Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the tenth chapter of Emma by Jane Austen

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Welcome to Byte At a Time Books, where we read you your favorite classics one bite at a time.

My name is Brie Carlyle and I love to read and wanted to share my passion with listeners like you.

All of the links for our show are in the Show Notes.

Today we will be continuing Emma by Jane Austin chapter Ten Though now the middle of December, there had yet been no weather to prevent the young ladies from tolerably regular exercise, and on the Morrow Emma had a charitable visit to pay to a poor sick family who lived a little way out of Highbury.

Their road to this detached cottage was down Vicarage Lane, a Lane leading at right angles from the broad, though irregular main street of the place.

And as may be inferred containing the blessed abode of Mr.

Elton, a few inferior dwellings were first to be passed, and then, about a quarter of a mile down the Lane rose the Vike Ridge, an old and not very good house, almost as close to the road as it could be.

It had no advantage of situation, but had been very much smartened up by the present proprietor.

And such as it was, there could be no possibility of the two friends passing it without a slackened pace and observing eyes.

Emma's remark was, There it is.

There go you and your Riddle book.

One of these days Harriet's was, oh, what a sweet house, how very beautiful.

There are the yellow curtains that Miss Nash admires so much.

I do not often walk this way now, said Emma as they proceeded, but then there will be an inducement, and I shall gradually get intimately acquainted with all the hedges, gates, pools, and Pollards of this part of Highbury.

Harriet, she found, had never in her life been inside the Vike Ridge, and her curiosity to see it was so extreme that, considering exteriors and probabilities, Emma could only class it as a proof of love with Mr.

Elton.

Seeing ready witness her.

I wish we could contrive it, said she, but I cannot think of any tolerable pretense for going in.

No servant that I want to inquire about of his housekeeper.

No message from my father, she pondered, but could think of nothing.

After a mutual silence of some minutes, Harriet thus began again, I do so wonder, Miss Woodhouse, that you should not be married, or going to be married so charming as you are.

Emma laughed and replied, My being charming, Harriet, is not quite enough to induce me to marry.

I must find other people charming, one other person at least, and I am not only not going to be married at present, but have very little intention of ever marrying at all.

Ah, so you say, but I cannot believe it.

I must see somebody very superior to anyone.

I have seen yet to be tempted.

Mr.

Elton, you know, recollecting herself is out of the question, and I do not wish to see any such person.

I would rather not be tempted.

I cannot really change for the better.

If I were to marry, I must expect to repent it.

Dear me, it is so odd to hear a woman talk.

So I have none of the usual inducements of women to marry.

Were I to fall in love.

Indeed, it would be a different thing.

But I never have been in love.

It is not my way or my nature, and I do not think I ever shall.

And without love, I am sure I should be a fool to change such a situation as mine fortune.

I do not want employment.

I do not want consequence.

I do not want.

I believe few married women are half as much mistress of their husband's house as I am of Hartfield.

And never, never could I expect to be so truly beloved and important, so always first and always right in any man's eyes as I am in my father's.

But then to be an old maid at last, like Miss Bates, that is as formidable an image as you could present, Harriet.

And if I thought I should ever be like Miss Bates.

So silly, so satisfied, so smiling, so prosing, so undistinguishing and unfastidious, and so apt to tell everything relative to everybody about me.

I would marry tomorrow.

But between us I am convinced there never can be any likeness except in being unmarried.

But still you will be an old maid, and that's so dreadful.

Never mind, Harriet.

I shall not be a poor old maid.

And it is poverty only which makes celibacy contemptible to a generous public.

A single woman with a very narrow income must be a ridiculous disagreeable old maid.

The proper sport of boys and girls.

But a single woman of good fortune is always respectable, and may be as sensible and pleasant as anybody else.

And the distinction is not quite so much against the candor and common sense of the world as appears at first.

For a very narrow income has a tendency to contract the mind and sour the temper.

Those who can barely live and who live perforce in a very small and generally very inferior society may well be a Liberal and cross.

