Mr. Knightley’s Diary

After dinner, there was some sensible discussion about ways to relieve the poor, but as soon as we rejoined the ladies in the drawing-room, the talk was all of a coming ball.

"It was Mr. Churchill’s idea," said Miss Cox. "He and Miss Woodhouse were so taken with the dancing at your house, Mrs. Cole, that they wanted to continue it, and so they have decided to hold a ball at the Crown. Mother and I just happened to pass Mr. Churchill when he was hurrying to see Miss

Bates, to ask her opinion on the size of the room."

"Ay, just the person to ask," said Mr. Longridge kindly.

"I do not know when I have been more gratified," said Miss Bates, taking up the tale. "Mother and I were just sitting down to a dish of tea when who should walk in but Mr. Frank Churchill! I was just thanking him for mending mother’s glasses - so kind! So obliging! For mother cannot see without them, and she could not wear them without the rivet, for you know it was quite impossible - what was I speaking of? Oh yes, the ball. Mr. Churchill asked me to go and give my opinion and he would not take no for an answer, and Jane was invited, too, of course, for I am sure no one knows more about elegant gatherings than Jane, through having been to so many with the Campbells. I went across to the Crown and told them the rooms were perfectly large enough, and no draughts to be feared, as long as the windows are kept closed. Mr. Churchill was so obliging as to secure Miss Woodhouse’s hand for the first two dances, so we will all be treated to some dancing of the most superior kind."

Miss Fairfax looked distressed, and I thought she must be ill indeed if the thought of a ball did not lift her spirits, for I cannot believe her distress was at Emma being singled out in this way. Miss Fairfax is too generous for that.

Miss Fairfax was the only person who was silent, however. Everyone else broke out into conversation. As they discussed the ball, I found myself wondering why Churchill should be asking Emma for the first two dances. It was not his place to do so, though everyone else seems pleased with the idea. I found myself wishing I had asked her first.

However, the ball will very likely come to nothing as he is to return to his aunt in a few days" time.

I find myself hoping that he will never come back.

Thursday 11 March

Emma was full of the ball, and my hope that it would not take place proved a vain one. When I visited Hartfield, Emma could talk of nothing else. Frank Churchill had appealed to his aunt, who had graciously declared she could manage without him, with the result that he was to stay for a week beyond his appointed time.

I tried to be generous, for Emma has little enough to entertain her, but my tongue would not do what I wished it to do.

"If the Westons think it worth while to be at all this trouble for a few hours of noisy entertainment, I have nothing to say against it, but they shall not choose pleasures for me," I said.

"But you will be there?" Emma asked me, with a trace of anxiety.

I almost asked her what it was to her, but I managed to restrain myself just in time.

"Oh! yes, I must be there," I said. "I could not refuse; and I will keep as much awake as I can; but I would rather be at the Abbey, I confess."

"Surely you would rather be at the Crown, instead of sitting at home with your accounts?" she asked.

"I cannot see why," I answered bad-temperedly.

"Because you will have an opportunity of dancing."

"I do not care to dance," I remarked.

"You will at least take pleasure in seeing it," she said.

"Pleasure in seeing dancing! Not I, indeed. I never look at it. I do not know who does. Fine dancing,

I believe, like virtue, must be its own reward. Those who are standing by are usually thinking of something very different."

I felt annoyed with myself for saying it, but I could not take any pleasure in seeing Emma dance with Mr. Churchill.

Emma was quite angry, and I am not surprised. I was being churlish. Moreover, I was implying that her belief that people enjoyed to see fine dancing sprang from the vanity of those who were dancing, and that is not the case. I know it as well as she. And yet I could not be gracious with the thought of Frank Churchill in my mind.

Why I am so opposed to him I do not know. He is young and foolish and has odd fancies, but there is no real harm in him. And yet I cannot like him, do what I may. If Emma had not taken such a fancy to him, then it might have been different, but to hear her constantly talking about him puts me out of temper. He is no different from other young men his age, and I cannot see why she finds him so interesting.

Saturday 13 March

I have been punished for my gracelessness, for I find that Emma’s happiness is to be lost. Frank Churchill has had a letter from his uncle saying that his aunt is unwell, and that he must go home. I am sure the letter had more to do with his aunt’s selfishness than any illness. She could not bear to think of her nephew enjoying himself, that was all.