she happened to hear a conversation between Mrs. Weston and Mrs. Cole, who had reason to believe that Jane Fairfax had an admirer. Mrs. Cole was telling Mrs. Weston that she had called on Miss Bates, and as soon as she entered the room had been soon followed by the arrival of a most unexpected courier, bearing a small gift for Jane – the substance of the story was that it was a necklace, from Mr. Gray’s shop in Sackville Street, a prominent London jeweler, and Jane had been the most astonished recipient of a very fine silver chain with a small diamond in the shape of a heart – she was wearing it even now.

  “Both niece and aunt were thoroughly surprised,” Mrs. Cole said, “and Jane herself was so touched by the gift that she was nearly brought to tears by it – ere long, of course, they began to conclude that it must have come from Colonel Campbell, who has always been so very fond of her.”

  As Emma listened to the telling of it, Mr. Parker presently addressed her. “Why do you smile?”

  Emma laughed a little. “Nay, why do you?”

  “I smile because you sm
ile,” said he.

  “And I smile because I am happy that Miss Fairfax has received such a charming present.”

  Mr. Parker smirked at her. “From Colonel Campbell.”

  “You may say what you choose,” Emma replied, “but your countenance testifies that your thoughts on the subject are very much like mine.”

  Mr. Parker grinned at her. “I rather believe you are giving me more credit for acuteness than I deserve. I may suspect whatever I find you suspect, but at present I do not see what there is to question. If Colonel Campbell is not the person to give her such a gift, who can be?”

  Emma leaned in closer to him; his shared dislike of Jane Fairfax really beginning to endear him to herself. “What do you say to Miss Campbell – Mrs. Dixon, as she may be, by now.”

  “I believe she is Mrs. Dixon by now. But yes – the mystery, the surprise of it is more like a woman would do – and I told you that your suspicions would guide mine. They have long been childhood friends. Yes, it must have been a gift from Mrs. Dixon, I daresay.”

  “If so,” Emma said with a private laugh all for Mr. Parker, “you must begin to expand your suspicions to include Mr. Dixon.”

  “Mr. Dixon. Yes, I immediately perceive that it must be the joint present of Mr. and Mrs. Dixon. We were speaking the other day, you know, of him being a warm admirer of her performance on the pianoforte.”

  “Yes, and what you told me on that score confirmed an idea which I had entertained before. I cannot help but suspect that, after making his proposals to her friend, Mr. Dixon had the misfortune to fall in love with her, or perhaps became conscious of a little attachment on her side. One might guess twenty things without guessing exactly correct, but I am sure there must be a particular cause for her choosing to come to Highbury instead of going with the Campbells to Ireland. Here, she has become governess to my own family, while had she gone to Ireland it would be all enjoyment. I do not require you to adopt all my suspicions, though you make so noble a profession of doing it....”