Emma and the Vampires

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by Wayne Josephson


  Mr. Knightley connected it to the carriage story. He feared there must be some decided involvement between Frank Churchill and Miss Fairfax. These letters were chosen to conceal a deeper game on Frank Churchill’s part.

  With great indignation, Mr. Knightley continued to observe Frank Churchill. He saw Frank prepare a short word for Emma, given to her with a sly look. He saw that Emma soon made it out and found it highly entertaining, though it was something which she judged improper, for she said, “Nonsense! For shame!”

  Mr. Knightley heard Frank Churchill say, with a glance towards Jane, “Shall I give it to her?” and heard Emma objecting with laughing warmth. “No, no, you must not; you will not, indeed.”

  It was done, however. This gallant young vampire, who seemed to love without feeling, directly handed over the word to Miss Fairfax and asked her to look at it.

  Mr. Knightley, excessively curious to know what this word might be, darted his eye towards it, and he saw it was Dixon. Jane Fairfax was evidently displeased. She looked up and seeing herself watched blushed more deeply than he had ever perceived her, and saying only, “I did not know that proper names were allowed” angrily pushed away the letters and turned towards her aunt.

  “Yes, very true, my dear,” cried Miss Bates, having seen the word herself. “I was just going to say the same thing. It is time for us to be going indeed. We really must wish you good night.”

  Jane immediately stood up to leave, and the group dispersed, ending the evening.

  Mr. Knightley remained at Hartfield after all the rest, his thoughts full of what he had seen. He felt that he must, as a friend, give Emma a hint of this. He could not see her in a situation of such danger without trying to help her. It was his duty.

  “Pray, Emma,” said he, “may I ask what was the great amusement of the last word given to you and Miss Fairfax? I saw the word, and I am curious to know how it could be so very entertaining to you and so very distressing to Miss Fairfax.”

  Emma was extremely confused. She could not give him the true explanation. “Oh!” she cried in evident embarrassment. “It all meant nothing—a mere joke among ourselves.”

  “The joke,” he replied gravely, “seemed confined to you and Mr. Churchill.”

  He had hoped she would speak again, but she did not. She would rather busy herself about anything than speak.

  Mr. Knightley sat a little while in doubt. At last he said, with earnest kindness, “My dear Emma, do you think you understand the level of friendship between the gentleman and lady we have been speaking of?”

  “Between Mr. Frank Churchill and Miss Fairfax? Oh, yes! Perfectly. Why do you ask?”

  “Have you ever had reason to think that he admired her, or that she admired him?”

  “Never, never!” she cried with a most open eagerness. “Never did such an idea occur to me. And how could it possibly come into your head?”

  “I have lately imagined that I saw signs of attachment between them—certain private, expressive looks.”

  “Oh! You amuse me excessively. I am delighted to find that you let your imagination wander. But there is no admiration between them, I do assure you. They are as far from any attachment from one another as any two beings in the world can be.”

  She spoke with a confidence which silenced Mr. Knightley. She wanted to hear the particulars of his suspicions, every look described, and all the where’s and how’s, but his feelings were too much irritated for talking. He soon took a hasty leave and walked home to the coolness and solitude of Donwell Abbey.

  Chapter 42

  Mrs. Elton was quite anxious to take an excursion; she settled on a visit to Box Hill country park. Emma and Mr. Weston had also been planning a trip there—Emma had never been, and she wished to see what everybody found so well worth seeing.

  Emma and Mr. Weston had agreed to invite two or three more to join them, and it was to be done in a quiet, unpretending, elegant way, infinitely superior to the bustle, preparation, and picnic parade of the Eltons.

  Emma was surprised, then, and felt a little displeasure, on hearing from Mr. Weston that he had invited the Eltons to join their group and that Mrs. Elton had very readily accepted.

  Mr. Weston had to be aware of Emma’s very great dislike of Mrs. Elton, but since Emma did not want to offend Mrs. Weston, she found herself obliged to consent to the arrangement.

