Emma (1972–…): Season 1, Episode 2 - Episode #1.2 - full transcript
Emma has befriended Harriet Smith, a young teacher. Although an inveterate matchmaker, she has encouraged Harriet to reject Robert Martin.
(BELL RINGS)
- There you are, Father.
- Thank you, my dear, thank you.
I shall not go far.
- Good morning, Emma. Sir.
- Good morning, Mr Knightley.
Perhaps you could tell me
what the weather is like.
Should I be unwise to venture
to the end of the drive?
It's confoundedly mild. I can hardly believe
that we shall soon have Christmas upon us.
But there's time enough for a change,
I'm afraid. We could have snow yet.
Snow? Oh, Papa!
You mark my word, my dear.
It's a treacherous season.
If the roads are too bad,
let us hope that Isabella will have the wisdom
not to attempt to drive from London!
But, Papa, it is only 16 miles.
Everybody will have visitors this Christmas. You'll
have my brother. Miss Bates will have her niece.
Mr Weston will have his son Frank,
if he condescends to come. I shall have nobody.
- Never mind. You will always be welcome here.
- Thank you, Emma.
Perhaps if you are not already
too fatigued by your walk,
you would care to accompany me.
Nothing would give me greater pleasure,
but, if you will excuse me,
I have something I wish to tell Emma.
Oh, very well.
In that case I'd better take my three turns
upon the terrace by myself.
Forgive my rudeness in leaving you.
We invalids like to think ourselves
privileged people, you know.
- Well, Emma!
- Well, Mr Knightley, and what is your news?
I believe that your little friend Harriet Smith
will soon hear something
very much to her advantage.
Harriet? What makes you say that?
I can't rate her beauty as highly as you do,
but in good hands she should turn out
an admirable young woman.
I'm glad you think so. And those hands
will not be wanting, I'm quite sure.
I admit that you have improved her. You've cured
her schoolgirl's giggle already. It does you credit.
Mr Knightley! I am overwhelmed. But let me hear
this news that will be so greatly to her advantage.
I have reason to believe that
she will very soon receive an offer of marriage.
Oh?
Robert Martin is the man. Her visit to the farm
this summer the cause. He's in love.
Means to marry her. Is that not a splendid thing?
He is very obliging. But is he so sure
that Harriet means to marry him?
He intends to make her an offer. He came
to see me to ask me what I thought of the notion.
I thought her an admirable young woman
within her own limitations
and advised him to press the match,
which I expect he will do.
How do you know he has not done so?
What?
I will tell you something, Mr Knightley,
in return for what you have so kindly told me.
Mr Robert Martin did speak yesterday.
That is to say, he wrote and was refused.
- Refused? I can't believe it!
- Nevertheless it's quite true, I'm afraid.
That girl must be a greater simpleton
than I thought her.
I realise it is impossible
for a man to believe a woman could refuse an
offer of marriage from whatever quarter it comes!
- Oh, nonsense. A man believes no such thing!
- Oh, yes, Mr Knightley.
Harriet Smith refuse Robert Martin?
But why? I can't believe it.
- You're mistaken. You must be.
- Nevertheless I have seen the letter.
- You mean you saw her answer, did you?
- I did.
- And wrote it too, I'll be bound.
- No. Well, not all of it.
- Emma, this is all your doing.
- And what if it is?
Mr Robert Martin may be an excellent young man
in many ways, but he is not Harriet's equal.
He's as much her superior in sense
as he is in station!
You've allowed your ridiculous infatuation
for this girl to blind you.
That is your opinion. It is not mine.
What is Harriet Smith? A parlour-boarder at
a girls' school. She has no family, no connection.
That is not her fault! It is her misfortune.
Let me continue. She is pretty and she has
an amiable nature, but she's not a sensible girl.
She has little or no information.
When Robert Martin came to tell me,
I thought, "Even Emma, with all her partiality
for Harriet, must see that this is a good match."
Really,
I cannot help wondering at your still knowing
so little of me as to say such a thing.
If Elton is the man that you have in mind for her,
I very much fear that it will be a labour in vain.
He's not the kind of man
to make an imprudent match of this kind.
You think it would be imprudent
for a man of Mr Elton's station
to marry a girl in Harriet Smith's position?
- Is that right?
- I do.
Then let me say at once, Mr Knightley,
that I consider an engagement
to Mr Robert Martin would not be a match.
It would be a degradation.
- In that case, I will bid you good morning.
- Good morning.
Yet I fear it's not as pleasant as it looks.
There's a harsh and treacherous wind
that catches one as one crosses the terrace.
I shall certainly not go again this...
How very strange!
Did you never collect riddles and conundrums,
Miss Woodhouse? I can scarcely believe it!
I did at one time, certainly, but I think
I abandoned the habit when I left the school.
- I have over a hundred now!
- Indeed, have you?
Of course, you will learn, Harriet,
that the exchanging of riddles and verses
is a very fair way for a shy young man
to express his feelings
without the embarrassment
of an open declaration.
Here is one by Mrs Goddard,
but I can never make out the meaning.
(KNOCKING)
- Mr Elton.
- Mr Elton! What a pleasure!
Miss Woodhouse. Miss Smith. I have the honour
to complete my commission on your behalf.
- Harriet's portrait!
- Miss Woodhouse! Does not the frame set it off?
Yes, it does. It does indeed.
- Thank you, Mr Elton! We are all in your debt.
- Not at all, Miss Woodhouse.
But do let me set it down somewhere,
so that we may all stand back and admire it!
In my opinion
it would be an adornment to any room.
Whether that is meant
as a compliment to the artist or to the sitter,
I think we need not enquire, Mr Elton.
Do join us for one moment.
I won't detain you ladies now. You must be busy.
Besides, I have some parish visits to make.
You promised to write something
in Harriet's book!
- I, Miss Woodhouse?
- Yes, you did, Mr Elton!
No, Miss Smith. I said
that I was no maker of elegant verses.
Oh, Harriet! I took Mr Elton
to be a man of his word. Did not you?
Oh, but he is, Miss Woodhouse.
I'm quite sure he is really.
It is just that he has forgot his promise.
No, I did not forget.
As a matter of fact, I have here a little verse,
written by a friend, that might amuse you.
- A friend of yours, Mr Elton?
- Yes.
- May I see?
- Yes, of course.
It is not mine to offer to Miss Smith's collection,
but it might just entertain you for a moment.
Please take it if you wish.
Good afternoon to you ladies.
Thank you, Mr Elton.
(WHISPERS) Not at all.
Miss Woodhouse, I... I cannot make it out!
- Here, you take this.
- No, it is yours.
Oh, please, Miss Woodhouse! You must help me!
Very well, then.
A charade, to Miss... Blank.
Well, we know who that is!
My first displays the wealth and pomp of kings,
Lords of the earth! Their luxury and ease.
Another view of man, my second brings,
Behold him there! The monarch of the seas!
- Miss Woodhouse!
- There is another verse.
But, ah, united, what reverse we have!
Man's boasted power and freedom, all are flown;
Lord of the earth and sea, he bends a slave,
And woman, lovely woman, reigns alone.
- What does it mean?
- That is not the end.
- Please tell me! What does it mean?
- Harriet, please!
Thy ready wit the word will soon supply,
May its approval beam in that soft eye!
- Oh, Miss Woodhouse! What is it?
- Well, think, Harriet!
Yes, Miss Woodhouse.
Thy ready wit the word will soon supply!
Is it... mermaid, Miss Woodhouse?
No, Harriet, it is not mermaid.
Then... it is shark?
- It cannot be shark. That is only one syllable.
- Yes, Harriet.
Woman! Is it woman, do you think?
- Miss Woodhouse, is it good? Is it well wrote?
- Written, Harriet.
