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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Volume two, chapter six. The next morning brought mister Frank
Churchill again. He came with Missus Weston, to whom and
to Highbury, he seemed to take very cordially. He had
been sitting with her, It appeared most companionably at home
till her usual hour of exercise, and on being desired
to choose their walk, immediately fixed on Highbury. He did
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not doubt their being very pleasant walks in every direction,
but if left to him, he should always choose the
same Highbury. That airy, cheerful, happy looking Highbury would be
his constant attraction. Highbury with Missus Weston stood for Hartfield,
and she trusted to its sparing the same construction with him.
They walked thither directly. Emma had hardly expected them, for
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mister Weston, who had called in for half a minute
in order to hear that his son was very handsome,
knew nothing of their plans, and it was an agreeable
surprise to her therefore to perceive them walking up to
the house together arm in arm. She was wanting to
see him again, and especially to see him in company
with Missus Weston, upon his behavior, to whom her opinion
of him was to depend if he were deficient there,
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nothing should make amends for it. But on seeing them together,
she became perfectly satisfied. It was not merely in fine
words or hyperbolical compliment that he paid his duty. Nothing
could be more proper or pleasing than his whole manner
to her. Nothing could more agreeably denote his wish of
considering her as a friend and securing her affection. And
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there was time enough for Emma to form a reasonable judgment,
as their visit included all the rest of the morning.
They were all three walking about together for an hour
or two, first round the shrubberies of Hartfield, and afterwards
in Highbury. He was delighted with everything, admired Hartfield sufficiently
for mister Woodhouse's ear, and when their going farther was resolved,
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on confessed his wish to be made acquainted with the
whole village, and found matter of commendation and interest much
oftener than Emma could have supposed. Some of the objects
of his curiosity spoke Barry Amy feelings. He begged to
be shown the house which his father had lived in
so long, and which had been the home of his
father's father, And on recollecting that an old woman who
had nursed him was still living, walked in quest of
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her cottage from one end of the street to the other,
and though in some points of pursuit or observation there
was no positive merit, they showed altogether a good will
towards Highbury in general, which must be very like a
merit to those he was with. Emma watched and decided
that with such feelings as were now shown, it could
not be fairly supposed that he had ever been voluntarily
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absenting himself, that he had not been acting a part
or making a parade of insincere professions, and that mister
Knightley certainly had not done him justice. Their first pause
was at the Crown Inn, an inconsiderable house, though the
principal one of the sort where a couple of pair
of post horses were kept more for the convenience of
the neighborhood than from any run on the road, and
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his companions had not expected to be detained by any
interest excited there. But in passing it they gave the
hist of the large room visibly added. It had been
built many years ago for a ball room, and while
the neighborhood had been in particularly populous dancing state had
been occasionally used as such, but such brilliant days had
long passed away, and now the highest purpose for which
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it was ever wanted was to accommodate a whist club
established among the gentlemen and half gentlemen of the place.
He was immediately interested. Its character as a ball room
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
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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 through the winter. Why
had not Miss Woodhouse revived the former good old days
of the room, She who could do anything in Highbury?
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The want of proper families in the place, and the
conviction that none beyond the place in its immediate environs
could be tempted to attend or mentioned. But he was
not satisfied. He could not be persuaded that so many
good looking houses as he saw around them could not
furnish numbers enough for such a meeting, And even when
particulars were given and families described, he was still unwilling
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to admit that the inconvenience of such a mixture would
be anything, or that there would be the smallest difficulty
in everybody's returning to their proper place. The next morning,
he argued like a young man very much bent on dancing,
and Emma was rather surprised to see the constitution of
the Weston prevail so decidedly against the habits of the Churchills.
He seemed to have all the life and spirit, cheerful feelings,
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and social inclinations of his father, and nothing of the
pride or reserve of Enscombe. Of pride, indeed, there was,
perhaps scarcely enough. His indifference to a confusion of rank
bordered too much on inelegance of mind. He could be
no judge, however, of the evil he was holding cheap.
It was but an effusion of lively spirits. At last,
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he was persuaded to move on from the front of
the Crown, and, being now almost facing the house where
the Bates is lodged, Emma recollected his intended visit the
day before, and asked him if he had paid it. Yes, oh, yes,
he replied, I was just going to mention it a
very successful visit. I saw all the three ladies and
felt very much obliged to you for your preparatory hint.
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If the talking aunt had taken me quite by surprise,
it must have been the death of me. As it was,
I was only betrayed into paying a most unreasonable visit.