  “I am glad you approve of what I have done,” said Mr. Weston very comfortably. “But I thought you would. And Mrs. Elton is a good-natured woman after all. One could not leave her out.”

  Emma denied none of it aloud and agreed to none of it in private.

  It was now the middle of June and the weather fine. Mrs. Elton was growing impatient to name the day and settle with Mr. Weston as to pigeon pies and cold lamb for those mortals in the group who required food.

  But then the Eltons’ carriage horse became lame and threw everything into sad uncertainty. It might be weeks before the horse was usable, and so preparations could not be continued.

  “Is this not most annoying, Knightley?” she cried. “These delays and disappointments are quite odious. What are we to do?”

  “You could explore Donwell Abbey,” replied Mr. Knightley. “That may be done without horses. The mortals may eat my strawberries. They are ripening fast. And besides, it would present a convenient opportunity to gather all our friends about us and organise a definitive attack to rid Highbury of the secret nest of wild, vagrant vampires.

  “Oh! I should like it of all things!” said Mrs. Elton.

  Donwell Abbey was famous for its strawberry patches, but for a lady who just wanted to go somewhere—anywhere—cabbage patches would have been enough to tempt Mrs. Elton.

  “You may depend upon me,” said she. “I certainly will come. Name your day and I shall come. You will allow me to bring Jane Fairfax?”

  “I cannot name a day,” said he, “till I have spoken to the others whom I would wish to attend.”

  “Oh! Leave all that to me. Give me a carte blanche. I am Lady Patroness, you know. It is my party. I shall bring friends with me.”

  “I trust you will bring Mr. Elton,” said he, “but I shall give out all the other invitations.”

  “Oh! Now you are looking very sly. It is my party. Leave it all to me. I shall invite your guests.”

  “No,” he calmly replied, “there is but one woman in the world whom I would ever allow to invite whatever guests she pleases to Donwell, and that one is—”

  “Mrs. Weston, I suppose,” interrupted Mrs. Elton, rather mortified.

  “No, it is Mrs. Knightley. And until she exists, I shall manage such matters myself.”

  “Ah! You are an odd creature, even for a vampire!” she cried. “You are quite the humourist. Well, I shall bring Jane and her aunt with me—the rest I leave to you.”

  Mr. Knightley was fortunate in everybody’s most ready acceptance, for a universal desire permeated the society of Highbury to consume strawberries and plan the final vampire battle. Mr. Weston promised to get Frank over to join them. Mr. Knightley was disappointed but said he should be glad to see Frank.

  Meanwhile, the lame horse recovered so fast that the excursion to Box Hill was now possible. It was agreed that Donwell would be attended one day and Box Hill the next, providing the weather appeared exactly right.

  ***

  It was so long since Emma had been at Donwell Abbey that she was eager to refresh her memory. The house was larger than Hartfield, rambling and irregular, with many comfortable and handsome rooms. Its ample gardens stretched down to meadows washed by a stream.

  Rich pastures, the orchard in bloom—Emma felt an increasing respect for it, as the residence of a family of such true gentility. She had pleasant feelings about the Abbey, and she walked about and indulged them till it was necessary to join the others round the strawberry beds.

 
; The whole party was assembled, except Frank Churchill, who was expected any moment from Richmond. Mrs. Elton, in her large bonnet and basket, was very ready to lead the way in gathering and accepting strawberries.

  Afterwards, seats were found in the shade to escape the heat. Mr. Knightley proposed his plan of action for the vampire raid; all were invited to contribute their various thoughts on the matter; and within a short time, a consensus was reached as to the specific date of the attack and the strategy with which to implement it.

  Afterwards, as the group engaged in small conversations, Emma was able to overhear what Mrs. Elton and Jane Fairfax were talking of.

  Mrs. Elton had received word that morning of a most desirable governess position for Jane and was in raptures. It was with an acquaintance of Mrs. Elton’s in Maple Grove.

  The situation was delightful, charming, superior, everything—and Mrs. Elton was wild to have Jane accept the offer immediately. Miss Fairfax continued to assure her that she would not at present engage in anything.

