Mrs John Knightley was a pretty,elegant little woman,of gentle,quiet manners,and a disposition remarkably amiable and affectionate,wrapped up in her family,a devoted wife,a doting mother,and so tenderly attached to her father and sister that,but for these higher ties,a warmer love might have seemed impossible.She could never see a fault in any of them.She was not a woman of strong understanding,or any quickness;and with this resemblance of her father,she inherited also much of his constitution;was delicate in her own health,over careful of that of her children,had many fears,and many nerves,and was as fond of her own Mr Wingfield in town as her father could be of Mr Perry.They were alike,too,in a general benevolence of temper,and a strong habit of regard for every old acquaintance.Mr John Knightley was a tall,gentlemanlike,and very clever man,rising in his profession;domestic and respectable in his private character;but with reserved manners which prevented him being generally pleasing;and capable of being sometimes out of humour.He was not an ill-tempered man,not so often unreasonably cross as to deserve such a reproach;but his temper was not his great perfection;and,indeed,with such a worshipping wife,it was hardly possible that any natural defects in it should not be increased.The extreme sweetness of her temper must hurt his.He had all the clearness and quickness of mind which she wanted;and he could sometimes act an ungracious,or say a severe thing.He was not a great favourite with his fair sister-in-law.Nothing wrong in him escaped her.She was quick in feeling the little injuries to Isabella,which Isabella never felt herself.Perhaps she might have passed over more had his manners been flattering to Isabella's sister,but they were only those of a calmly kind brother and friend,without praise and without blindness;but hardly any degree of personal compliment could have made her regardless of that greatest fault of all in her eyes which he sometimes fell into,the want of respectful forbearance towards her father.There he had not always the patience that could have been wished.Mr Woodhouse's peculiarities and fidgetiness were sometimes provoking him to a rational remonstrance or sharp retort equally ill-bestowed.It did not often happen;for Mr John Knightley had really a great regard for his father-in-law,and generally a strong sense of what was due to him:but it was too often for Emma's charity,especially as there was all the pain of apprehension frequently to be endured,though the offence came not.The beginning,however,of every visit displayed none but the properest feelings,and this being of necessity so short might be hoped to pass away in unsullied cordiality.They had not been long seated and composed when Mr Woodhouse,with a melancholy shake of the head and a sigh,called his daughter's attention to the sad change at Hartfield since she had been there last.
‘Ah,my dear,’said he,‘poor Miss Taylor!It is a grievous business.’
‘Oh,yes,sir,’cried she,with ready sympathy,‘how you must miss her!And dear Emma too.What a dreadful loss to you both!I have been so grieved for you.I could not imagine how you could possibly do without her.It is a sad change,indeed;but I hope she is pretty well,sir.’
‘Pretty well,my dear-I hope-pretty well.I do not know but that the place agrees with her tolerably.’
Mr John Knightley here asked Emma,quietly,whether there were any doubts of the air of Randalls.
‘Oh,no,none in the least.I never saw Mrs Weston better in my life-never looking so well.Papa is only speaking his own regret.’
‘Very much to the honour of both,’was the handsome reply.
‘And do you see her,sir,tolerably often?’asked Isabella,in the plaintive tone which just suited her father.
Mr Woodhouse hesitated.‘Not near so often,my dear,as I could wish.’
‘Oh,papa,we have missed seeing them but one entire day since they married.Either in the morning or evening of every day,excepting one,have we seen either Mr Weston or Mrs Weston,and generally both,either at Randalls or here;and,as you may suppose,Isabella,most frequently here.They are very,very kind in their visits.Mr Weston is really as kind as herself.Papa,if you speak in that melancholy way,you will be giving Isabella a false idea of us all.Everybody must be aware that Miss Taylor must be missed;but everybody ought also to be assured that Mr and Mrs Weston do really prevent our missing her by any means to the extent we ourselves anticipated-which is the exact truth.’
‘Just as it should be,’said Mr John Knightley,‘and just as I hoped it was from your letters.Her wish of showing you attention could not be doubted,and his being a disengaged and social man makes it all easy.I have been always telling you,my love,that I had no idea of the change being so very material to Hartfield as you apprehended;and now you have Emma's account,I hope you will be satisfied.’
‘Why,to be sure,’said Mr Woodhouse-‘yes,certainly.I cannot deny that Mrs Weston-poor Mrs Weston-does come and see us pretty often;but then，she is always obliged to go away again.’
‘It would be very hard upon Mr Weston if she did not,papa.You quite forget poor Mr Weston.’
‘I think,indeed,’said John Knightley,pleasantly,‘that Mr Weston has some little claim.You and I,Emma,will venture to take the part of the poor husband.I being a husband,and you not being a wife,the claims of the man may very likely strike us with equal force.As for Isabella,she has been married long enough to see the convenience of putting all the Mr Westons aside as much as she can.’
