CHAPTER I


　　The real evils, indeed, of Emma’s situation were the power of having rather too much her own way, and a disposition to think a little too well of herself; these were the disadvantages which threatened alloy to her many enjoyments. The danger, however, was at present so unperceived, that they did not by any means rank as misfortunes with her. Sorrow came——a gentle sorrow——but not at all in the shape of any disagreeable consciousness.——Miss Taylor married. It was Miss Taylor’s loss which first brought grief. It was on the wedding-day of this beloved friend that Emma first sat in mournful thought of any continuance. The wedding over, and the bride-people gone, her father and herself were left to dine together, with no prospect of a third to cheer a long evening. Her father composed himself to sleep after dinner, as usual, and she had then only to sit and think of what she had lost.

　　"Poor Miss Taylor!——I wish she were here again. What a pity it is that Mr. Weston ever thought of her!"
　"I cannot agree with you, papa; you know I cannot. Mr. Weston is such a good-humoured, pleasant, excellent man, that he thoroughly deserves a good wife;——and you would not have had Miss Taylor live with us for ever, and bear all my odd humours, when she might have a house of her own?"

　　"A house of her own!——But where is the advantage of a house of her own? This is three times as large.——And you have never any odd humours, my dear."

　　"How often we shall be going to see them, and they coming to see us!——We shall be always meeting! We must begin; we must go and pay wedding visit very soon."

　　"My dear, how am I to get so far? Randalls is such a distance. I could not walk half so far."

　　"No, papa, nobody thought of your walking. We must go in the carriage, to be sure."

　　"The carriage! But James will not like to put the horses to for such a little way;——and where are the poor horses to be while we are paying our visit?"

　　"But you must have found it very damp and dirty. I wish you may not catch cold."

　　"Dirty, sir! Look at my shoes. Not a speck on them."

　　"Well! that is quite surprising, for we have had a vast deal of rain here. It rained dreadfully hard for half an hour while we were at breakfast. I wanted them to put off the wedding."

　　"By the bye——I have not wished you joy. Being pretty well aware of what sort of joy you must both be feeling, I have been in no hurry with my congratulations; but I hope it all went off tolerably well. How did you all behave? Who cried most?"

　　"Ah! poor Miss Taylor! ’Tis a sad business."

　　"Poor Mr. and Miss Woodhouse, if you please; but I cannot possibly say `poor Miss Taylor.’ I have a great regard for you and Emma; but when it comes to the question of dependence or independence!——At any rate, it must be better to have only one to please than two."

　　"Especially when one of those two is such a fanciful, troublesome creature!" said Emma playfully. "That is what you have in your head, I know——and what you would certainly say if my father were not by."
"I believe it is very true, my dear, indeed," said Mr. Woodhouse, with a sigh. "I am afraid I am sometimes very fanciful and troublesome."

　　"My dearest papa! You do not think I could mean you, or suppose Mr. Knightley to mean you. What a horrible idea! Oh no! I meant only myself. Mr. Knightley loves to find fault with me, you know—— in a joke——it is all a joke. We always say what we like to one another."

　　Mr. Knightley, in fact, was one of the few people who could see faults in Emma Woodhouse, and the only one who ever told her of them: and though this was not particularly agreeable to Emma herself, she knew it would be so much less so to her father, that she would not have him really suspect such a circumstance as her not being thought perfect by every body.

　　"Emma knows I never flatter her," said Mr. Knightley, "but I meant no reflection on any body. Miss Taylor has been used to have two persons to please; she will now have but one. The chances are that she must be a gainer."