Back in 1997, my friend Cass and I came up with this romantic clue trail. If you read carefully enough, it becomes obvious that Emma and Mr. Knightley are falling in love.
Emma Quotations Chronicling the Love Between Emma & Mr. Knightley
Compiled by Kali & Cass Farrell
Emma on her relationship with Mr. Knightley:
"Mr. Knightley loves to find fault with me, you know - in a joke - it is all a joke (for her father's benefit). We always say what we like to one another."
Mr. Knightley, in fact, was one of the few people who could see faults in Emma Woodhouse, and the only one who ever told her of them..."Emma knows I never flatter her."
Emma on Mr Knightley:
"Mr. Knightley's air is so remarkably good that it is not fair to compare Mr. Martin with him. You might not see one in a hundred with gentleman so plainly written as in Mr. Knightley."
Emma, on the manners that wouldn't suit the "charming" Mr. Elton:
"Neither would Mr. Knightley's downright, decided, commanding sort of manner, though it suits him very well; his figure, and look, and situation in life seem to allow it; but if any young man were to set about copying him, he would not be sufferable."
Mr. Knightley, to Mrs. Weston, on knowing Emma since she was a child:
Mr. Knightley: "She will never submit to anything requiring industry and patience, and a subjection of the fancy to the understanding. Where Miss Taylor failed to stimulate, I may safely affirm that harriet Smith will do nothing. You never could persuade her to read half so much as you wished. You know you could not."
Mrs. Weston: "I dare say," she replied, smiling, "that I thought so then; but since we have parted, I can never remember Emma's omitting to do anything I wished."
Mr. Knightley: There is hardly any desiring to refresh such a memory as that," said he, feelingly; and for a moment or two he had done. "but I," he soon added, "who have had no such charm thrown over my senses, must still see, hear, and remember..."
Emma contemplates her disagreement with Mr. Knightley over Harriet's refusal of Mr. Martin:
Concession must be out of the question; but it was time to appear to forget that they had ever quarrelled.
They make up:
...She hoped it might rather assist the restoration of friendship, that when he came into the room she had one of the children with her - the youngest, a nice little girl about eight months old, who was now making her first visit to Hartfield, and very happy to be danced about in her aunt's arms. It did assist; for, though he began with grave looks and short questions, he was soon led on to talk of them all in the usual way, and to take the child out of her arms with all the unceremoniousness of perfect amity. Emma felt as if they were friends again; and the conviction giving her at first great satisfaction, and then a little sauciness, she could not help saying, as he was admiring the baby:
"What a comfort it is that we think alike about our nephews and nieces! As to men and women, our opinions are sometimes very different; but with regard to these children, I observe we never disagree."
"If you were as much guided by nature in your estimate of men and women, and as little under the power of fancy and whim in your dealings with them, as you are where these children are concerned, we might always think alike."
"To be sure - our discordancies must always arise from my being in the wrong."
"Yes," said he, smiling, "and reason good. I was sixteen years old when you were born."
"A material difference, then," she replied; "and no doubt you were much my superior in judgement at that period of our lives; but does not the lapse of one-and-twenty years bring our understandings a good deal nearer?"
"Yes, a good deal nearer."
"But still, not near enough to give me a chance of being right, if we think differently."
"I have still the advantage of you by sixteen years' experience, and by not being a pretty young woman and a spoiled child. Come my dear Emma, let us be friends, and say no more about it. "
It was weather which might fairly confine everybody at home; and though she hoped and believed him to be really taking comfort in some society or other, it was very pleasant to have her father so well satisfied with his being all alone in his own house, too wise to stir out; and to hear him say to Mr. Knightley, whom no weather could keep entirely from them: "Ah, Mr. Knightley, why do you not stay at home like poor Mr. Elton?"
Frank's "haircut" annoys Mr. Knightley (Ch. 25):
There was one person among his new acquaintance in Surry, not so leniently disposed. In general he was judged, throughout the parishes of Donwell and Highbury, with great candour; liberal allowances were made for the little excesses of such a handsome young man -- one who smiled so often and bowed so well; but there was one spirit among them not to be softened, from its power of censure, by bows or smiles -- Mr. Knightley. The circumstance was told him at Hartfield; for the moment, he was silent; but Emma heard him almost immediately afterwards say to himself, over a newspaper he held in his hand, "Hum! just the trifling, silly fellow I took him for." She had half a mind to resent; but an instant's observation convinced her that it was really said only to relieve his own feelings, and not meant to provoke; and therefore she let it pass.
Mr. Knightley and Emma quarrel over Frank Churchill:
Emma: "You seem determined to think ill of him."
"Me!" Not at all," replied Mr. Knightley, rather displeased; "I do not want to think ill of him. I should be as ready to acknowledge his merits as any other man; but I hear of none, except what are merely personal - that he is well-grown and good-looking, with smooth, plausible manners."
"I will say no more about him," cried Emma - "you turn everything to evil. We are both prejudiced! you against, I for him; and we have no chance of agreeing till he is really here."
"Prejudiced! I am not prejudiced!"