  Still, Mrs. Elton insisted on being authorised to write an acceptance letter by tomorrow. At last, it was more than Jane could bear. She proposed a walk. “Would Mr. Knightley show them the gardens—all the gardens?”

  During this walk, Emma noticed Mr. Knightley and Harriet strolling apart from the rest of the party, quietly leading the way. Mr. Knightley and Harriet! It was an odd sight, but Emma was glad to see it. There had been a time when Mr. Knightley would have scorned Harriet as a companion. Now they seemed in pleasant conversation, perhaps finding a common bond in vampire slaying.

  Next they all went into the house to eat, and they were all seated and busy, but still Frank Churchill did not come. Mrs. Weston looked and looked in vain. Frank had assured them he would come.

  The meal was over, the food half-eaten, and the party went outside to see the Abbey fishponds. Mr. Woodhouse chose to stay inside, and Emma remained with him.

  Emma walked into the hall, when suddenly Jane Fairfax appeared, coming in quickly from the garden with a look of escape about her.

  Startled at seeing Emma, Jane said, “Will you be so kind to tell everyone that I am gone home? I am going this moment. I have said nothing about it to anybody. It would only be giving trouble and distress.”

  “Certainly, if you wish—but you are not going to walk to Highbury alone, are you?”

  “Yes—what should hurt me? I walk fast. I shall be at home in twenty minutes.”

  “But it is too far, indeed it is, to be walking quite alone. And with all the danger lurking about. Let me order the carriage. It can be round in five minutes.”

  “Thank you, but no, Miss Woodhouse. The greatest kindness you can show me would be to let me have my own way and only mention that I am gone when it becomes necessary.”

  “Have you any silver on your person, Jane, to ward off an attacker?”

  “Why yes, I am wearing my charm bracelet.”

  Emma had not another word to oppose. She watched Jane safely off with the zeal of a friend. Jane’s parting look was grateful, and her parting words were, “Oh! Miss Woodhouse, the comfort of being sometimes alone!” Emma thought they seemed to burst from an overcharged heart.

  Jane had not been gone a quarter of an hour when Frank Churchill entered the room. Emma had not been thinking of him—she had forgotten to think of him—but she was very glad to see him.

  He had been detained by a nervous seizure in his aunt. The heat was excessive; he almost wished he had stayed at home, and he sat down in a foul mood.

  “You will soon be cooler if you sit still,” said Emma.

  “As soon as I am cooler I shall go back home again. I felt I had to come—it was expected of me! But I should not have come! Madness in such weather, absolute madness!”

  Emma listened, looked, and recommended his taking some refreshment to calm his anger.

  “No, there is only one thing I should desire to drink right now, but you would not oblige me, I am sure!” and he stalked off.

  Emma thought to herself, “I am glad I am done being in love with him. I should not like a man who is so soon discomposed by a hot morning. Harriet’s sweet, easy temper will not mind it.”

  He was gone long enough to have cooled down, coming back with good manners. He was not in his best spirits but seemed trying to improve them.

  “As soon as my aunt gets well I shall go to Switzerland and escape this dreadful heat,” said he. “I shall never be calm till I have seen some of those places.”

  “You will never go to Switzerland. Your uncle and aunt will never allow you to leave England.”

  “I ought to travel. I am tired of doing nothing. I want a change. I am serious, Miss Woodhouse. Whatever your penetrating eyes may fancy, I am sick of England and would leave it tomorrow if I could.”

  “You are merely sick of prosperity and comfort. Cannot you invent a few hardships for yourself and be contented to stay?”

  “You are quite mistaken. I do not look upon myself as either prosperous or comfortable. I do not consider myself at all a fortunate person. Look at these black eyes. If only you knew what I require to satisfy them!”

  “We are going to Box Hill tomorrow—join us. It is not Switzerland, but it will be something for a young man so much in want of a change.”

  “No, certainly not.”

  The rest of the party was now returning and all were soon collected. With some, there was great joy at the sight of Frank Churchill; others, not so. But there was distress and disturbance upon Miss Fairfax’s disappearance being explained.