Mr Elton's friend must be a very clever man,
must he not?
Yes, very clever.
My first displays the wealth and pomp of kings,
Lords of the earth! their luxury and ease.
That should be "court".
Yes, of course! That must be it.
Court! Go on, Miss Woodhouse.
Another view of man, my second brings,
Behold him there, the monarch of the seas!
That's "ship"! Plain as plain!
Ship, Miss Woodhouse?
Yes, I see! That's right. Ship!
So you see the word now, do you not?
Let me think.
Come, come, Harriet! Court and ship.
Courtship.
Courtship? Is that the word?
Yes, Harriet, that is the word.
(WHISPERS) Courtship.
Oh, Miss Woodhouse!
Oh, goodness!
May its approval beam in that soft eye!
This is so particular and pointed a compliment
that nobody could be in the slightest doubt
as to its meaning.
Harriet, you are a very, very fortunate girl.
But he said it was written by his friend,
did he not?
That was just a polite deception
which even you cannot take seriously.
Goodness! Goodness me!
This is an attachment
that will give you everything.
Consideration, independence
and a proper home.
It will confirm our friendship,
yours and mine, forever, will it not?
Yes, Miss Woodhouse. That would bring me
as much happiness as anything. Truly it would!
Dear sweet Harriet.
Fancy, that... that Mr Elton
should be in love with me, of all people,
who did not even know him to speak to
at Michaelmas!
You see how your fortunes have changed!
I well remember the very first time I saw him!
The Miss Martins and I ran into the front room
and peeped through the blind as he was going by!
Mrs Goddard came in and scolded us
and stayed to look herself.
Oh, how beautiful he looked, I remember!
Arm in arm with Mr Cole from the livery stable!
Yes, he is quite a handsome man, certainly.
There is no question of it.
I must copy it in at once and then I shall never let
my riddle book out of my hands again!
Never!
Really, Harriet, you must not put too much
significance upon a mere charade.
But you just said yourself...
Yes, I know, and in my opinion
it can have only one meaning,
but you must not betray your feelings
quite so openly.
Must I not, Miss Woodhouse?
But come! Let us go poor-visiting!
I think we would do well to get a little fresh air!
But suppose he should come back.
Mr Elton! For his charade.
Then he will find we have gone out, will he not?
Yes. I suppose so.
If he is the man that I suspect him to be
he will come in search of us,
which should not present too much difficulty
because Williams knows that
this is my day for visiting old Mrs Penny.
Yes, Miss Woodhouse.
- Are you tired, Harriet?
- No, not in the least bit, thank you.
Then shall we go the long way round,
past the church and up Vicarage Lane?
- May we, Miss Woodhouse?
- Of course.
One day, Harriet, Vicarage Lane will be
the most familiar place in the world to you.
You and your riddle book.
Miss Woodhouse, I do so wonder that... you have
not married yourself, so charming as you are.
Thank you, Harriet.
My being charming, as you're kind enough
to call me, has really nothing to do with it.
I must find other people charming,
one other at least.
I am afraid I have very little intention of marrying.
Goodness! It... it is strange to hear
a woman talk so, Miss Woodhouse.
I have none of the usual inducements to marry.
I do not lack fortune,
consequence or employment.
But, most important of all,
I have never been in love.
Miss Woodhouse!
Few married women are as much mistresses
of their husbands' houses as I am of my father's.
And if I cannot make a change for the better,
I have no intention of doing so for the worse!
But to become an old maid, like Miss Bates?
That is a truly formidable argument,
Harriet, I do admit.
Poor Miss Bates, boring us all with the virtues
of her nephews and nieces!
If her precious Jane Fairfax sends her the pattern
for a stomacher or knits herself a pair of garters,
- we must all hear about it!
- Miss Woodhouse!
No, a single woman with a very narrow income
must always appear somewhat ridiculous.
- Miss Woodhouse!
- A narrow income contracts the mind.
But a single woman of good fortune
is always respectable
and as sensible and pleasant as anybody else.
- Miss Woodhouse, please!
- It may not be justice, but it is the truth, I fear.
He's there behind us. Mr Elton.
Then let us walk on as before,
Harriet, but not too quickly.
Miss Woodhouse!
- Mr Elton!
- Miss Woodhouse. Miss Smith.
Forgive me following you like this.
I forgot to pay my respects to your father when
I called, and I would happily call this evening...
We should be delighted to see you at any time,
you know that.
...only I had engaged myself to Mr Cole.
- What a pity!
- It could be broken, of course.
- No, no, please don't do that. Another time.
But you will be wanting back your charade...
Your friend's charade. Harriet?
Oh. Yes, Miss Woodhouse.
- Well, at any time that's convenient.
- We both think it's excellent, quite excellent.
- Harriet would like to transcribe it into her book.
- Yes, Miss Woodhouse.
Thank you. My friend will be honoured, I'm sure.
Your friend must be a man of some wit, Mr Elton.
- Will you walk with us?
- Of course.
- Bother it!
- What is the matter?
Merely that I have broken my bootlace.
I felt it go just now.
May I be of some assistance?
Thank you, Mr Elton, but I hardly think that is
an office a gentleman can very well perform.
I beg your pardon.
If you will be so good
as to stroll on with Miss Smith,
I shall join you
as soon as I have overcome my little difficulty.
Of course.
(FIRE CRACKLES)
(CLOCK TICKS)
Williams, there you are!
Is everything prepared for their arrival?
Yes, Mr Woodhouse, long ago!
Good fires in the bedrooms? Some warm soup!
They'll have had a dreadful journey, poor things!
But why, Papa? It is only a short distance
and the weather is most kind.
It may turn to rain
and then the poor horses are bound to slip!
Please do not distress yourself so, Papa.
Those poor children!
They'll be exhausted, my dear.
It's Isabella I'm worried about.
She's like your poor dear mother used to be.
She suffers dreadfully on a long carriage journey.
Nonsense, Papa.
Now, you sit there, warm by the fire,
and I will be there when they arrive.
(HORSE AND CART APPROACH)
They're here. They have come!
Williams! Williams!
Oh, what a mercy! They're safe!
- Emma! Emma, how delightful it is to be back!
- Isabella!
Yet it seems strange
without Miss Taylor to greet us.
- Mrs Weston, my love. Hello, Emma.
- Hello, Mr John.
- Say hello to your aunt.
- Never mind! They want to stretch their legs.
- Williams! Take Mary up to the nursery.
- Very good, Miss Woodhouse.
- Hello, Bella.
- Hello, Auntie Emma.
Henry! John!
Go up to your rooms at once,
take off your coats and wash your hands.
(BOYS) Yes, Papa.
When you have brushed your hair, you may
come down again. No horseplay in the passages!
No, Papa.
Ah, my child! My poor, poor child!
What a terrible journey you must have had.
And the baby! What has happened to the baby?
It is all right, Papa. Mary has taken her upstairs.
John, my dear fellow! How are you?
Tolerably well, considering I've just been shut up
for hours with those two young hooligans of ours!
Where are the boys? Poor little fellows!
They must be exhausted after their journey,
I'm sure. Come in!
So exhausted
we could scarcely hear ourselves speak!
- Get yourselves warm!
- It's so good to be back.
As I was saying to Emma, Hartfield hardly seems
the same without dear Miss Taylor.
- Mrs Weston, my love.
- Poor Miss Taylor!
Yes, that was a grievous business indeed!
Most grievous.
- But you see her often still, I hope?
- No, hardly ever. It is most sad.
Papa! She has been here every day but one
since they came home.
Has she? If you say so, I suppose,
but she is always obliged to go away again!
Never mind. You will all be meeting very shortly,
because Mr and Mrs Weston and Mr Knightley
are dining with us this evening.
- Thank you. In the drawing room, are they?
