Emma

of what is your duty, an attention to propriety, an endeavour
to avoid the suspicions of others, to save your health and credit,
and restore your tranquillity.  These are the motives which I
have been pressing on you.  They are very important--and sorry
I am that you cannot feel them sufficiently to act upon them.
My being saved from pain is a very secondary consideration.  I want
you to save yourself from greater pain.  Perhaps I may sometimes
have felt that Harriet would not forget what was due--or rather
what would be kind by me."

This appeal to her affections did more than all the rest.
The idea of wanting gratitude and consideration for Miss Woodhouse,
whom she really loved extremely, made her wretched for a while,
and when the violence of grief was comforted away, still remained
powerful enough to prompt to what was right and support her in it
very tolerably.

"You, who have been the best friend I ever had in my life--
Want gratitude to you!--Nobody is equal to you!--I care for nobody
as I do for you!--Oh!  Miss Woodhouse, how ungrateful I have been!"

Such expressions, assisted as they were by every thing that look
and manner could do, made Emma feel that she had never loved Harriet
so well, nor valued her affection so highly before.

"There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart," said she
afterwards to herself.  "There is nothing to be compared to it.
Warmth and tenderness of heart, with an affectionate, open manner,
will beat all the clearness of head in the world, for attraction,
I am sure it will.  It is tenderness of heart which makes my dear
father so generally beloved--which gives Isabella all her popularity.--
I have it not--but I know how to prize and respect it.--Harriet is
my superior in all the charm and all the felicity it gives.
Dear Harriet!--I would not change you for the clearest-headed,
longest-sighted, best-judging female breathing.  Oh! the coldness
of a Jane Fairfax!--Harriet is worth a hundred such--And for a wife--
a sensible man's wife--it is invaluable.  I mention no names;
but happy the man who changes Emma for Harriet!"



CHAPTER XIV


Mrs. Elton was first seen at church:  but though devotion might
be interrupted, curiosity could not be satisfied by a bride in a pew,
and it must be left for the visits in form which were then to be paid,
to settle whether she were very pretty indeed, or only rather pretty,
or not pretty at all.

Emma had feelings, less of curiosity than of pride or propriety,
to make her resolve on not being the last to pay her respects;
and she made a point of Harriet's going with her, that the worst of
the business might be gone through as soon as possible.

She could not enter the house again, could not be in the same room
to which she had with such vain artifice retreated three months ago,
to lace up her boot, without _recollecting_.  A thousand vexatious
thoughts would recur.  Compliments, charades, and horrible blunders;
and it was not to be supposed that poor Harriet should not be
recollecting too; but she behaved very well, and was only rather
pale and silent.  The visit was of course short; and there was so
much embarrassment and occupation of mind to shorten it, that Emma
would not allow herself entirely to form an opinion of the lady,
and on no account to give one, beyond the nothing-meaning terms
of being "elegantly dressed, and very pleasing."

She did not really like her.  She would not be in a hurry to find fault,
but she suspected that there was no elegance;--ease, but not elegance.--
She was almost sure that for a young woman, a stranger, a bride,
there was too much ease.  Her person was rather good; her face
not unpretty; but neither feature, nor air, nor voice, nor manner,
were elegant.  Emma thought at least it would turn out so.

As for Mr. Elton, his manners did not appear--but no, she would
not permit a hasty or a witty word from herself about his manners.
It was an awkward ceremony at any time to be receiving wedding visits,
and a man had need be all grace to acquit himself well through it.
The woman was better off; she might have the assistance of fine clothes,
and the privilege of bashfulness, but the man had only his own
good sense to depend on; and when she considered how peculiarly
unlucky poor Mr. Elton was in being in the same room at once with
the woman he had just married, the woman he had wanted to marry,
and the woman whom he had been expected to marry, she must allow him
to have the right to look as little wise, and to be as much affectedly,
and as little really easy as could be.

"Well, Miss Woodhouse," said Harriet, when they had quitted
the house, and after waiting in vain for her friend to begin;
"Well, Miss Woodhouse, (with a gentle sigh,) what do you think of her?--
Is not she very charming?"

There was a little hesitation in Emma's answer.

"Oh! yes--very--a very pleasing young woman."

"I think her beautiful, quite beautiful."

"Very nicely dressed, indeed; a remarkably elegant gown."