Mr. Knightley’s Diary

By the time we returned to Hartfield, the boys were exhausted, and they were able to sit and play quietly by the fireside.

"What good children they are," said Mr. Woodhouse contentedly.

"When they have had Uncle Knightley to wear them out!" said Emma. "It is a good thing he invited them to the Abbey, where they could run about."

"They are lively children. They need to use up their energy, and where better than at their uncle’s house? And what have you been doing?" I asked Emma.

I looked at the drawing by the fire and picked it up. I noticed that it had not been done by Emma, but by her niece.

"This is good. This is very good," I said teasingly to Emma. "I think it is your best work"

Emma laughed.

"I cannot aspire to such greatness. That is Bella’s picture."

"Did you do this?" I asked Bella.

She nodded.

"And what is it?" I asked, looking at the squiggle on the paper. "Is it a castle?"

She shook her head.

"Is it a horse?"

She shook her head again,

"What then?"

"Papa!" she cried.

I looked at it from every direction, and discerned an eye and a mouth.

"A very good likeness. I like it even better than your aunt Emma’s portrait of Papa. You have caught his expression beautifully."

Bella was delighted, and we settled down to a comfortable family evening. Mr. Woodhouse seemed to have accepted our dining at the Westons" as a settled thing, and a few more cheerful conversations on the subject reconciled him to going out on a cold, dark evening.

As I walked home, I found I was looking forward to it.

Wednesday 23 December

I had Horrocks find our skates, so that by the time John joined me with the children, I was ready to take them down to the stream.

John and I showed the boys how to fasten the skates, helping them as they needed it, and then we all ventured on to the ice. The weather was perfect for our enterprise. The air was cold, but not biting, and a weak sun shone down on our faces. The exercise was invigorating, so that we all returned to Hartfield with hearty appetites.

After taking tea, Emma proposed charades. Isabella fell in with the suggestion readily enough. Harriet seemed lethargic, but was compliant. The children went up to the attic with Emma and Isabella, and came down with an armful of clothes. There was great hilarity as Bella put on an old dress of Isabella’s, which was far too big for her, and walked round in her mother’s shoes, which were also far too large. In vain did Emma, Harriet and Isabella try to persuade her to part with her treasures, and tempt her with other, more suitable, clothes!

The children were too young to understand much of it, but they liked dressing up, and the rest of the party enjoyed the game.

The first charade took us some time to guess. It began with Isabella and the children sitting down, throwing something through the air. A great deal of laughter was produced by our false guesses, until John guessed that they were fishing, and we arrived, by circuitous route, at "river-bank". A moment’s further thought showed us the word was simply "bank". Emma then came in dressed as a queen.

Mr. Woodhouse could offer no guesses, being more concerned with Emma’s beauty, and for myself I had to agree, for I have always found her face and form to be more pleasing than any other I have ever seen.

I could not immediately see the significance, until I thought again of the first syllable, and realized the word was "bank-note", with Emma being a woman of note.

By the time the game was over, it was obvious why Harriet was so lethargic. She was suffering from a cold. She said that she must return to Mrs. Goddard’s, and Emma would not hear of it, saying she could not allow her friend to leave the house. But Harriet begged to be allowed to be nursed by Mrs. Goddard, so the carriage was sent for, and Harriet was conveyed home.

Mr. Woodhouse was anxious all evening, hoping Harriet might not take a turn for the worse, but offering tragic tales of colds that had turned to pneumonia, leading to early graves. Isabella watched her children anxiously, lest one of them should have also taken cold. She and her father argued about the cures recommended by their respective physicians, and Emma sensibly decided to take the children up to the nursery. John and I retreated behind our newspapers, and let Isabella and her father have their argument in peace.

Thursday 24 December

John had an opportunity to warn Emma about Elton’s attentions today, though whether she has taken the hint he does not know. He chanced to meet them both this morning, when he was returning from the Abbey with the boys. Emma seemed very solicitous of Elton, John told me, which alarmed me, until I had heard the full tale. She had tried to persuade him that he had a cold, and that he should not go to the Westons this evening as he was not well enough.

"Elton did not know what to say," said John. "He had no sign of a cold that I could see, yet he did not want to contradict her."