- Yes, sir. Excepting Miss Woodhouse.
- Where is Miss Emma?
- Upstairs, sir, in the nursery with the baby.
Is she?
Thank you, Williams.
(KNOCK AT DOOR)
May I come in?
Just one moment, please.
You may come in now, Mr Knightley.
I was told that you were up here.
May I see her?
There. Is she not a pretty girl?
Is she not a beauty?
Say good evening to your Uncle Knightley, miss.
Say good evening.
Good evening, little Emma.
She's one thing that we have in common,
you and I.
What a comfort it is we think alike
about our nephews and nieces, Mr Knightley!
As to our opinions of men and women,
they do not always quite coincide.
On the subject of children, that is never the case.
If your judgement of men and women were
as sound as it is now, we should never disagree.
So our disagreements must always arise
from my being in the wrong, Mr Knightley?
- Is that so?
- Yes, it would appear so.
Indeed.
The reason is not far to see.
I was 16 when you were born.
I have no doubt as to your being very much
my superior in judgement then, I grant you.
But it was 21 years ago, remember.
Circumstances have altered a little since then.
Yes, but I still have the advantage
of 16 years' experience, don't forget,
and by not being a pretty,
overindulged young woman.
Come, my dear Emma.
Let us be friends again, hmm?
Little Emma, you tell your aunt that
she ought to be setting you a better example
than by renewing old grievances,
and that if she weren't wrong before,
then she is now, eh?
That is true, very true.
There, little Emma.
You grow up a better woman than your aunt!
Be much cleverer and not half so conceited.
You look a little pale, my love.
I'm sure the air of London doesn't suit you.
Why don't you let Perry
give you a thorough examination?
But I'm already in the hands
of Mr Wingfield in London
and he understands my constitution perfectly.
- But was it not he who prescribed sea-bathing?
- Yes, it was most beneficial to the whole family.
Perry has no faith in sea-bathing. In his opinion,
with some constitutions it may be harmful.
But it did the children a great deal of good!
If you must go to the sea,
it had much better not have been Southend.
Oh? Why not, pray?
Perry was must surprised that you had gone
there. He considers it an unhealthy place.
Southend unhealthy?
Then where does Mr Perry recommend?
My dear, you should have gone to Cromer!
- Cromer?
- Of all bathing places, he considers it the best.
A fine open sea, Perry says, and very pure air.
There were some new timbers
for the roof at the Mill farm.
New roof timbers? You are an indulgent landlord!
Young Martin's a very good tenant.
He farms the land well. He deserves it.
Yes, Emma dear, we are really hopeful that Frank
will be with us by Christmas Eve at the latest.
- Is that not good news?
- Most excellent news!
So, we hope to see you all
at Randalls to greet him.
Better to stay in London
than to travel 40 miles to get into worse air!
- But, Father...
- Perry said it seemed a very ill-judged measure!
- He should keep his opinion until it is asked for!
- John!
Why is it any business of his to wonder at what
I do? I want his opinion no more than his drugs!
Papa? Papa.
Mr and Mrs Weston have asked that
we should dine at Randalls on Christmas Eve.
- Is that not kind?
- Dine at Randalls on Christmas Eve? Oh, dear!
If Mr Perry can tell me how to convey a wife
and three children, not to mention a nursemaid,
a distance of 130 miles
at no greater expense or inconvenience than 40,
I should be extremely obliged to him.
John dear, please!
By then he hopes his son Frank will really be
with us at last. Is that not so, Mr Weston?
I think Miss Emma betrays an interest, eh?
I must admit, though I do say it myself,
he's a mighty handsome young lad these days.
I am quite sure he is. Why should he not be?
D'you hear that, my love? Thank you, my dear!
Miss Bates has her niece coming, so we shall
have plenty of young people to liven us up.
Ah, sweet Jane Fairfax! How is she? I've heard
no mention of her in your letters, Emma.
Is she still with her friends at Weymouth?
You will not hear much of Jane Fairfax
from Emma. You should know that, my love.
So you don't care for competition where
the young gentlemen are concerned? Is that it?
I am sure I do not know why Mr John should give
the impression I do not care for Miss Fairfax.
I have always maintained
that she has great beauty.
But a cold and haughty manner, is that not right?
She is reserved, certainly.
Yes, I think perhaps I do prefer
a more open nature. That is quite true.
And Miss Bates? How is poor, dear,
good-hearted Miss Bates these days?
Dear Miss Bates is much as usual. I think
we all of us know what that means, do we not?
Jane Fairfax is certainly a comely, handsome girl.
But Emma's new friend Harriet Smith is just
such another pretty young person, in my opinion.
Who, for goodness' sake, is Harriet Smith?
Poor Harriet!
But let it be some comfort to you that Mr and
Mrs Weston extended their most cordial welcome.
Miss Woodhouse, I am so disappointed!
I could weep!
Never mind! Another time will come.
But it won't! I know it won't!
Do not be so foolish. Of course it will!
But you are in no condition to go anywhere. You
have a fever and I think Perry should see you.
Miss Woodhouse, I'm sorry to be so tiresome
when... when you've been so kind,
but I really am so dreadfully disappointed!
Poor Harriet.
But I have a fancy that you are not going to be
the only one to be disappointed, Harriet.
- What do you mean, Miss Woodhouse?
- You will not be one of the party this evening.
No.
I have a feeling that someone, I will not say who,
is going to be very much out of countenance when
he sees your empty place at the table tonight!
- Mr Elton?
- Miss Woodhouse!
- Were you going to enquire after Harriet?
- Yes, I had heard she'd taken cold.
That is kind. Poor Harriet. I'm afraid there is no
possibility of her going to Randalls this evening.
Oh, dear. I am extremely sorry to hear that.
Her cold is feverish and her throat much inflamed.
A sore throat? Not infectious, I hope?
Not of a putrid kind? Has Perry seen her?
I believe Mrs Goddard has sent for him, but thank
you for your concern, Mr Elton. It's most kind.
Not at all.
Oh, dear! Poor Harriet!
I almost envy her being unable to go out tonight.
It's turned so cold all of a sudden.
If I were you, Mr Elton, I would take this
opportunity to excuse myself and stay indoors.
- But Mrs Weston...
- You have a busy day tomorrow.
I'm sure Mrs Weston would quite understand,
under the circumstances.
Miss Woodhouse, I can assure you nothing
will prevent me from attending the party tonight.
- But I thought...
- Emma! Whoa, back there, steady!
- Mr John!
- Emma, jump in!
- Thank you, but...
- This is no weather to be out walking.
Sorry, Elton. We meet this evening, eh?
Hup, good boy!
Never have I met a man more intent on making
himself agreeable where ladies are concerned!
- Mr Elton?
- With men he can be quite simple and rational.
But with ladies, I confess he makes my boot itch.
His manners are not perfect, I admit,
but he has a great degree of goodwill.
Towards you, certainly.
- Towards me?
- That's what I said.
Are you imagining me to be Mr Elton's object?
Such an imagination had crossed my mind, I own.
- What an absurd idea!
- I think not.
Think about it and regulate your conduct
towards him as a consequence.
- My conduct to Mr Elton?
- I speak as a friend.
Really! I do not understand
what you can possibly mean.
Oh? Very well.
Thank you, my dear, thank you. That's it.
Oh, my stick.
Could you... Thank you, dear.
You go on with Emma and Isabella, sir.
The rest of us will follow.
For once I agree with the old gentleman.
Four horses and four servants
to convey five people who would rather stay at
home than go out in weather that threatens snow.
- What is that?
- Father, we don't want the horses to get cold.
Oh, no, no, not indeed!
How very like you, my dear, to think of it!
The ladies in the first carriage
with Mr Woodhouse.
