Injured by the reception she had received from Miss Woodhouse, who refused to treat her either as an equal or as a friend, Mrs. Elton was mollified by the friendly effusions of Miss Bates, whose warmth did something to compensate for the elegant coldness of Miss Woodhouse's manners.
"Very welcome - to be sure, it has quite hurt me that the dear old Vicarage had no mistress - and it is so charming to see our dear Mr. Elton so happy! It is quite a romance. I was telling Jane, that when my dear father was alive, the vicarage was always overflowing. You, my dear, perhaps cannot remember it - I am always forgetting how very young you are, Jane - but our house was so very lively! I know Mrs. Elton will restore it to what it was, and what it ought to be. A vicarage is the heart of a village, you know, quite the heart. The soup we dispensed - I have long been sorry that our circumstances are now too reduced to enable us to carry on that tradition, but when my dear father was here, we were able to be more bountiful, and I shall look out all our good old receipts for you. I believe they are stored in my mother's chest, at least, they used to be. I do not quite like to ask Jane to open it, for she is not strong, but there is no hurry. You will be at the Vicarage a long time, dear Mrs. Elton, and we will find the receipts for you."
Mrs. Elton assented graciously. It was her intention that the Vicarage should be a house of bounty and benevolence, and she asserted that she would by no means suffer anyone in the parish to go hungry.
"Indeed," said she, "I would be sorry if more than the poor ever had too little to eat. If you and your mother, Miss Bates, in your reduced circumstances, should ever require any addition to your diet, I should be only too glad to send over a baking of biscuits, or a chicken. I am quite concerned that Miss Fairfax is not sufficiently nourished. She is so pale and thin, though it is a becoming thinness."
Miss Bates could hardly stop to thank her enough. "Never were such neighbours! But it's quite unnecessary. Dear Mr. Woodhouse lately sent us such a hindquarter of pork - and Mr. Knightley is always so generous with his garden stuff. But you are right about Jane, I cannot persuade her to eat, and sometimes I suspect - I should not say this, but I cannot help suspecting - that some of her meals make their appearance more than once. She cannot always keep her food down."
"How shocking!" exclaimed Mrs. Elton. "We must not allow that to happen. We must take care of you, Jane, indeed we must."
"I am most grateful to you for your concern," said Jane earnestly, "but indeed, I do partake of all that I require; and I have very seldom really been ill. My dear aunt worries about me, but I beg you will not, Mrs. Elton."
"But indeed I shall worry about you, Jane. I knew from the first moment I saw you that we should be the very best of friends; I made up my mind then, that I should visit you every day. You will help me to make my house the perfect vicarage. I can hardly succeed without some hints, for you are a clever creature, I know, and will be an invaluable aide-de-camp, now that I am transplanted and have blossomed into a vicar's wife."
Miss Bates smiled happily. "It will be a privilege to have an interest in the vicarage again, won't it, Jane?" she said. "My mother will be so glad, for old times' sake. It is such a benefit to have proper useful work again."
Jane did not appear to know what to say. "Are you are you pleased with the house, ma'am?" she asked. "Do you mean to make many changes?"
"It is so very small, that there is not much we can do," replied Mrs. Elton, "other than to throw out a bow or a wing or two, but that will be the work of another year. At present I can only venture to get rid of the yellow curtains, which the housekeeper would inflict upon my poor dear Mr. E. But I do mean to entertain very often, to have card parties and sweet little dinners, in addition to my charitable duties; and you will be my right hand, will not you, Jane?"
Jane said something, which did not carry far, but it was enough encouragement for Mrs. Elton to go on in a confiding vein. "To say the truth, I am aware that my inexperience requires aid - for being the Lady Bountiful of such a parish is quite outside my knowledge - and I did hope to engage Miss Woodhouse as my assistant, as she is so very important in Highbury. But I met with no success in my application."
"So I would imagine," Jane could not help saying.
"Ah! I understand. You are well acquainted with Miss Woodhouse's ways. Of course, you have known her from childhood, have you not? You are quite of an age, and have been visiting in Highbury often."
"Yes, I have always known her."
"Yet I see that you are not intimate. May I ask forgive me, but is it not your opinion that Miss Woodhouse is a very haughty and proud young lady, above being friends in an ordinary way?"