This does not apply, however, to Miss Bathes.

She is only too goodnatured and too silly to suit me.

But in general she is very much to the taste of everybody.

Though single and though poor, poverty certainly has not contracted her mind.

I really believe if she had only a shilling in the world, she would be very likely to give away six Pence of it.

And nobody is afraid of her.

That is a great charm, dear me.

But what shall you do?

How shall you employ yourself when you grow old?

If I know myself, Harriet, mine is an active, busy mind with a great many independent resources, and I do not perceive why I should be more in want of employment at 40 or 50 than one in 20.

Women's usual occupations of hand and mind will be as open to me then as they are now, or with no important variation.

If I draw less, I shall read more.

If I give up music, I shall take to carpet work and ask for objects of interest, objects for the affections which is in truth the great point of inferiority, the want of which is really the great evil to be avoided in not marrying.

I shall be very well off with all the children of a sister I love so much to care about.

There will be enough of them, in all probability, to supply every sort of sensation that declining life can need.

There will be enough for every hope and every fear.

And though my attachment to none can equal that of a parent, it suits my ideas of comfort better than what is warmer and blinder.

My nephews and niece's.

I shall often have a niece with me.

Do you know Ms.

Spades niece, that is.

I know you must have seen her a hundred times.

But are you acquainted?

Oh, yes.

We are always forced to be acquainted whenever she comes to Highbury.

But the boy, that is almost enough to put one out of conceit with a niece.

Heaven forbid, at least that I should ever bore.

People have so much about all the nightlies together as she does about Jane Fairfax.

One is sick of the very name of Jane Fairfax.

Every letter from her is read 40 times over.

Her compliments to all friends go round and round again, and if she does but send her aunt the pattern of a Stomacher or knit a pair of garters for her grandmother, one hears of nothing else for a month.

I wish Jane Fairfax very well, but she tires me to death.

They were now approaching the cottage, and all idle topics were superseded.

Emma was very compassionate, and the distresses of the poor were assured of relief from her personal attention and kindness, her counsel and her patience, as from her purse.

She understood their ways could allow for their ignorance and their temptations had no romantic expectations of extraordinary virtue from those whom education had done so little, entered into their troubles with ready sympathy, and always gave her assistance with as much intelligence as goodwill.

In the present instance, it was sickness and poverty together which she came to visit.

And after remaining there as long as she could give comfort or advice, she quitted the cottage with such an impression of the scene as made her stay to Harriet as they walked away.

These are the sights, Harriet, to do one good.

How trifling.

They make everything else appear.

I feel now as if I could think of nothing but these poor creatures all the rest of the day.

And yet who can say how soon it may all vanish from my mind?

Very true, said Harriet.

Poor creatures one can think of nothing else.

And really, I do not think the impression will soon be over, said Emma, as she crossed the low hedge and tottering footstep, which ended the narrow, slippery path through the cottage garden and brought them into the Lane again.

I do not think it will, stopping to look once more at the outward wretchedness of the place and recall the still greater within.

Oh dear, no, said her companion.

They walked on the Lane, made a slight bend, and when that bend was passed, Mr.

Elton was immediately in sight and so near us, to give Emma time only to say further, Ah, Harriet, here comes a very sudden trial of our stability and good thoughts.

Well, smiling, I hope it may be allowed that if compassion has produced exertion and relief to the sufferers, it has done all that is truly important.

If we feel for the wretched enough to do all we can for them, the rest is empty sympathy only distressing to ourselves.

Harriet could just answer, oh, dear, yes, before the gentleman joined them.

The wants and sufferings of the poor family, however, were the first subject on meeting.

He had been going to call on them his visit he would now defer, but they had a very interesting parlay about what could be done and should be done.

Mr.

Elton then turned back to accompany them, to fall in with each other on such an errand as this, thought Emma, to meet in a charitable scheme.

This will bring a great increase of love on each side.

I should not wonder if it were to bring on the declaration it must.

If I were not here, I wish I were anywhere else.