Ten minutes would have been all that was necessary, perhaps
all that was proper. And I had told my father
I should certainly be home before him, But there was
no getting away, no pause, And to my utter astonishment
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I found, when he, finding me nowhere else joined me
there at last that I had actually been sitting with
them very nearly three quarters of an hour. The good
lady had not given me the possibility of escape before.
And how did you think Miss Fairfax looking ill? Very ill?
That is, if a young lady can ever be allowed
to look ill? But the expression is hardly admissible, missus Weston,
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is it? Ladies can never look ill? And seriously, Miss
Fairfax is naturally so pale as almost always to give
the appearance of ill health a most deplorable want of complexion.
Emma would not agree to this, and began a warm
defense of Miss Fairfax's complexion. It was certainly never brilliant,
but she would not allow it to have a sickly
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hue in general, and there was a softness and delicacy
in her skin which gave peculiar elegance to the character
of her face. He listened with all due deference, acknowledged
that he had heard many people say the same. But
yet he must confess that to him nothing could make
amends for the want of the fine glow of health.
Where features were indifferent, a fine complexion gave beauty to
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them all, and where they were good, the effect was Fortunately,
he need not attempt to describe what the effect was. Well,
said Emma, there is no disputing about taste. At least
you admire her except her complexion. He shook his head
and laughed. I cannot separate Miss Fairfax and her complexion.
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Did you see her often at Weymouth? Were you often
in the same society? At this moment, they were approaching Fords,
and he hastily exclaimed, ha, this must be the very
shop that everybody attends every day of their lives. As
my father informs me. He comes to Highbury himself. He says,
six days out of the seven, and as always, business
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at Ford's. If it be not inconvenient to you, pray
let us go in that I may prove myself to
belong to the place, to be a true citizen of Highbury.
I must buy something at Ford's. It will be taking
out my freedom. I daresay they sell gloves. Oh yes,
gloves and everything. I do admire your patriotism. You will
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be adored in Highbury. You were very popular before you
came because you were mister Western's son. But lay out
half a guinea at four and your popularity will stand
upon your own virtues. They went in, and while the sleek,
well tied parcels of Men's beavers and York tan were
bringing down and displaying on the counter, he said, but
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I beg your pardon, Miss Woodhouse. You were speaking to me.
You were saying something at the very moment of this
burst of my amou patrie. Do not let me lose it.
I assure you, the utmost stretch of public fame would
not make me amends for the loss of any happiness
in private life. I merely asked whether you had known
much of Miss Fairfax and her party at Weymouth, And
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now that I understand your question, I must pronounce it
to be a very unfair one. It is always the
lady's right to decide on the degree of acquaintance. Miss
Fairfax must have already given her account. I shall not
commit myself by claiming more than she may choose to allow.
Upon my word, you answer as discreetly as she could
do herself. But her account of everything leaves so much
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to be guessed. She is so very reserved, so very
unwilling to give the least information about anybody that I
really think. You may say what you like of your
acquaintance with her, may I indeed? Then I will speak
the truth? And nothing suits me so well. I met
her frequently at Weymouth. I had known the Campbells a
little in town, and at Weymouth we were very much
in the same set. Colonel Campbell is a very agreeable man,
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and missus Campbell a friendly, warm hearted woman. I like
them all. You know Miss Fairfax's situation in life, I
conclude what she is destined to be. Yes, rather hesitatingly,
I believe I do you get upon delicate subjects Emma,
said missus western, smiling, Remember that I am here. Mister
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Frank Churchill hardly knows what to say when you speak
of miss Fairfax's situation in life. I will move a
little farther off. I certainly do forget to think of her,
said Emma, as having ever been but anything but my
friend and my dearest friend. He looked as if he
fully understood and honor such a sentiment. When the gloves
were bought and they had quitted the sharp again, did
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you ever hear the young lady we were speaking of play?
Said Frank Churchill. Ever hear her? Repeated Emma, you forget
how much she belongs to Highbury. I have heard her
every year of our lives, since we both began. She
plays charmingly. You think so, do you. I wanted the
opinion of some one who could really judge. She appeared
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to me to play well, that is, with considerable taste.
But I know nothing of the matter myself. I am
excessively fond of music, but without the smallest skill or
rite of judging of anybody's performance. I have been used
to hear hers admired, and I remember one proof of
her being thought to play well a man, a very
musical man, and in love with another woman engaged to
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her on the point of marriage, would yet never ask
that other woman to sit down to the instrument if
the lady in question could sit down instead, never seemed
to like to hear one if he could hear the other.