"You are right, Mrs. Elton, in thinking that we are not intimate friends. I cannot pretend otherwise. We ought to be - and from time to time I have tried; but she has made it very difficult for me to like her, because, to say the truth, I do not believe that she likes me."
"Not like you! Well, Jane, that is very bad - and most inexplicable. You are the person that I like most in Highbury, next to my caro sposo, and so I told him, as soon as ever I saw you. Not to like such an elegant young woman, with such talents, such beauty, and such modesty! I have never seen your equal, not in Bath nor in London neither, and I daresay Miss Woodhouse is jealous. That is it, depend upon it, she is positively jealous."
"Oh! do not run away with such an idea, dear Mrs. Elton," protested Miss Bates. "Miss Woodhouse is such an old friend - and she is so handsome and so rich herself, she could never be jealous of any one, certainly not poor Jane, who has no money you know, and as we suppose, will have to be a governess."
"Such a fate," declared Mrs. Elton positively, "I certainly shall endeavour to spare you. We must find you a husband, as I found my Mr. E.; though I ordinarily despise match-making, I do indeed - I consider it quite vulgar. To be sure, I have heard that Miss Woodhouse prides herself on being an expert, and tries to marry off her friends, but it is not a thing I could ever bring myself to do. Indeed, except for introducing my sister to her Mr. Suckling, and the Bragges to one another, I never have. Still, it cannot be denied that a good husband is the very answer for you. What say you to Mr. Knightley?"
"Mr. Knightley!"
"Yes; he likes you. I am sure he does. I observed him the other night when we were at Hartfield. He is at a dangerous age, and when such a man spends so much time looking at a pretty young woman and listening to her sing, I can assure you there is mischief afoot. I have seen a great deal of the world, and understand these matters thoroughly."
"I must beg you not to pursue that line of thinking, Mrs. Elton," said Jane quietly. "Mr. Knightley never has had a thought of me, I am sure, and I do not think of him."
"Oh! well, that's a mistake; he is the only man in Highbury I could accept for you; but if you are determined not to marry, then an eligible situation you must have, and I shall seek one for you. We must not allow you to be lost entirely. If you do not chuse to remain in Highbury, then you must be transplanted to Maple Grove, or its neighbourhood I have many charming married friends there, you must know. Then I can be sure of seeing you whenever I visit Selina."
"I thank you for your concern, but you are too precipitate, Mrs. Elton, indeed you are. I remain here until the Campbells' return."
"Do you? Well, you know your own interest best, I hope you do; but there is a readiness about me when it comes to business. When I see a thing to be done I do it, and I imagine that this executive turn will serve me well in my vicarage life. Passivity is all very charming, and all that - but not in a married woman." She nodded vigorously. "And so I will do all the work for you, indeed I will. I could do no less for a true friend, and I am determined that I shall prove myself a true friend to you."
"Jane will be so obliged," interrupted Miss Bates, "she has never had a real young woman friend in Highbury before, have you, Jane? And where can she look for a more proper friend, than the vicar's wife? We are so obliged, are not we Jane?"
"Yes, we shall be such friends, and no one will re
cognize Highbury when we have done our work together, will they Jane? We shall modernize it entirely. A musical society - a soup kitchen - visits to the poor - card parties exploring expeditions - a delightful situation as a governess Oh! only think! what a summer opens before us!"
PART FIVE
Mrs. Elton's kind attentions to Jane Fairfax had become habit with her, and accordingly she dispatched her carriage to fetch her ` friend and Miss Bates on the night of the ball at the Crown. She was in great hopes of this ball, for it would introduce her to Mr. Weston's son, Frank Churchill. He would be a new, and it might be, friendly element in the society that was so sternly arrayed against her; and it had not failed to enter her mind that, with some leading from herself, a match between him and Jane might be brought about. Frank Churchill was said to be a very fine young man; and Jane had a heart unattached. She had shown no disposition to try to marry Mr. Knightley, so perhaps Frank Churchill would be the lucky man.
