Chapter: Human nature is so well disposed towards those who are in interesting
situations, that a young person, who either marries or dies, is sure of
being kindly spoken of.

A week had not passed since Miss Hawkins's name was first mentioned in
Highbury, before she was, by some means or other, discovered to have
every recommendation of person and mind; to be handsome, elegant, highly
accomplished, and perfectly amiable: and when Mr. Elton himself arrived
to triumph in his happy prospects, and circulate the fame of her merits,
there was very little more for him to do, than to tell her Christian
name, and say whose music she principally played.

Mr. Elton returned, a very happy man. He had gone away rejected and
mortified--disappointed in a very sanguine hope, after a series of what
appeared to him strong encouragement; and not only losing the right
lady, but finding himself debased to the level of a very wrong one. He
had gone away deeply offended--he came back engaged to another--and
to another as superior, of course, to the first, as under such
circumstances what is gained always is to what is lost. He came back gay
and self-satisfied, eager and busy, caring nothing for Miss Woodhouse,
and defying Miss Smith.

The charming Augusta Hawkins, in addition to all the usual advantages of
perfect beauty and merit, was in possession of an independent fortune,
of so many thousands as would always be called ten; a point of some
dignity, as well as some convenience: the story told well; he had not
thrown himself away--he had gained a woman of 10,000 l. or thereabouts;
and he had gained her with such delightful rapidity--the first hour of
introduction had been so very soon followed by distinguishing notice;
the history which he had to give Mrs. Cole of the rise and progress
of the affair was so glorious--the steps so quick, from the accidental
rencontre, to the dinner at Mr. Green's, and the party at Mrs.
Brown's--smiles and blushes rising in importance--with consciousness and
agitation richly scattered--the lady had been so easily impressed--so
sweetly disposed--had in short, to use a most intelligible phrase,
been so very ready to have him, that vanity and prudence were equally
contented.

He had caught both substance and shadow--both fortune and affection, and
was just the happy man he ought to be; talking only of himself and
his own concerns--expecting to be congratulated--ready to be laughed
at--and, with cordial, fearless smiles, now addressing all the young
ladies of the place, to whom, a few weeks ago, he would have been more
cautiously gallant.

The wedding was no distant event, as the parties had only themselves to
please, and nothing but the necessary preparations to wait for; and
when he set out for Bath again, there was a general expectation, which
a certain glance of Mrs. Cole's did not seem to contradict, that when he
next entered Highbury he would bring his bride.

During his present short stay, Emma had barely seen him; but just enough
to feel that the first meeting was over, and to give her the impression
of his not being improved by the mixture of pique and pretension, now
spread over his air. She was, in fact, beginning very much to wonder
that she had ever thought him pleasing at all; and his sight was so
inseparably connected with some very disagreeable feelings, that,
except in a moral light, as a penance, a lesson, a source of profitable
humiliation to her own mind, she would have been thankful to be assured
of never seeing him again. She wished him very well; but he gave
her pain, and his welfare twenty miles off would administer most
satisfaction.

The pain of his continued residence in Highbury, however, must
certainly be lessened by his marriage. Many vain solicitudes would be
prevented--many awkwardnesses smoothed by it. A _Mrs._ _Elton_ would
be an excuse for any change of intercourse; former intimacy might sink
without remark. It would be almost beginning their life of civility
again.

Of the lady, individually, Emma thought very little. She was good enough
for Mr. Elton, no doubt; accomplished enough for Highbury--handsome
enough--to look plain, probably, by Harriet's side. As to connexion,
there Emma was perfectly easy; persuaded, that after all his own vaunted
claims and disdain of Harriet, he had done nothing. On that article,
truth seemed attainable. _What_ she was, must be uncertain; but _who_
she was, might be found out; and setting aside the 10,000 l., it did not
appear that she was at all Harriet's superior. She brought no name, no
blood, no alliance. Miss Hawkins was the youngest of the two daughters
of a Bristol--merchant, of course, he must be called; but, as the whole
of the profits of his mercantile life appeared so very moderate, it
was not unfair to guess the dignity of his line of trade had been very
moderate also. Part of every winter she had been used to spend in Bath;
but Bristol was her home, the very heart of Bristol; for though the
father and mother had died some years ago, an uncle remained--in the law
line--nothing more distinctly honourable was hazarded of him, than
that he was in the law line; and with him the daughter had lived. Emma
guessed him to be the drudge of some attorney, and too stupid to rise.
And all the grandeur of the connexion seemed dependent on the elder
sister, who was _very_ _well_ _married_, to a gentleman in a _great_
_way_, near Bristol, who kept two carriages! That was the wind-up of the
history; that was the glory of Miss Hawkins.