That I thought in a man of known musical talent
was some proof proof indeed, said Emma, highly amused. Mister
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Dixon is very musical, is he. We shall know more
about them all in half an hour from you than
Miss Fairfax would have vouchsafed in half a year. Yes,
mister Dixon and miss Campbell were the person's and I
thought it a very strong proof. Suddenly very strong it
was to own the truth, a great deal stronger than
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if I had been Miss Campbell would have been at
all agreeable to me. I could not excuse a man's
having more music than love, more ear than I, a
more acute sensibility to find sounds than to my feelings.
How did miss Campbell appear to like it? It was
a very particular friend, you know, poor comfort, said Emma, laughing.
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One would rather have a stranger preferred than one's very
particular friend with a stranger. It might not recur again,
but the miss of having a very particular friend always
at hand to do everything better than one does oneself.
Poor missus Dixon, Well, I am glad she is gone
to settle in Ireland. You are right, it was not
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very flattering to miss Campbell. But really she did not
seem to feel it so much the better or so
much the worse. I do not know which. But be
it sweetness, or be it stupidity in her quickness of
friendship or dullness of feeling. There was one person, I
think who must have felt it, Miss Fairfax herself. She
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must have felt the improper and dangerous distinction. As to
that I do not, Oh, do not imagine that I
expect an account of Miss Fairfax's sensations from you or
from anybody else. They are known to no human being,
I guess, but herself. But if she continued to play
whenever she was asked by mister Dixon, one may guess
what one chooses. There appeared such a perfectly good understanding
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among them all, he began rather quickly, but checking himself, added, however,
it is impossible for me to say on what terms
they really were. How it might be all behind the scenes.
I can only say that there was smoothness outwardly. But
you who have known Miss Fairfax from a child, must
be a better judge of her character and of how
she is likely to conduct herself in critical situations than
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I can be. I have known her from a child.
Undoubtedly we have been children and women together, and it
is natural to suppose that we should be intimate, that
we should have taken to each other whenever she visited
her friends. But we never did. I hardly know how
it has happened, a little perhaps from that wickedness on
my side, which was prone to take disgust towards a
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girl so idolized and so cried up as she always
was by her aunt and grandmother and all their set,
and then her reserve. I never could attach myself to
any one so completely reserved. It is a most repulsive quality, indeed,
said he. Oftentimes very convenient, no doubt, but never pleasing.
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There is safety in reserve, but no attraction. One cannot
love a reserved person not till the reserve ceases towards
one's self, and then the attraction may be the greater.
But I must be more in want of a friend,
or an agreeable companion than I have yet been to
take the trouble of conquering anybody's reserve to procure one.
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Intimacy between Miss Fairfax and me is quite out of
the question. I have no reason to think ill of her,
not the least except that such extreme and perpetual cautiousness
of word and manner, such a dread of giving a
distinct idea about anybody, is apt to suggest of their
being something to conceal. He perfectly agreed with her, and
after walking together so long and thinking so much alike,
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Emma felt herself so well acquainted with him that she
could hardly believe it to be only their second meeting.
He was not exactly what she had expected, less of
the man of the world in some of his notions,
less of the boiled child of fortune. Therefore, better than
she had expected, his ideas seemed more moderate, his feelings warmer.
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She was particularly struck by his manner of considering mister
Elton's house, which, as well as the church, he would
go and look at, and would not join them in
finding much fault with. No. He could not believe it
a bad house, not such a house as a man
was to be pitied for having, if it were to
be shared with the woman he loved. He could not
think any man to be pitied for having that house.
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There must be ample room in it for every real comfort.
The man must be a blockhead who wanted more. Missus
Weston laughed and said he did not know what he
was talking about. Used only to a large house himself,
and without ever thinking how many advantages and accommodations were
attached to its size, he could be no judge of
the privations inevitably belonging to a small one. But Emma,
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in her own mind determined that he did know what
he was talking about, and that he showed a very
amiable inclination to settle early in life and to marry
from worthy moment. He might not be aware of the
inroads on domestic peace to be occasioned by no housekeeper's
room or a bad butler's pantry, but no doubt he
did perfectly feel that Enscombe could not make him happy,
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and that whenever he were attached, he would willingly give
up much of wealth to be allowed an early establishment.
End of Chapter six