Anxious to separate herself from them as far as she could, she soon afterwards took possession of a narrow footpath, a little raised on one side of the Lane, leaving them together in the main road.

But she had not been there two minutes when she found that Harriet's habits of dependence and imitation were bringing her up too, and that, in short, they would both be soon after her.

This would not do.

She immediately stopped under pretense of having some alteration to make in the lacing of her half boot, and stooping down in complete occupation of the footpath, begged them to have the goodness to walk on, and she would follow in half a minute.

They did as they were desired, and by the time she judged it reasonable to have done with her boot, she had the comfort of further delay in her power being overtaken by a child from the cottage, setting out, according to orders, with her pitcher to fetch broth from Hartfield.

To walk by the side of this child and talk to and question her was the most natural thing in the world, or would have been the most natural had she been acting just then without design.

And by this means the others were still able to keep ahead without any obligation of waiting for her.

She gained on them, however, involuntarily the child's pace was quick, and there is rather slow, and she was the more concerned at it from there, being evidently in a conversation which interested them.

Mr.

Elton was speaking with animation, Harriet listening with a very pleased attention, and Emma, having sent the child on, was beginning to think how she might draw back a little more when they both looked around, and she was obliged to join them.

Mr.

Elton was still talking, still engaged in some interesting detail, and Emma experienced some disappointment when she found that he was only giving his fair companion an account of the yesterday's party at his friend Cole's, and that she was coming herself for the Stilton cheese, the North Wiltshire, the butter, the celery, the beetroot, and all the dessert.

This would soon have led to something better, of course, was her consoling reflection.

Anything interests between those who love and anything will serve as introduction to what is near the heart.

If I could but have kept longer away.

They now walked on together quietly to within view of the Vike Ridge pales, when a sudden resolution of at least getting Harriet into the house made her again find something very much amiss about her boots, and fall behind to arrange it once more.

She then broke the lace off short indexterously, throwing it into a ditch, was presently obliged to entreat them to stop, and acknowledging her inability to put herself to rights so as to be able to walk home intolerable comfort.

Part of my lace is gone, said she, and I do not know how I am to contrive.

I really am a most troublesome companion to you both, but I hope I am not often so illequipped.

Mr.

Elton, I must beg leave to stop at your house and ask your housekeeper for a bit of ribbon or string or anything, just to keep my boot on.

Mr.

Elton looked all happiness at this proposition, and nothing could exceed his alertness and attention in conducting them into his house, and endeavoring to make everything appear to advantage.

The room they were taken into was one he chiefly occupied, and looking forwards.

Behind it was another with which it immediately communicated.

The door between them was open, and Emma passed into it with the housekeeper to receive her assistance in the most comfortable manner.

She was obliged to leave the door ajar as she found it, but she fully intended that Mr.

Elton should close it.

It was not closed, however.

It still remained ajar, but by engaging the housekeeper in incessant conversation she hoped to make it practicable for him to choose his own subject in the adjoining room.

For ten minutes she could hear nothing but herself.

It could be protracted no longer.

She then obliged to be finished and make her appearance.

The lovers were standing together at one of the windows.

It had a most favorable aspect and for half a minute Emma felt the glory of having schemed successfully.

But it would not do.

He had not come to the point.

He had been most agreeable, most delightful.

He had told Harriet that he had seen them go by and had purposely followed them.

Other little gallon trees and illusions had been dropped, but nothing serious.

Cautious, very cautious, thought Emma.

He advances inch by inch and will hazard nothing till he believes himself secure.

Still, however, though everything had not been accomplished by her ingenious device, she could not but flatter herself that it had been the occasion of much present enjoyment to both and must be leading them forward to the great event.

Thank you for joining Bite At A Time Books today while we read a bite of one of your favorite classics, all of the links for our show are in the show notes.

We are part of the Bike At A Time Books Productions network.

If you ever wondered what inspired your favorite classic novelist to write their stories, what was happening in their lives or the world at the time, check out Byte At A Time books behind the story Tuesdays wherever You Listened podcasts again.