Could she but have given Harriet her feelings about it all! She had
talked her into love; but, alas! she was not so easily to be talked out
of it. The charm of an object to occupy the many vacancies of Harriet's
mind was not to be talked away. He might be superseded by another; he
certainly would indeed; nothing could be clearer; even a Robert Martin
would have been sufficient; but nothing else, she feared, would cure
her. Harriet was one of those, who, having once begun, would be always
in love. And now, poor girl! she was considerably worse from this
reappearance of Mr. Elton. She was always having a glimpse of him
somewhere or other. Emma saw him only once; but two or three times every
day Harriet was sure _just_ to meet with him, or _just_ to miss him,
_just_ to hear his voice, or see his shoulder, _just_ to have something
occur to preserve him in her fancy, in all the favouring warmth of
surprize and conjecture. She was, moreover, perpetually hearing about
him; for, excepting when at Hartfield, she was always among those who
saw no fault in Mr. Elton, and found nothing so interesting as
the discussion of his concerns; and every report, therefore, every
guess--all that had already occurred, all that might occur in the
arrangement of his affairs, comprehending income, servants, and
furniture, was continually in agitation around her. Her regard was
receiving strength by invariable praise of him, and her regrets kept
alive, and feelings irritated by ceaseless repetitions of Miss
Hawkins's happiness, and continual observation of, how much he seemed
attached!--his air as he walked by the house--the very sitting of his
hat, being all in proof of how much he was in love!

Had it been allowable entertainment, had there been no pain to her
friend, or reproach to herself, in the waverings of Harriet's mind,
Emma would have been amused by its variations. Sometimes Mr. Elton
predominated, sometimes the Martins; and each was occasionally useful
as a check to the other. Mr. Elton's engagement had been the cure of
the agitation of meeting Mr. Martin. The unhappiness produced by the
knowledge of that engagement had been a little put aside by Elizabeth
Martin's calling at Mrs. Goddard's a few days afterwards. Harriet had
not been at home; but a note had been prepared and left for her, written
in the very style to touch; a small mixture of reproach, with a great
deal of kindness; and till Mr. Elton himself appeared, she had been much
occupied by it, continually pondering over what could be done in return,
and wishing to do more than she dared to confess. But Mr. Elton, in
person, had driven away all such cares. While he staid, the Martins were
forgotten; and on the very morning of his setting off for Bath again,
Emma, to dissipate some of the distress it occasioned, judged it best
for her to return Elizabeth Martin's visit.

How that visit was to be acknowledged--what would be necessary--and
what might be safest, had been a point of some doubtful consideration.
Absolute neglect of the mother and sisters, when invited to come, would
be ingratitude. It must not be: and yet the danger of a renewal of the
acquaintance--!

After much thinking, she could determine on nothing better, than
Harriet's returning the visit; but in a way that, if they had
understanding, should convince them that it was to be only a formal
acquaintance. She meant to take her in the carriage, leave her at the
Abbey Mill, while she drove a little farther, and call for her again
so soon, as to allow no time for insidious applications or dangerous
recurrences to the past, and give the most decided proof of what degree
of intimacy was chosen for the future.

She could think of nothing better: and though there was something in it
which her own heart could not approve--something of ingratitude, merely
glossed over--it must be done, or what would become of Harriet?

 Mr. Elton comes back to Highbury a happy man, and spreads the news about how charming and beautiful Augusta Hawkins is. The wedding is to be soon, and all expect that the next time Elton returns to Highbury he will bring his new wife with him. Emma barely sees him during this stay in Highbury. She thinks little of the soon-to-be Mrs. Elton, except to note that she brings some money to the marriage, but no name, no blood and no alliance. The entire grandeur of the match seems to be in that Miss Hawkins' sister had made a good match to a man near Bristol. If it did not cause Harriet pain, Emma could almost been amused at how easily she wavers between her anguish over Mr. Martin and Mr. Elton. Miss Martin calls on Harriet at Mrs. Goddard's and leaves a note when she does not find her there. Harriet wants to return the visit, and Emma decides that they will take the carriage and she will drop Harriet off at the Martin's for a short visit before she picks her up again. She will only allow her to be there a short time, so that there is no danger of a rekindling of the friendship between her and Mr. Martin