All Mrs. Elton's happy hopes and schemes were doomed, however, by her very early seeing that Frank Churchill did not take to her. She wore lace and pearls, and Wright had spent hours curling her hair into an elaborate arrangement, but Mr. Churchill did not seem to notice her elegant appearance, and only joined with Miss Woodhouse in directing disapproving looks toward the vicar's wife. It could not have been anything she did herself; their acquaintance was not more than ten minutes old, she had only had time to exchange compliments on their dress with Jane, and yet it was plain that he did not like her. He had been told not to like her, by Miss Woodhouse. They talked like intimate friends; probably they had matrimony in mind for themselves: no hopes for Jane there. Mrs. Elton reflected on the consoling thought that the result of a match between Mr. Churchill and Miss Woodhouse would be the removal of the lady from Highbury. As the new Mrs. Churchill, living at Enscombe, she would be quite out of Mrs. Elton's sphere. It was of all things to be desired.
Mrs. Elton was somewhat cheered by seeing how very much she was the queen of the evening, as a bride had every right to be. She had the honour of opening the ball with Mr. Weston, though it did not escape her notice that Frank Churchill was guilty of some manoeuvring to avoid dancing with her. He wanted to dance with Miss Woodhouse instead. Mrs. Elton could excuse that; but she felt evidences of coldness and exclusion everywhere she turned. In the glances exchanged by Mr. Knightley and Miss Woodhouse - by Miss Woodhouse and Miss Smith. They were all her enemies, yet what had she done to any of them? Her ways, her manners, were not like theirs; she knew that well enough. She was not capable of their sort of superior insolence, the exquisite politeness that only pointed up the disdain beneath: when she thought a thing, she said it. If they were so petty and exacting as to mind such a difference in her, and disapprove of the manner when the heart was right, what hope had she of ever living in harmony with any of them?
Mrs. Weston, whom Mrs. Elton had never supposed capable of a deliberate unkindness, was the originator of the evening's most uncomfortable moment. Mr. Elton and her husband had privately agreed that he would not dance with Miss Woodhouse or Miss Smith, if he could help it. To be sure, the question of dancing with Miss Woodhouse did not arise; he could be no more eager to avoid the encounter than she was. There came, however, a moment when Harriet was disengaged. Mr. Elton would not ask her to dance. It must be common knowledge to everyone in the room that the girl was still in love with him, he, a married man - only observe how she sat in the corner, making sheep's eyes at him, in a way that everybody must understand. That was how she had goggled at him, several times each day, since long before his marriage. It was only to be expected that Mr. Elton's asking Miss Smith to dance would feature prominently in Highbury gossip. Therefore, to show the Highbury world that he cared nothing for her, he walked about, ostentatiously disengaged. It was then that Mrs. Weston, kindly but with ill-judging interference, directly asked him to dance with Miss Smith!
Mr. Elton caught his wife's eye. He would not pain her for the world, by dancing with a girl so obviously, so embarrassingly, in love with him; and he made some fumbling excuse and backed away from Mrs. Weston. She was mortified, which he regretted, but could not help. Miss Woodhouse had heard and seen the whole thing, and was glaring daggers at them both. For her part, Augusta could not be sorry that her husband had been loyal to her, and she smiled at him, with relief. What was her astonishment, a moment later, when Mr. Knightley himself led Harriet to the set! She understood his action well enough. Mr. Knightley felt sorry for Harriet, and was another of those who disliked Mrs. Elton - influenced by Miss Woodhouse of course - and wished to spite her. She was sorry for it. She had thought better of his good nature.
The Westons, to soothe the ruffled feelings that were fluttering about the room, took special care to invite Mrs. Elton to lead the train into the chamber where the supper was laid. All eyes were upon her as she swept by, and she felt her cheeks burning, but tried to hold her head up with some dignity, and to show herself unconcerned, though she saw Miss Woodhouse's dark, resentful looks upon her the whole time.
Whatever snobberies her neighbours practiced, Mrs. Elton was no faint spirit to be daunted by them, and would not desist in her tries to be liked and accepted by the best society in Highbury. She must live here always; she was fixed to the spot; and in her position as the vicar's wife, it would be most becoming to forgive her enemies. In consequence of such like reflections, she determined that there should be a dinner party, arranged in the proper style; and not many days had passed since the ball at the Crown, before she graciously invited Mr. Knightley, Jane, and Mr. and Mrs. Weston to dine, with the intention of showing that she harboured no ill will to any one. She dared not go so far as to invite Miss Woodhouse, even though there had been a dinner given for her at Hartfield; for she was quite certain that Miss Woodhouse would never accept her invitation.
