VOLUME III
11. CHAPTER XI
(continued)
"I do not wonder, Miss Woodhouse," she resumed, "that you should feel
a great difference between the two, as to me or as to any body.
You must think one five hundred million times more above me than
the other. But I hope, Miss Woodhouse, that supposing--that if--
strange as it may appear--. But you know they were your own words,
that more wonderful things had happened, matches of greater disparity
had taken place than between Mr. Frank Churchill and me; and, therefore,
it seems as if such a thing even as this, may have occurred before--
and if I should be so fortunate, beyond expression, as to--
if Mr. Knightley should really--if he does not mind the disparity,
I hope, dear Miss Woodhouse, you will not set yourself against it,
and try to put difficulties in the way. But you are too good for that,
I am sure."
Harriet was standing at one of the windows. Emma turned round
to look at her in consternation, and hastily said,
"Have you any idea of Mr. Knightley's returning your affection?"
"Yes," replied Harriet modestly, but not fearfully--"I must say
that I have."
Emma's eyes were instantly withdrawn; and she sat silently meditating,
in a fixed attitude, for a few minutes. A few minutes were sufficient
for making her acquainted with her own heart. A mind like hers,
once opening to suspicion, made rapid progress. She touched--
she admitted--she acknowledged the whole truth. Why was it
so much worse that Harriet should be in love with Mr. Knightley,
than with Frank Churchill? Why was the evil so dreadfully increased
by Harriet's having some hope of a return? It darted through her,
with the speed of an arrow, that Mr. Knightley must marry no one
but herself!
|