George and I will follow in the other
and call on Miss Bates and Elton.
Come in, all of you!
This dreadful weather!
I thought I saw a fleck of snow,
but the girls assured me it was not.
No, we shall not have snow,
you may depend upon it.
But I have a disappointment for Emma.
- For me?
- My son Frank cannot be with us.
What a shame! Not bad news, I hope?
No, simply that he has
a great many engagements these days.
- But he will make the journey in the new year.
- Indeed I hope so.
Yes, he's been hoping to come to us
since September. Every letter's been full of it.
But he cannot command his own time.
He has to please those who may be pleased only
by a great many sacrifices. Is it not so, my love?
- I am afraid so, my dear.
- But I've no doubt of seeing him in January.
That is his intention, certainly.
So, what with Frank and your pretty little friend
Miss Smith, we shall be two short, I'm afraid.
Miss Bates's niece cannot be with us either.
I'd forgot. Miss Fairfax. We must make
what cheer we can without them, eh, Emma?
You and I will not sit by with long faces, eh?
- No, indeed, we shall not, Mr Weston.
- No, no!
I will... I will retain my muffler for a while,
if nobody objects.
An old man's privilege, you know.
Oh, she does write such a beautiful hand!
A fine, clear, bold hand, I would call it!
I say, does she not write a very fine hand,
my niece Jane?
- You have remarked upon it yourself, Emma.
- I do not recall having done so, Miss Bates.
Now, where did I put that letter?
I read it again to Mother just now.
Here it is!
Oh, no, it was not so long!
It was quite short, in fact!
As a rule, she does not write a short letter.
She covers a whole page and then crosses it!
My mother often wonders that I can read it!
"Hetty," she says, "I don't know
how you can make out such chequer-work!"
Ah, here it is!
I knew I had it with me.
Father!
The others are busy with their port-wine
so I thought I would join the ladies.
- May he?
- Of course he may.
- Take the chair opposite the fire.
- Thank you.
I must confess that I find the company of ladies
infinitely more to my liking. Thank you.
I was just telling Emma I received a letter
this afternoon from my niece Jane Fairfax.
Such a delightful letter! I do not know
anyone to equal Jane as a correspondent.
Ah. Good, I see that I'm not the first.
May I join you and Miss Woodhouse,
Mrs Weston?
- If Miss Woodhouse has no objection.
- Thank you, ladies.
I suppose you've had no further news
of Miss Smith? I had no time to call in there.
You might persuade Miss Woodhouse
not to venture into the sickroom.
Always so careless of her own safety! Please do
give me your support in forbidding her to do so!
- I have no influence upon her these days.
- I should think not, indeed!
Then I shall have to issue the prohibition myself!
Miss Woodhouse, I cannot allow you
to run the risk of a putrid infection
that might have serious consequences
upon your health.
I fail to see by what right
you make such a statement!
Ah!
You might all be interested to learn that it is
snowing hard and the ground is already white!
The children! I must get home at once!
This should be something new
for your coachman and horses, sir, a snowstorm!
- A snowstorm?
- Emma! Father! Mrs Weston, I'm extremely sorry.
- John dear, you should order the carriages!
- Very well, my dear, if you think so.
If it has been snowing all the while
we shall never get home!
No need for hurry! An hour's snow
will hardly make the road completely impassable.
Besides, if one carriage is overset
then there is always the other!
That is the joy of it!
Weston and I have been out as far as the gate.
There's very little yet.
And easing off already. It is nothing at all!
I'm not going to stay another moment. Off you go.
Not leaving us already? It is not yet ten o'clock!
I'm extremely sorry, Mr Weston.
Such a delightful evening! John dear! John dear!
I'm so sorry, Mrs Weston.
May I fetch you your cloak?
- No, thank you.
- Allow me.
- Thank you, Mr Elton, but it is upstairs.
- Yes, of course.
I am afraid we shall have a very bad drive,
very bad.
- Isabella will not like it. She's nervous.
- Father!
I don't know what you're all in such a hurry for.
We've got two spare rooms, one for
the gentlemen, one for the ladies! Eh, m'dear?
- Father, do be quick, please.
- Sir, let me take your arm.
Thank you, my dear fellow.
I am so afraid of slipping.
- Elton? You coming with us?
- No, no room. I'll come in the second carriage.
- Take my place if you wish.
- No, I wouldn't dream of it. No, I insist.
I'm so sorry! After all the trouble you've taken.
It makes one wonder whether it is wise
to venture out at all at this time of year!
- Goodbye.
- Goodbye Miss Bates. Goodnight, Mr Knightley.
There you are, my dear!
You won't have to go alone, you have an escort.
Yes. Thank you, Mrs Weston. I am sorry
about this, but you know my father and Isabella.
Of course, my dear, I quite understand.
Thank you, Emma.
Goodbye, safe journey. Mr Elton.
Goodbye! Safe journey.
It still snows a little, I see.
Really, I can scarcely imagine
how he manages to find his way, poor man.
It is fortunate the journey is so short...
- Mr Elton!
- Miss Woodhouse.
- How can I express my passion?
- Mr Elton!
Miss Woodhouse, say that I may hope.
Say that I may. If you do not, I shall die.
This to me, sir! You forget yourself!
I do not. Indeed I do not.
Oh, Miss Woodhouse!
Beautiful, adorable Miss Woodhouse!
- So elegant! So proud!
- Control yourself, Mr Elton!
- Forgive me! You're irresistible!
- Mr Elton!
Quite irresistible!
Really, sir!
I must ask you to behave yourself.
I quite understand
that when a gentleman has had
a glass or two of wine, he is not quite himself.
Very well. I am not one to tell tales.
If you give me your word of honour
that this does not occur again,
I will not breathe a word of it to Miss Smith.
- Is that understood?
- Miss Smith? What is she to do with it?
- Surely...
- Miss Smith is nothing to me. You know that.
- Indeed I do not!
- Oh, charming Miss Woodhouse!
You know quite well my feelings for you,
else why have you encouraged me so?
- I encourage you?
- Certainly!
Mr Elton, I think you must be out of your mind!
Of course you have, repeatedly.
First the charade, which you were happy
to accept from me. Remember?
- I, sir?
- Yes, you.
And the picture frame,
which cost me a day's journey to London.
- The picture frame?
- For your exquisite drawing.
- But my drawing was of Miss Smith.
- But the artist was you.
Then it has not been Miss Smith at all?
I never thought of her. If she imagined otherwise,
then it is her own wishes that have misled her.
Everything I have done and said has been
for you alone. I'm sure you don't mistake me...
- Keep away, sir!
- Charming Miss Woodhouse!
Confess this coquettish attitude
permits me to believe that you do feel something!
No, sir, it does not! It does nothing of the sort!
If I had thought that your pursuit
of poor Miss Smith had been...
My pursuit of Miss Smith?
Yes, Mr Elton, pursuit.
Really, madam, I can scarcely understand you.
Everyone has his own level,
- but I am hardly at such a loss...
- That is enough!
- Let me finish.
- No, sir, I shall not.
I see we are almost at your door.
I would be very much obliged if you would
allow me to continue my journey alone, please.
Very well. If you wish.
Mr Elton!
I have no thoughts of matrimony at present.
Goodnight, sir.
Goodnight, madam.
What an experience!
Dreadful! Dreadful!
That is the last time I shall venture out
in the evenings until the spring!
I hear the other carriage!
John, open the door, please.
Thank goodness! She is safe!
I didn't dare think about her in the hands
of a Hackney coachman. James is so careful.
Excellent, excellent! We had visions of you
flung into a snowdrift with Elton!
Now, then!
We'll all have a good warm bowl of gruel.
- What do you think, Emma?
- Not for me, thank you, Father.
- My dear, you must! It'll make you sleep.