  Then it was time for everybody to go and with a final arrangement for the next day’s excursion and satisfaction that they had conceived a viable plan to rid the countryside of vampires, they parted.

  Frank Churchill’s last words to Emma were “Well, if you wish me to go to Box Hill, I shall.”

  She smiled her acceptance.

  Chapter 43

  They had a very fine day for Box Hill. Everybody had a burst of excitement on first arriving, but later there was a lack of good spirits and they separated too much into groups. The Eltons walked together, Mr. Knightley took charge of Miss Bates and Jane Fairfax, and Emma and Harriet belonged to Frank Churchill.

  The two whole hours spent on the hill was downright dullness to Emma. She had never seen Frank Churchill so silent and stupid. He said nothing worth hearing and listened without knowing what she said. While he was so dull, it was no wonder that Harriet should be dull likewise, and they were both insufferable.

  When they all sat down together, Mr. Knightley attempted to review details of the anticipated moonlight raid on the wild vampires’ nest. But on this particularly unpleasant outing, he could elicit no interest whatsoever.

  Frank Churchill grew talkative and merry, paying excessive attention to Emma. She, in turn, became merry and encouraging as well, though her attention to him meant nothing more than friendship.

  Frank Churchill became very excitable. “Our companions are excessively dull and stupid,” he said to Emma. “What shall we do to rouse them? Any nonsense will serve.”

  He announced to the group, “Ladies and gentlemen, I am ordered by Miss Woodhouse to say that she desires to know what you are all thinking of.”

  Some laughed and answered good-humouredly. Mr. Knightley’s answer was the most distinct.

  “Is Miss Woodhouse sure that she would like to hear what we are all thinking of?”

  “Oh! No, no,” cried Emma, laughing as carelessly as she could. “It is the very last thing I would want. There are one or two, perhaps,” glancing at Mr. Weston and Harriet, “whose thoughts I might not be afraid of knowing.”

  “It will not do,” whispered Frank to Emma. “They are most of them affronted. Ladies and gentlemen, I am ordered by Miss Woodhouse to say that she only requires something very entertaining from each of you—either one thing
very clever, or two things moderately clever, or three things very dull indeed.”

  “Oh! Very well,” exclaimed Miss Bates. “Three things very dull indeed. That will be easy for me, you know. I shall be sure to say three dull things as soon as ever I open my mouth.”

  Emma could not resist. “Ah! Ma’am, but that may be difficult. You are limited to only three at once!”

  Miss Bates did not immediately catch her meaning; but then, a slight blush showed that it pained her.

  “Yes, I see what she means, and I shall try to hold my tongue. I must be very disagreeable, or she would not have said such a thing to an old friend.”

  “Allow me to try,” cried Mr. Weston. “I shall make a puzzle. What two letters of the alphabet express perfection?”

  “I am sure I do not know,” said Frank Churchill.

  “Ah! And I am sure you will never guess. I shall tell you. M and A. Emma. Do you understand?”

  Emma found a great deal to laugh at and enjoy in it, and so did Frank and Harriet. But it did not seem to touch the rest of the party equally.

  “Oh! For myself, I must be excused,” said Mrs. Elton, offended. “I am not at all fond of this sort of thing. I have nothing clever to say.”

  “Yes, yes,” added her husband, with a sort of sneer. “I have nothing to say that can entertain Miss Woodhouse. Shall we walk, Augusta?” They stormed off.

  “Happy couple!” said Frank Churchill, as soon as they were out of hearing. “How well they suit one another! A marriage of blood and money, to be sure! Very lucky, marrying as they did, upon an acquaintance formed only a few weeks. How many a man has committed himself on a short acquaintance and regretted it all the rest of his life!” At least, he thought, Mr. Elton got a night’s sustenance from it.

  Miss Fairfax, who had seldom spoken before, spoke now. “Such things do occur, undoubtedly. But it can be only weak, indecisive characters who will suffer such an unfortunate acquaintance forever.”

 

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