If Augusta had some lingering hopes of creating an opportunity for an attachment to develop between Mr. Knightley and Jane, her efforts were not met with success. Jane spent the evening sitting by Frank Churchill, who amused her with stories that seemed to be about Ireland, and the Dixon party - Mrs. Elton could not quite catch the sense of it, but Mr. Churchill's mirth was evident, and seemed to give Mr. Knightley much pain. His eyes were often on the young pair, and she could see jealousy written plainly on his features. There could be no doubt that he was in love with Jane Fairfax, and doomed to disappointment.
The dinner carried on like most such occasions; a little flirtation, some indifferent wit, and the most remarkable feature of the evening being Augusta's elaborate piles of exotic fruit, berries and even a pineapple, that she had imported at great expense from London.
PART SIX
As the summer wore on, Mrs. Elton was disappointed by her sister and brother-in-law, who repeatedly put off their visit to T Highbury, and she began to have unhappy thoughts about their refusals. She knew she had not married as high as Selina, but she had hoped her sister would want to make an early visit to inspect her happiness; and there could be no doubt that the arrival of the prosperous couple in their barouche-landau would have been of assistance in improving Augusta's own standing in Highbury. But the Sucklings did not come. Was Selina ashamed that Augusta was only a clergyman's wife? The Sucklings had seemed to approve of the match, but perhaps it was only that they thought she was old enough to catch at any thing. Yet Mr. E. was not any thing - he was the best husband in all the world, as Selina should have seen for herself when they made their wedding trip to Maple Grove. Augusta would have enjoyed showing her Highbury and showing Highbury the famous Mrs. Suckling.
It was not to be. A restless summer lay ahead, without any schemes of happiness, and Augusta daily felt more uneasy and out of things. This would never do; some attempt toward cheerfulness must be made. She proposed the plan of a drive to Box Hill; but was only rewarded by the mortification of understanding that Miss Woodhouse was so little disposed to join her party, that she insisted on undertaking a separate trip of her own. Mr. Weston, however,
was ever Mrs. Elton's kind friend, if nobody else was; and he, with his good heart and social manner, brought about a joining of the two parties. They were all to go together. Miss Woodhouse could not excuse herself without extreme awkwardness, and embarrassing the Westons.
In the event, the party had to be put off; but Mrs. Elton's excessive disappointment was completely done away with by Mr. Knightley's good-natured proposal that they all come to Donwell to eat his strawberries. She seized at this suggestion with delight. Perhaps he did like her, after all! She had always thought he honestly did, that it was his nature to be benevolent and kind-hearted, and that it was only Miss Woodhouse who poisoned him with her own dislike. It was beyond doubt that the strawberry-party was made for her; and her spirits rose at the prospect, even to a pitch a little too high. She pictured herself at last, in her excitement, as all she had ever dreamed of being in Highbury: the Lady Patroness, the inviter of all guests, the bringer of Jane Fairfax. If Mr. Knightley reproved her mildly, he did not rescind the invitation, and Mrs. Elton checked herself, aware that she had been a little too eager. It was her way to be vivacious, it was her love of life. To show that she had no resentment, she warmly assured Mr. Knightley that she had no objection to meeting Miss Woodhouse, and she even offered him the use of her housekeeper.
The day dawned with perfect Midsummer beauty. Donwell was lovelier than Mrs. Elton could have conceived, with its ripening berries, and sweet views; and best of all she had received tidings that morning of the very situation she had been seeking for Jane. Her friend Mrs. Smallridge was in want of a governess. She instantly laid the good news before Jane, but Jane was in no good humour. It was understandable; she could not rejoice in the reality that she must be a governess after all. And today of all days, her fate would seem harder than ever, placed as she was in such a setting as Donwell, regarding Mr. Knightley's verdant fields and the mellow, handsome old Abbey. She, who might have chosen to be mistress of Donwell, would be cast off from good society forever. Mrs. Elton was sorry for her, but really the girl must face facts: with all her loveliness, and with every virtue and talent in the world besides, she had no money. If she would not seek a great match, then she must accept the consequence. There was no other choice. The Campbells must have thrown her off; and to remain in the penury and squalor of the Bates' upstairs apartment for month after month, was no answer. Yes, it was time for her to be practical, and accept what must be.
Mrs Elton in Amercia Page 4