- Excuse me. Goodnight.
Oh, dear! What is the matter
with everybody these days?
Synchro: Peterlin
- There you are, Father.
- Thank you, my dear, thank you.
I shall not go far.
- Good morning, Emma. Sir.
- Good morning, Mr Knightley.
Perhaps you could tell me
what the weather is like.
Should I be unwise to venture
to the end of the drive?
It's confoundedly mild. I can hardly believe
that we shall soon have Christmas upon us.
But there's time enough for a change,
I'm afraid. We could have snow yet.
Snow? Oh, Papa!
You mark my word, my dear.
It's a treacherous season.
If the roads are too bad,
let us hope that Isabella will have the wisdom
not to attempt to drive from London!
But, Papa, it is only 16 miles.
Everybody will have visitors this Christmas. You'll
have my brother. Miss Bates will have her niece.
Mr Weston will have his son Frank,
if he condescends to come. I shall have nobody.
- Never mind. You will always be welcome here.
- Thank you, Emma.
Perhaps if you are not already
too fatigued by your walk,
you would care to accompany me.
Nothing would give me greater pleasure,
but, if you will excuse me,
I have something I wish to tell Emma.
Oh, very well.
In that case I'd better take my three turns
upon the terrace by myself.
Forgive my rudeness in leaving you.
We invalids like to think ourselves
privileged people, you know.
- Well, Emma!
- Well, Mr Knightley, and what is your news?
I believe that your little friend Harriet Smith
will soon hear something
very much to her advantage.
Harriet? What makes you say that?
I can't rate her beauty as highly as you do,
but in good hands she should turn out
an admirable young woman.
I'm glad you think so. And those hands
will not be wanting, I'm quite sure.
I admit that you have improved her. You've cured
her schoolgirl's giggle already. It does you credit.
Mr Knightley! I am overwhelmed. But let me hear
this news that will be so greatly to her advantage.
I have reason to believe that
she will very soon receive an offer of marriage.
Oh?
Robert Martin is the man. Her visit to the farm
this summer the cause. He's in love.
Means to marry her. Is that not a splendid thing?
He is very obliging. But is he so sure
that Harriet means to marry him?
He intends to make her an offer. He came
to see me to ask me what I thought of the notion.
I thought her an admirable young woman
within her own limitations
and advised him to press the match,
which I expect he will do.
How do you know he has not done so?
What?
I will tell you something, Mr Knightley,
in return for what you have so kindly told me.
Mr Robert Martin did speak yesterday.
That is to say, he wrote and was refused.
- Refused? I can't believe it!
- Nevertheless it's quite true, I'm afraid.
That girl must be a greater simpleton
than I thought her.
I realise it is impossible
for a man to believe a woman could refuse an
offer of marriage from whatever quarter it comes!
- Oh, nonsense. A man believes no such thing!
- Oh, yes, Mr Knightley.
Harriet Smith refuse Robert Martin?
But why? I can't believe it.
- You're mistaken. You must be.
- Nevertheless I have seen the letter.
- You mean you saw her answer, did you?
- I did.
- And wrote it too, I'll be bound.
- No. Well, not all of it.
- Emma, this is all your doing.
- And what if it is?
Mr Robert Martin may be an excellent young man
in many ways, but he is not Harriet's equal.
He's as much her superior in sense
as he is in station!
You've allowed your ridiculous infatuation
for this girl to blind you.
That is your opinion. It is not mine.
What is Harriet Smith? A parlour-boarder at
a girls' school. She has no family, no connection.
That is not her fault! It is her misfortune.
Let me continue. She is pretty and she has
an amiable nature, but she's not a sensible girl.
She has little or no information.
When Robert Martin came to tell me,
I thought, "Even Emma, with all her partiality
for Harriet, must see that this is a good match."
Really,
I cannot help wondering at your still knowing
so little of me as to say such a thing.
If Elton is the man that you have in mind for her,
I very much fear that it will be a labour in vain.
He's not the kind of man
to make an imprudent match of this kind.
You think it would be imprudent
for a man of Mr Elton's station
to marry a girl in Harriet Smith's position?
- Is that right?
- I do.
Then let me say at once, Mr Knightley,
that I consider an engagement
to Mr Robert Martin would not be a match.
It would be a degradation.
- In that case, I will bid you good morning.
- Good morning.
Yet I fear it's not as pleasant as it looks.
There's a harsh and treacherous wind
that catches one as one crosses the terrace.
I shall certainly not go again this...
How very strange!
Did you never collect riddles and conundrums,
Miss Woodhouse? I can scarcely believe it!
I did at one time, certainly, but I think
I abandoned the habit when I left the school.
- I have over a hundred now!
- Indeed, have you?
Of course, you will learn, Harriet,
that the exchanging of riddles and verses
is a very fair way for a shy young man
to express his feelings
without the embarrassment
of an open declaration.
Here is one by Mrs Goddard,
but I can never make out the meaning.
(KNOCKING)
- Mr Elton.
- Mr Elton! What a pleasure!
Miss Woodhouse. Miss Smith. I have the honour
to complete my commission on your behalf.
- Harriet's portrait!
- Miss Woodhouse! Does not the frame set it off?
Yes, it does. It does indeed.
- Thank you, Mr Elton! We are all in your debt.
- Not at all, Miss Woodhouse.
But do let me set it down somewhere,
so that we may all stand back and admire it!
In my opinion
it would be an adornment to any room.
Whether that is meant
as a compliment to the artist or to the sitter,
I think we need not enquire, Mr Elton.
Do join us for one moment.
I won't detain you ladies now. You must be busy.
Besides, I have some parish visits to make.
You promised to write something
in Harriet's book!
- I, Miss Woodhouse?
- Yes, you did, Mr Elton!
No, Miss Smith. I said
that I was no maker of elegant verses.
Oh, Harriet! I took Mr Elton
to be a man of his word. Did not you?
Oh, but he is, Miss Woodhouse.
I'm quite sure he is really.
It is just that he has forgot his promise.
No, I did not forget.
As a matter of fact, I have here a little verse,
written by a friend, that might amuse you.
- A friend of yours, Mr Elton?
- Yes.
- May I see?
- Yes, of course.
It is not mine to offer to Miss Smith's collection,
but it might just entertain you for a moment.
Please take it if you wish.
Good afternoon to you ladies.
Thank you, Mr Elton.
(WHISPERS) Not at all.
Miss Woodhouse, I... I cannot make it out!
- Here, you take this.
- No, it is yours.
Oh, please, Miss Woodhouse! You must help me!
Very well, then.
A charade, to Miss... Blank.
Well, we know who that is!
My first displays the wealth and pomp of kings,
Lords of the earth! Their luxury and ease.
Another view of man, my second brings,
Behold him there! The monarch of the seas!
- Miss Woodhouse!
- There is another verse.
But, ah, united, what reverse we have!
Man's boasted power and freedom, all are flown;
Lord of the earth and sea, he bends a slave,
And woman, lovely woman, reigns alone.
- What does it mean?
- That is not the end.
- Please tell me! What does it mean?
- Harriet, please!
Thy ready wit the word will soon supply,
May its approval beam in that soft eye!
- Oh, Miss Woodhouse! What is it?
- Well, think, Harriet!
Yes, Miss Woodhouse.
Thy ready wit the word will soon supply!
Is it... mermaid, Miss Woodhouse?
No, Harriet, it is not mermaid.
Then... it is shark?
- It cannot be shark. That is only one syllable.
- Yes, Harriet.
Woman! Is it woman, do you think?
- Miss Woodhouse, is it good? Is it well wrote?
- Written, Harriet.
Mr Elton's friend must be a very clever man,
must he not?
Yes, very clever.
My first displays the wealth and pomp of kings,
Lords of the earth! their luxury and ease.
