VOLUME III
7. CHAPTER VII
 (continued)
While waiting for the carriage, she found Mr. Knightley by her side.
 He looked around, as if to see that no one were near, and then said, 
"Emma, I must once more speak to you as I have been used to do:
 a privilege rather endured than allowed, perhaps, but I must still
 use it.  I cannot see you acting wrong, without a remonstrance.
 How could you be so unfeeling to Miss Bates?  How could you be so
 insolent in your wit to a woman of her character, age, and situation?--
 Emma, I had not thought it possible." 
Emma recollected, blushed, was sorry, but tried to laugh it off. 
"Nay, how could I help saying what I did?--Nobody could have helped it.
 It was not so very bad.  I dare say she did not understand me." 
"I assure you she did.  She felt your full meaning.  She has talked
 of it since.  I wish you could have heard how she talked of it--
 with what candour and generosity.  I wish you could have heard her
 honouring your forbearance, in being able to pay her such attentions,
 as she was for ever receiving from yourself and your father,
 when her society must be so irksome." 
"Oh!" cried Emma, "I know there is not a better creature in the world:
 but you must allow, that what is good and what is ridiculous are
 most unfortunately blended in her." 
"They are blended," said he, "I acknowledge; and, were she prosperous,
 I could allow much for the occasional prevalence of the ridiculous
 over the good.  Were she a woman of fortune, I would leave every
 harmless absurdity to take its chance, I would not quarrel with you
 for any liberties of manner.  Were she your equal in situation--
 but, Emma, consider how far this is from being the case.  She is poor;
 she has sunk from the comforts she was born to; and, if she live
 to old age, must probably sink more.  Her situation should secure
 your compassion.  It was badly done, indeed!  You, whom she had known
 from an infant, whom she had seen grow up from a period when her
 notice was an honour, to have you now, in thoughtless spirits,
 and the pride of the moment, laugh at her, humble her--and before
 her niece, too--and before others, many of whom (certainly some,)
 would be entirely guided by your treatment of her.--This is not
 pleasant to you, Emma--and it is very far from pleasant to me;
 but I must, I will,--I will tell you truths while I can;
 satisfied with proving myself your friend by very faithful counsel,
 and trusting that you will some time or other do me greater justice
 than you can do now." 
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