"Impossible! I never can call you any thing but “Mr. Knightley”. I will not promise even to equal the elegant terseness of Mrs. Elton, by calling you Mr. K. But I will promise," she added presently, laughing and blushing, "I will promise to call you once by your Christian name. I do not say when, but perhaps you may guess where - in the building in which N. takes M. for better, for worse."
I am looking forward to that day. I can think of no greater happiness than having Emma as my wife.
Friday 23 July
Isabella has invited Harriet to stay on for another two weeks, so that she and John can bring her back to Highbury in their carriage when they visit us in August. I am glad. It means I will have Emma to myself, without her friend always being by.
Monday 26 July
I wrote to John of our engagement today. It will be a loss to his boys, there is no doubt about it. Little Henry will soon be replaced in his position of heir to Donwell Abbey, God willing. But John has always urged me to marry, and I do not think he will be displeased.
Tuesday 27 July
I have had a letter from John, congratulating me on my engagement. I showed it to Emma. It was brief, and wished me well.
Emma and I spoke again about when to tell her father the news. "I have resolved to do it this afternoon," she said.
"Do you want me with you?"
"No, I will do it better alone. Then, upon your arrival, you can add your assurances that it will be for the good of all."
"Very well. What time do you want me to call?"
"At four o"clock. I will have tea with Papa first, then tell him the news, and then I rely on you to add your cheer."
And so we agreed.
I arrived punctually at four o"clock, and found Mr. Woodhouse in a state of misery.
"Ah, Mr. Knightley, this is a sorry affair," he said, on greeting me.
Not many men can have been met with these words when they announced their engagement!
"What! A sorry affair! To have Mr. Knightley always with us!" said Emma rousingly. "Someone to write your letters, and attend to business, and give us diversion when we are low in spirits!"
"That is very true," he admitted.
"I count myself a lucky man to have won the hand of such a sweet, beautiful woman, for you know there is no one better than Emma in all the world," I said.
"Yes, that is so," he remarked, much struck. "No man ever had a better daughter, unless it was Isabella, who was so happy, here at Hartfield before she married. Poor Isabella!" he said, shaking his head. "Marriage is a dreadful thing."
"But not this one, Papa. This one will not be taking me anywhere," said Emma. "I will still live at Hartfield. And I will have Mr. Knightley here as well, as you will, Papa. It is quite a different matter from Isabella’s marriage."
He was at last brought round. He reminisced about Emma, and praised her many perfections.
I was not exasperated, as I used to be, when he spoke of them. Instead, I agreed with every one. And so, slowly, he became accustomed to the idea.
To the idea, but not the fact. That will take some time to accomplish. But at least we have made a start.
Wednesday 28 July
Weston called on me at the Abbey this morning, to offer his congratulations.
"Mrs. Weston and I could not be more delighted!" he said. "It is a wonder it did not occur to us before. It is the most suitable thing. Who else would have agreed to move to Hartfield? Who else would have been so understanding of Mr. Woodhouse? It is one of the things that concerned Anne and me, when we hoped Emma would marry Frank. Emma would have had to go to live in Yorkshire, and that would have been a sad thing indeed. But everything has turned out for the best, as I knew it would. We are not to lose Emma, and Anne and I are still to gain a beautiful daughter-in-law in Jane Fairfax. Two daughters in one year! I am truly blessed."
"And how is Anna?" I asked.
"Thriving. The joy of having a baby daughter! I hope you will soon know the same joy, Knightley. Anna is someone to brighten our lives, and to keep us lively as we grow old. I could not have wished for anything better. To think, I have a son and a daughter! And at my time of life! I am the most fortunate of men."
"I think you will have to fight me for that honour!" I said.
"Will you join us for dinner tomorrow night?" he asked. "Emma and her father are invited. Mrs.
Weston feels she may be of some assistance in reconciling Mr. Woodhouse to the marriage."
"Thank you, yes," I said. "I will be there."
Thursday 29 July
We dined at Randalls this evening, and Mrs. Weston was as great a help as she had meant to be.
"This is very good news," she said cheerfully to Mr. Woodhouse. "Mr. Knightley is just the person to take care of Emma, and of you. He is always so kind and considerate, and we all love him so dearly. It could not be a better arrangement."
"Ah, poor Miss Taylor, it would be so much better if you had never married. You always liked living at Hartfield with us," he said.
This was not encouraging, but she persevered.
"But if I had never married Mr. Weston, I would never have had Anna," she said, smiling at the baby on her knee. "You know you love her. See, she loves you, too, for she is smiling at you."
I could not see the smile, but Mrs. Weston and Emma were certain it was there. Mr. Woodhouse was very happy to believe it, and his cries of "Poor Miss Taylor!" and "Poor Emma!" soon subsided, to be replaced by cries of: "She is a pretty little thing."
"And she will have soon outgrown her first set of caps," Mrs. Weston said.
"I will have to make her some more," said Emma.
And so the evening passed, and by the end of it, I felt we had worn away the worst of Mr. Woodhouse’s resistance.
August
Monday 2 August
Robert Martin called to say he was going to town on business, and he asked if there was anything he could do for me whilst there. I asked him to take charge of some papers for John, which he took very readily.
Thursday 5 August
I was surprised to find Robert Martin at my door as soon as I had breakfasted this morning, but when I saw his face, I guessed what he would say.
He had delivered the papers to John, and had then been invited to join John’s party to Astley’s in the evening. He had accepted the invitation, and had gone with John, Isabella, Henry, little John - and Harriet.
"There was quite a crush, and on quitting our box at Astley’s, Mr. John Knightley took charge of his wife and younger boy, whilst I followed with Harriet and Henry. Harriet was uneasy. I gave her my arm, and steered her safely through the crowd," he told me.
By his recital of this small incident, I could guess what was coming, but I did not interrupt him. I was only too pleased to see him happy.
"Your brother asked me to dine with them the next day," he went on. "Very kind of him it was, and I accepted his invitation. In the course of the visit I had a chance of speaking to Harriet. I asked her to be my wife, Mr. Knightley," he told me, with a smile spreading across his face, "and she said yes."
I was delighted, and told him so, but I was pensive as I walked to Hartfield, not knowing how Emma would react to the news. I greeted her warmly, and then said: "I have something to tell you,
Emma; some news."
"Good or bad?" she asked.
"I do not know which it ought to be called."
For myself, I knew; and for Harriet and Mr. Martin; but for Emma? I did not know how she would regard it. I said as much, and then said: "It concerns Harriet Smith."
She flushed, but said nothing.