That should be "court".
Yes, of course! That must be it.
Court! Go on, Miss Woodhouse.
Another view of man, my second brings,
Behold him there, the monarch of the seas!
That's "ship"! Plain as plain!
Ship, Miss Woodhouse?
Yes, I see! That's right. Ship!
So you see the word now, do you not?
Let me think.
Come, come, Harriet! Court and ship.
Courtship.
Courtship? Is that the word?
Yes, Harriet, that is the word.
(WHISPERS) Courtship.
Oh, Miss Woodhouse!
Oh, goodness!
May its approval beam in that soft eye!
This is so particular and pointed a compliment
that nobody could be in the slightest doubt
as to its meaning.
Harriet, you are a very, very fortunate girl.
But he said it was written by his friend,
did he not?
That was just a polite deception
which even you cannot take seriously.
Goodness! Goodness me!
This is an attachment
that will give you everything.
Consideration, independence
and a proper home.
It will confirm our friendship,
yours and mine, forever, will it not?
Yes, Miss Woodhouse. That would bring me
as much happiness as anything. Truly it would!
Dear sweet Harriet.
Fancy, that... that Mr Elton
should be in love with me, of all people,
who did not even know him to speak to
at Michaelmas!
You see how your fortunes have changed!
I well remember the very first time I saw him!
The Miss Martins and I ran into the front room
and peeped through the blind as he was going by!
Mrs Goddard came in and scolded us
and stayed to look herself.
Oh, how beautiful he looked, I remember!
Arm in arm with Mr Cole from the livery stable!
Yes, he is quite a handsome man, certainly.
There is no question of it.
I must copy it in at once and then I shall never let
my riddle book out of my hands again!
Never!
Really, Harriet, you must not put too much
significance upon a mere charade.
But you just said yourself...
Yes, I know, and in my opinion
it can have only one meaning,
but you must not betray your feelings
quite so openly.
Must I not, Miss Woodhouse?
But come! Let us go poor-visiting!
I think we would do well to get a little fresh air!
But suppose he should come back.
Mr Elton! For his charade.
Then he will find we have gone out, will he not?
Yes. I suppose so.
If he is the man that I suspect him to be
he will come in search of us,
which should not present too much difficulty
because Williams knows that
this is my day for visiting old Mrs Penny.
Yes, Miss Woodhouse.
- Are you tired, Harriet?
- No, not in the least bit, thank you.
Then shall we go the long way round,
past the church and up Vicarage Lane?
- May we, Miss Woodhouse?
- Of course.
One day, Harriet, Vicarage Lane will be
the most familiar place in the world to you.
You and your riddle book.
Miss Woodhouse, I do so wonder that... you have
not married yourself, so charming as you are.
Thank you, Harriet.
My being charming, as you're kind enough
to call me, has really nothing to do with it.
I must find other people charming,
one other at least.
I am afraid I have very little intention of marrying.
Goodness! It... it is strange to hear
a woman talk so, Miss Woodhouse.
I have none of the usual inducements to marry.
I do not lack fortune,
consequence or employment.
But, most important of all,
I have never been in love.
Miss Woodhouse!
Few married women are as much mistresses
of their husbands' houses as I am of my father's.
And if I cannot make a change for the better,
I have no intention of doing so for the worse!
But to become an old maid, like Miss Bates?
That is a truly formidable argument,
Harriet, I do admit.
Poor Miss Bates, boring us all with the virtues
of her nephews and nieces!
If her precious Jane Fairfax sends her the pattern
for a stomacher or knits herself a pair of garters,
- we must all hear about it!
- Miss Woodhouse!
No, a single woman with a very narrow income
must always appear somewhat ridiculous.
- Miss Woodhouse!
- A narrow income contracts the mind.
But a single woman of good fortune
is always respectable
and as sensible and pleasant as anybody else.
- Miss Woodhouse, please!
- It may not be justice, but it is the truth, I fear.
He's there behind us. Mr Elton.
Then let us walk on as before,
Harriet, but not too quickly.
Miss Woodhouse!
- Mr Elton!
- Miss Woodhouse. Miss Smith.
Forgive me following you like this.
I forgot to pay my respects to your father when
I called, and I would happily call this evening...
We should be delighted to see you at any time,
you know that.
...only I had engaged myself to Mr Cole.
- What a pity!
- It could be broken, of course.
- No, no, please don't do that. Another time.
But you will be wanting back your charade...
Your friend's charade. Harriet?
Oh. Yes, Miss Woodhouse.
- Well, at any time that's convenient.
- We both think it's excellent, quite excellent.
- Harriet would like to transcribe it into her book.
- Yes, Miss Woodhouse.
Thank you. My friend will be honoured, I'm sure.
Your friend must be a man of some wit, Mr Elton.
- Will you walk with us?
- Of course.
- Bother it!
- What is the matter?
Merely that I have broken my bootlace.
I felt it go just now.
May I be of some assistance?
Thank you, Mr Elton, but I hardly think that is
an office a gentleman can very well perform.
I beg your pardon.
If you will be so good
as to stroll on with Miss Smith,
I shall join you
as soon as I have overcome my little difficulty.
Of course.
(FIRE CRACKLES)
(CLOCK TICKS)
Williams, there you are!
Is everything prepared for their arrival?
Yes, Mr Woodhouse, long ago!
Good fires in the bedrooms? Some warm soup!
They'll have had a dreadful journey, poor things!
But why, Papa? It is only a short distance
and the weather is most kind.
It may turn to rain
and then the poor horses are bound to slip!
Please do not distress yourself so, Papa.
Those poor children!
They'll be exhausted, my dear.
It's Isabella I'm worried about.
She's like your poor dear mother used to be.
She suffers dreadfully on a long carriage journey.
Nonsense, Papa.
Now, you sit there, warm by the fire,
and I will be there when they arrive.
(HORSE AND CART APPROACH)
They're here. They have come!
Williams! Williams!
Oh, what a mercy! They're safe!
- Emma! Emma, how delightful it is to be back!
- Isabella!
Yet it seems strange
without Miss Taylor to greet us.
- Mrs Weston, my love. Hello, Emma.
- Hello, Mr John.
- Say hello to your aunt.
- Never mind! They want to stretch their legs.
- Williams! Take Mary up to the nursery.
- Very good, Miss Woodhouse.
- Hello, Bella.
- Hello, Auntie Emma.
Henry! John!
Go up to your rooms at once,
take off your coats and wash your hands.
(BOYS) Yes, Papa.
When you have brushed your hair, you may
come down again. No horseplay in the passages!
No, Papa.
Ah, my child! My poor, poor child!
What a terrible journey you must have had.
And the baby! What has happened to the baby?
It is all right, Papa. Mary has taken her upstairs.
John, my dear fellow! How are you?
Tolerably well, considering I've just been shut up
for hours with those two young hooligans of ours!
Where are the boys? Poor little fellows!
They must be exhausted after their journey,
I'm sure. Come in!
So exhausted
we could scarcely hear ourselves speak!
- Get yourselves warm!
- It's so good to be back.
As I was saying to Emma, Hartfield hardly seems
the same without dear Miss Taylor.
- Mrs Weston, my love.
- Poor Miss Taylor!
Yes, that was a grievous business indeed!
Most grievous.
- But you see her often still, I hope?
- No, hardly ever. It is most sad.
Papa! She has been here every day but one
since they came home.
Has she? If you say so, I suppose,
but she is always obliged to go away again!
Never mind. You will all be meeting very shortly,
because Mr and Mrs Weston and Mr Knightley
are dining with us this evening.
- Thank you. In the drawing room, are they?
- Yes, sir. Excepting Miss Woodhouse.
- Where is Miss Emma?
