Relive Jane Austen's Emma- from Mr. Knightley's point of view. Between managing his estate and visiting his brother in London, Mr. Knightley is both exasperated and amused by his irresistibly beautiful, outrageously mischievous neighbor, Emma Woodhouse, whose misguided attempts at matchmaking are wreaking havoc in the village of Highbury. But when a handsome newcomer arrives and catches Emma's attention, Mr. Knightley is shocked by his reaction. Amusement gives way to another emotion entirely-for his unreasonable dislike of the handsome newcomer seems suspiciously like jealousy.
I was very sorry to have to tell Weston that I will miss his wedding, as business calls me to town, but I am looking forward to seeing John and Isabella again. I can hardly believe it is seven years since they married. It seems like only yesterday they were courting, and John was neglecting everything in favour of walking over to Hartfield to see her. It was fortunate for him that he found a wife so near. She could hardly have been nearer! And now they have five children. It is, perhaps, time that I, too, thought of taking a wife.
I rose early and spent the day looking over my accounts, making sure everything was ready for my trip to London. I gave William Larkins his instructions, and having satisfied myself that he knew what to do in my absence, I walked over to Hartfield to take my leave.
When I was shown into the drawing-room, I found Emma and her father sitting with Miss Taylor. It was an attractive group. Miss Taylor was looking well, as befitted a governess who was about to be married. Mr. Woodhouse was talking to Emma, and she was sitting on a low stool beside him. As soon as she perceived me, she stood up and came forward to greet me.
"Mr. Knightley, I am so pleased to see you. We were just saying, were we not, Papa, that we hoped Mr. Knightley would look in?"
"Yes, my dear, though I hope he has not taken a chill. You did not walk, Mr. Knightley?" he asked me.
"Of course I walked!" I said.
"You would have done better to use your carriage," said Mr. Woodhouse anxiously.
"What! Use the carriage on a fine night like this, a mild evening in September? What could be more pleasant than a walk of a mile to see old friends?"
"I cannot believe it was so very fine. It was misty this morning, was it not, Emma?" he asked querulously.
Emma and I exchanged glances, for he always says this when I arrive at Hartfield.
"Yes, it was, Papa, but the mist soon lifted. You must not concern yourself about Mr. Knightley. He is used to the walk, and it never does him any harm."
"Perry is not in favour of autumn walks. He has known them to lead to very bad colds," said Mr. Woodhouse.
I was about to remark that Perry’s opinion did not interest me when I thought better of it on account of Mr. Woodhouse’s advanced age, and besides, I did not want to distress Emma.
"But Mr. Knightley does not have so much as a cough," said Emma.
"Well, my dear, I am sure I am very thankful of it, but you must not think of coming out to see us again, Mr. Knightley, when the weather is so inclement."
"I was just about to ring for supper," said Emma, distracting his attention. His face lost its anxious look and settled into more harmonious lines. "You will take some with us?" she asked me.
"Yes, thank you," I said, as I sat down next to Miss Taylor.
I cannot help thinking it a pity that Emma has only an old man for company, especially as his habits have always made him appear even older than his years. When Miss Taylor leaves, Emma will be alone with him. Fortunately, she has a cheerful disposition and does not mind. Quite the contrary, she is only too pleased to see to his comfort, and to make sure he is happy.
"Is everything ready for the wedding?" I asked Miss Taylor.
"Yes, thank you," she said.
I hoped that talk of the wedding would cheer Mr. Woodhouse, but it only made him more anxious.
"Poor Miss Taylor," he said with a heavy sigh, as though she was about to be carried off by pneumonia, instead of by a respectable gentleman. "You will miss us all terribly. What a dreadful thing marriage is, to be sure."
"Come, now, you will hardly know she is gone!" I said rousingly. "She will be living no more than half a mile away, and you will see each other every day, either in the morning or in the evening."
"But it is not the same as having Miss Taylor in the house. She will have to leave her house to visit us, or we will have to leave ours to visit her. It will be a dreadful thing for the horses," he said sorrowfully.
"They will like the exercise," I said. Then, thinking there had been enough sighing, I went on: "I am going to London tomorrow. Do you have any commissions for me? Isabella is always eager to hear from her father and her sister."
"Will you take these letters to her?" said Emma, giving them to me. "And pray give her this cap. I made it for the baby."
"This is prettily done. Would you like me to take that one, too?" I asked, seeing another on her work-table.
"No, it is not finished, but no matter. I am making it in the next size. Little Emma will need it by the time Isabella visits us, I dare say."
"Ah, poor Isabella!" sighed Mr. Woodhouse. "It is a long time since we saw her and her children. I wish she would visit us more often. London is such an unhealthy place."
"But not Brunswick Square, Papa. Brunswick Square is a very healthy area. You know that Perry said so."
