Emma is very much amused. She rallies him on the flights of his fancy, which she would be sorry to check. There is no admiration. The appearances he has noticed proceed from peculiar circumstances she cannot explain. There is a good deal of nonsense in it all, but no two people can be farther from admiration or attachment—at least, she presumes it is so with Jane Fairfax. As to the gentleman’s indifference, Emma can answer for it. She is in gay spirits, which Mr. Knightley, in quitting her, does not at all share.
IV.
There are to be two expeditions to Box Hill, the one having given rise to the other. Mrs. Elton has organised an “exploring” picnic for her brother and sister, the Sucklings, of Maple Grove, with their barouche-landau. Emma and the Westons are to have something of the same description, but very different—quiet, unpretending, and elegant, in contrast to the fuss, ostentation, and regular eating and drinking of the first.
What is Emma’s disgust to find that Mr. Weston, in his incorrigible good nature, has proposed to unite the two parties, since Mrs. Elton had been deprived of the company of the Sucklings. Chagrin or no chagrin, Emma has to submit; and Mrs. Elton is impatient to settle about the pigeon pies and cold lamb, when a lame carriage-horse overthrows all calculation, and threatens a delay of weeks.
“Is not this most vexatious, Knightley?” Mrs. Elton appeals, with her characteristic freedom, to the Squire of Donwell. “Such weather for exploring!”
“You had better explore Donwell,” suggests the forbearing gentleman; “that may be done without horses. Come and eat my strawberries; they are ripening fast.”
If he has spoken in jest, he has to act in earnest, for the proposal is caught at with delight. Not only so; Mrs. Elton elects herself queen of the feast. “I am lady patroness, you know. It is my party. I will bring my friends with me.”
But the host is quite capable of repelling aggression. “I hope you will bring Elton,” he says, with courteous calmness; “but I will not trouble you to give any other invitation.”
Oh, he need not be afraid of delegating power to her. She is no young lady on preferment. Married women may be safely authorised. It is her party. Leave it all to her; she will invite the guests.
“No,” he calmly replies; “there is but one married woman in the world whom I can allow to invite what guests she pleases to Donwell, and that one is——”