- Upstairs, sir, in the nursery with the baby.
Is she?
Thank you, Williams.
(KNOCK AT DOOR)
May I come in?
Just one moment, please.
You may come in now, Mr Knightley.
I was told that you were up here.
May I see her?
There. Is she not a pretty girl?
Is she not a beauty?
Say good evening to your Uncle Knightley, miss.
Say good evening.
Good evening, little Emma.
She's one thing that we have in common,
you and I.
What a comfort it is we think alike
about our nephews and nieces, Mr Knightley!
As to our opinions of men and women,
they do not always quite coincide.
On the subject of children, that is never the case.
If your judgement of men and women were
as sound as it is now, we should never disagree.
So our disagreements must always arise
from my being in the wrong, Mr Knightley?
- Is that so?
- Yes, it would appear so.
Indeed.
The reason is not far to see.
I was 16 when you were born.
I have no doubt as to your being very much
my superior in judgement then, I grant you.
But it was 21 years ago, remember.
Circumstances have altered a little since then.
Yes, but I still have the advantage
of 16 years' experience, don't forget,
and by not being a pretty,
overindulged young woman.
Come, my dear Emma.
Let us be friends again, hmm?
Little Emma, you tell your aunt that
she ought to be setting you a better example
than by renewing old grievances,
and that if she weren't wrong before,
then she is now, eh?
That is true, very true.
There, little Emma.
You grow up a better woman than your aunt!
Be much cleverer and not half so conceited.
You look a little pale, my love.
I'm sure the air of London doesn't suit you.
Why don't you let Perry
give you a thorough examination?
But I'm already in the hands
of Mr Wingfield in London
and he understands my constitution perfectly.
- But was it not he who prescribed sea-bathing?
- Yes, it was most beneficial to the whole family.
Perry has no faith in sea-bathing. In his opinion,
with some constitutions it may be harmful.
But it did the children a great deal of good!
If you must go to the sea,
it had much better not have been Southend.
Oh? Why not, pray?
Perry was must surprised that you had gone
there. He considers it an unhealthy place.
Southend unhealthy?
Then where does Mr Perry recommend?
My dear, you should have gone to Cromer!
- Cromer?
- Of all bathing places, he considers it the best.
A fine open sea, Perry says, and very pure air.
There were some new timbers
for the roof at the Mill farm.
New roof timbers? You are an indulgent landlord!
Young Martin's a very good tenant.
He farms the land well. He deserves it.
Yes, Emma dear, we are really hopeful that Frank
will be with us by Christmas Eve at the latest.
- Is that not good news?
- Most excellent news!
So, we hope to see you all
at Randalls to greet him.
Better to stay in London
than to travel 40 miles to get into worse air!
- But, Father...
- Perry said it seemed a very ill-judged measure!
- He should keep his opinion until it is asked for!
- John!
Why is it any business of his to wonder at what
I do? I want his opinion no more than his drugs!
Papa? Papa.
Mr and Mrs Weston have asked that
we should dine at Randalls on Christmas Eve.
- Is that not kind?
- Dine at Randalls on Christmas Eve? Oh, dear!
If Mr Perry can tell me how to convey a wife
and three children, not to mention a nursemaid,
a distance of 130 miles
at no greater expense or inconvenience than 40,
I should be extremely obliged to him.
John dear, please!
By then he hopes his son Frank will really be
with us at last. Is that not so, Mr Weston?
I think Miss Emma betrays an interest, eh?
I must admit, though I do say it myself,
he's a mighty handsome young lad these days.
I am quite sure he is. Why should he not be?
D'you hear that, my love? Thank you, my dear!
Miss Bates has her niece coming, so we shall
have plenty of young people to liven us up.
Ah, sweet Jane Fairfax! How is she? I've heard
no mention of her in your letters, Emma.
Is she still with her friends at Weymouth?
You will not hear much of Jane Fairfax
from Emma. You should know that, my love.
So you don't care for competition where
the young gentlemen are concerned? Is that it?
I am sure I do not know why Mr John should give
the impression I do not care for Miss Fairfax.
I have always maintained
that she has great beauty.
But a cold and haughty manner, is that not right?
She is reserved, certainly.
Yes, I think perhaps I do prefer
a more open nature. That is quite true.
And Miss Bates? How is poor, dear,
good-hearted Miss Bates these days?
Dear Miss Bates is much as usual. I think
we all of us know what that means, do we not?
Jane Fairfax is certainly a comely, handsome girl.
But Emma's new friend Harriet Smith is just
such another pretty young person, in my opinion.
Who, for goodness' sake, is Harriet Smith?
Poor Harriet!
But let it be some comfort to you that Mr and
Mrs Weston extended their most cordial welcome.
Miss Woodhouse, I am so disappointed!
I could weep!
Never mind! Another time will come.
But it won't! I know it won't!
Do not be so foolish. Of course it will!
But you are in no condition to go anywhere. You
have a fever and I think Perry should see you.
Miss Woodhouse, I'm sorry to be so tiresome
when... when you've been so kind,
but I really am so dreadfully disappointed!
Poor Harriet.
But I have a fancy that you are not going to be
the only one to be disappointed, Harriet.
- What do you mean, Miss Woodhouse?
- You will not be one of the party this evening.
No.
I have a feeling that someone, I will not say who,
is going to be very much out of countenance when
he sees your empty place at the table tonight!
- Mr Elton?
- Miss Woodhouse!
- Were you going to enquire after Harriet?
- Yes, I had heard she'd taken cold.
That is kind. Poor Harriet. I'm afraid there is no
possibility of her going to Randalls this evening.
Oh, dear. I am extremely sorry to hear that.
Her cold is feverish and her throat much inflamed.
A sore throat? Not infectious, I hope?
Not of a putrid kind? Has Perry seen her?
I believe Mrs Goddard has sent for him, but thank
you for your concern, Mr Elton. It's most kind.
Not at all.
Oh, dear! Poor Harriet!
I almost envy her being unable to go out tonight.
It's turned so cold all of a sudden.
If I were you, Mr Elton, I would take this
opportunity to excuse myself and stay indoors.
- But Mrs Weston...
- You have a busy day tomorrow.
I'm sure Mrs Weston would quite understand,
under the circumstances.
Miss Woodhouse, I can assure you nothing
will prevent me from attending the party tonight.
- But I thought...
- Emma! Whoa, back there, steady!
- Mr John!
- Emma, jump in!
- Thank you, but...
- This is no weather to be out walking.
Sorry, Elton. We meet this evening, eh?
Hup, good boy!
Never have I met a man more intent on making
himself agreeable where ladies are concerned!
- Mr Elton?
- With men he can be quite simple and rational.
But with ladies, I confess he makes my boot itch.
His manners are not perfect, I admit,
but he has a great degree of goodwill.
Towards you, certainly.
- Towards me?
- That's what I said.
Are you imagining me to be Mr Elton's object?
Such an imagination had crossed my mind, I own.
- What an absurd idea!
- I think not.
Think about it and regulate your conduct
towards him as a consequence.
- My conduct to Mr Elton?
- I speak as a friend.
Really! I do not understand
what you can possibly mean.
Oh? Very well.
Thank you, my dear, thank you. That's it.
Oh, my stick.
Could you... Thank you, dear.
You go on with Emma and Isabella, sir.
The rest of us will follow.
For once I agree with the old gentleman.
Four horses and four servants
to convey five people who would rather stay at
home than go out in weather that threatens snow.
- What is that?
- Father, we don't want the horses to get cold.
Oh, no, no, not indeed!
How very like you, my dear, to think of it!
The ladies in the first carriage
with Mr Woodhouse.
George and I will follow in the other
and call on Miss Bates and Elton.
Come in, all of you!
This dreadful weather!
I thought I saw a fleck of snow,
but the girls assured me it was not.
No, we shall not have snow,
you may depend upon it.
But I have a disappointment for Emma.
- For me?
- My son Frank cannot be with us.
What a shame! Not bad news, I hope?
No, simply that he has
a great many engagements these days.
- But he will make the journey in the new year.
- Indeed I hope so.
Yes, he's been hoping to come to us
since September. Every letter's been full of it.
But he cannot command his own time.
He has to please those who may be pleased only
by a great many sacrifices. Is it not so, my love?
- I am afraid so, my dear.
- But I've no doubt of seeing him in January.
That is his intention, certainly.
So, what with Frank and your pretty little friend
Miss Smith, we shall be two short, I'm afraid.
Miss Bates's niece cannot be with us either.
I'd forgot. Miss Fairfax. We must make
what cheer we can without them, eh, Emma?
You and I will not sit by with long faces, eh?
- No, indeed, we shall not, Mr Weston.
- No, no!
I will... I will retain my muffler for a while,
if nobody objects.
An old man's privilege, you know.
Oh, she does write such a beautiful hand!
A fine, clear, bold hand, I would call it!
I say, does she not write a very fine hand,
my niece Jane?
- You have remarked upon it yourself, Emma.
- I do not recall having done so, Miss Bates.
Now, where did I put that letter?
I read it again to Mother just now.
Here it is!
Oh, no, it was not so long!
It was quite short, in fact!
As a rule, she does not write a short letter.
She covers a whole page and then crosses it!
My mother often wonders that I can read it!
"Hetty," she says, "I don't know
how you can make out such chequer-work!"
Ah, here it is!
I knew I had it with me.
Father!
The others are busy with their port-wine
so I thought I would join the ladies.
- May he?
- Of course he may.
- Take the chair opposite the fire.
- Thank you.
I must confess that I find the company of ladies
infinitely more to my liking. Thank you.
I was just telling Emma I received a letter
this afternoon from my niece Jane Fairfax.
Such a delightful letter! I do not know
anyone to equal Jane as a correspondent.
Ah. Good, I see that I'm not the first.
May I join you and Miss Woodhouse,
Mrs Weston?
- If Miss Woodhouse has no objection.
- Thank you, ladies.
I suppose you've had no further news
of Miss Smith? I had no time to call in there.
You might persuade Miss Woodhouse
not to venture into the sickroom.
Always so careless of her own safety! Please do
give me your support in forbidding her to do so!
- I have no influence upon her these days.
- I should think not, indeed!
Then I shall have to issue the prohibition myself!
Miss Woodhouse, I cannot allow you
to run the risk of a putrid infection
that might have serious consequences
upon your health.
I fail to see by what right
you make such a statement!
Ah!
You might all be interested to learn that it is
snowing hard and the ground is already white!
The children! I must get home at once!
This should be something new
for your coachman and horses, sir, a snowstorm!
- A snowstorm?
- Emma! Father! Mrs Weston, I'm extremely sorry.
- John dear, you should order the carriages!
- Very well, my dear, if you think so.
If it has been snowing all the while
we shall never get home!
No need for hurry! An hour's snow
will hardly make the road completely impassable.
Besides, if one carriage is overset
then there is always the other!
That is the joy of it!
Weston and I have been out as far as the gate.
There's very little yet.
And easing off already. It is nothing at all!
I'm not going to stay another moment. Off you go.
Not leaving us already? It is not yet ten o'clock!
I'm extremely sorry, Mr Weston.
Such a delightful evening! John dear! John dear!
I'm so sorry, Mrs Weston.
May I fetch you your cloak?
- No, thank you.
- Allow me.
- Thank you, Mr Elton, but it is upstairs.
- Yes, of course.
I am afraid we shall have a very bad drive,
very bad.
- Isabella will not like it. She's nervous.
- Father!
I don't know what you're all in such a hurry for.
We've got two spare rooms, one for
the gentlemen, one for the ladies! Eh, m'dear?
- Father, do be quick, please.
- Sir, let me take your arm.
Thank you, my dear fellow.
I am so afraid of slipping.
- Elton? You coming with us?
- No, no room. I'll come in the second carriage.
- Take my place if you wish.
- No, I wouldn't dream of it. No, I insist.
I'm so sorry! After all the trouble you've taken.
It makes one wonder whether it is wise
to venture out at all at this time of year!
- Goodbye.
- Goodbye Miss Bates. Goodnight, Mr Knightley.
There you are, my dear!
You won't have to go alone, you have an escort.
Yes. Thank you, Mrs Weston. I am sorry
about this, but you know my father and Isabella.
Of course, my dear, I quite understand.
Thank you, Emma.
Goodbye, safe journey. Mr Elton.
Goodbye! Safe journey.
It still snows a little, I see.
Really, I can scarcely imagine
how he manages to find his way, poor man.
It is fortunate the journey is so short...
- Mr Elton!
- Miss Woodhouse.
- How can I express my passion?
- Mr Elton!
Miss Woodhouse, say that I may hope.
Say that I may. If you do not, I shall die.
This to me, sir! You forget yourself!
I do not. Indeed I do not.
Oh, Miss Woodhouse!
Beautiful, adorable Miss Woodhouse!
- So elegant! So proud!
- Control yourself, Mr Elton!
- Forgive me! You're irresistible!
- Mr Elton!
Quite irresistible!
Really, sir!
I must ask you to behave yourself.
I quite understand
that when a gentleman has had
a glass or two of wine, he is not quite himself.
Very well. I am not one to tell tales.
If you give me your word of honour
that this does not occur again,
I will not breathe a word of it to Miss Smith.
- Is that understood?
- Miss Smith? What is she to do with it?
- Surely...
- Miss Smith is nothing to me. You know that.
- Indeed I do not!
- Oh, charming Miss Woodhouse!
You know quite well my feelings for you,
else why have you encouraged me so?
- I encourage you?
- Certainly!
Mr Elton, I think you must be out of your mind!
Of course you have, repeatedly.
First the charade, which you were happy
to accept from me. Remember?
- I, sir?
- Yes, you.
And the picture frame,
which cost me a day's journey to London.
- The picture frame?
- For your exquisite drawing.
- But my drawing was of Miss Smith.
- But the artist was you.
Then it has not been Miss Smith at all?
I never thought of her. If she imagined otherwise,
then it is her own wishes that have misled her.
Everything I have done and said has been
for you alone. I'm sure you don't mistake me...
- Keep away, sir!
- Charming Miss Woodhouse!
Confess this coquettish attitude
permits me to believe that you do feel something!
No, sir, it does not! It does nothing of the sort!
If I had thought that your pursuit
of poor Miss Smith had been...
My pursuit of Miss Smith?
Yes, Mr Elton, pursuit.
Really, madam, I can scarcely understand you.
Everyone has his own level,
- but I am hardly at such a loss...
- That is enough!
- Let me finish.
- No, sir, I shall not.
I see we are almost at your door.
I would be very much obliged if you would
allow me to continue my journey alone, please.
Very well. If you wish.
Mr Elton!
I have no thoughts of matrimony at present.
Goodnight, sir.
Goodnight, madam.
What an experience!
Dreadful! Dreadful!
That is the last time I shall venture out
in the evenings until the spring!
I hear the other carriage!
John, open the door, please.
Thank goodness! She is safe!
I didn't dare think about her in the hands
of a Hackney coachman. James is so careful.
Excellent, excellent! We had visions of you
flung into a snowdrift with Elton!
Now, then!
We'll all have a good warm bowl of gruel.
- What do you think, Emma?
- Not for me, thank you, Father.
- My dear, you must! It'll make you sleep.
- Excuse me. Goodnight.
Oh, dear! What is the matter
with everybody these days?
Synchro: Peterlin