"But I am very much, and without being at all ashamed of it. My love for Mr. and Mrs. Weston gives me a decided prejudice in his favor."
"He is a person I never think of from one month's end to another," said Mr. Knightley, with a degree of vexation, which made Emma immediately talk of something else, though she could not comprehend why he should be angry.
After meeting Mrs. Elton, Emma goes off! And as she does, she erroneously ascertains that Frank is formost on her mind...he's not; she thinks of Mr. Knightley first, without even realizing it (Ch. 32):
"Insufferable woman!" was her immediate exclamation. "Worse than I had supposed. Absolutely insufferable! Knightley! I could not have believed it. Knightley! never seen him in her life before, and call him Knightley! and discover that he is a gentleman! A little upstart, vulgar being, with her Mr. E., and her caro sposo, and her resources, and all her airs of pert pretension and under-bred finery. Actually to discover that Mr. Knightley is a gentleman! I doubt whether he will return the compliment, and discover her to be a lady. I could not have believed it! And to propose that she and I should unite to form a musical club! One would fancy we were bosom friends! And Mrs. Weston! Astonished that the person who had brought me up should be a gentlewoman! Worse and worse. I never met with her equal. Much beyond my hopes. Harriet is disgraced by any comparison. Oh! what would Frank Churchill say to her, if he were here? How angry and how diverted he would be! Ah! there I am thinking of him directly. Always the first person to be thought of! How I catch myself out! Frank Churchill comes as regularly into my mind! "
As Mr. Knightley arrives - against his custom - at the Coles' in his carriage:
"This is coming as you should do," said she; "like a gentleman. I am quite glad to see you."
He thanked her, observing, "How lucky that we should arrive at the same moment; for, if we had met first in the drawing-room, I doubt whether you would have discerned me to be more of a gentleman than usual. You might not have distinguished how I came by my look or manner."
"Yes, I should; I am sure I should. There is always a look of consciousness or bustle when people come in a way which they know to be beneath them. You think you carry it off very well, I dare say; but with you it is a sort of bravado, an air of unaffected concern; I aleays observe it whenever I meet you under those circumstances. Now you have nothing to try for. You are not afraid of being supposed ashamed. You are not striving to look taller than anybody else. Now I shall really be happy to walk into the same room with you."
"Nonsensical girl!" was his reply, but not at all in anger.
Emma, rationalizing Mr. Knightley's kind behavior towards Jane in response to Mrs. Westion's suspicions of attachment:
"I know no man more likely than Mr. Knightley to do the sort of thing - to do any thing really good-natured, useful, considerate, or benevolent. He is not a gallant man, but he is a very humane one - and for an act of unostentatious kindness, there is nobody whom I would fix on more than on Mr. Knightley."
"Well," said Mrs. Weston, smiling, "you give him credit for more simple, disinterested benevolence than I do; for when Miss Bates was speaking, a suspicion darted into my head, and I have never been able to get it out again. The more I think of it, the more probable it appears...What do you say to it?
"Mr. Knightley and Jane Fairfax!" exclaimed Emma. "Dear Mrs. Weston, how could you think of such a thing? - Mr. Knightley! - Mr. Knightley must not marry! - You would not have little Henry cut off from Donwell? - Oh! no, no, Henry must have Donwell. I cannot at all consent to Mr. Knightley's marrying; and I am sure that it is not at all likely. I am amazed that you should think of such a thing."
"My dear Emma, I have told you what led me to think of it. I do not want the match - I do not want to injure dear little Henry - but the idea has been given me by circumstances; and if Mr. Knightley really wished to marry, you would not have him refrain on Henry's account, a boy of six years old, who knows nothing of the matter?"
"Yes, I would. I could not bear to have Henry supplanted. - Mr. Knightley marry! - No, I have never had such an idea, and I cannot adopt it now. And Jane Fairfax, too, of all women!"
Emma, on Mr. Knightley and Jane getting together:
"...Every feeling revolts."
Emma's reaction to Mrs. E:
Absolutely insufferable! Knightley! I could not have believed it. Knightley!-never seen him in her life before, and call him Knightley! and discover that he is a gentleman. A little upstart, vulgar being, with her Mr. E and her caro sposa, and her resources and all her airs of pert pretention and underbred finery....Actually to discover that Mr. Knightley is a gentleman! I doubt whether he will return the compliment, and discover her to be a lady.
Emma and Mrs. Weston corner Mr. Knightley concerning his rumoured affection for the charming Jane Fairfax:
Emma: Oh! no; upon my word I have not the smallest wish for your marrying Jane Fairfax, or Jane anybody. You would not come and sit with us in this comfortable way if you were married.
Mr. Knightely: Jane Fairfax is a very charming young woman-but not even Jane Fairfax is perfect. She has a fault. She has not the open temper which a man would wish for in a wife. (Emma could not but rejoice that she had a fault)
Emma reflecting on Jane Fairfax:
Since her last conversation with Mrs Weston and Mr. Knightley, she was more conscience-stricken about Jane Fairfax than she had often been. Mr. Knightley's words dwelt with her.
The Knightleys and Emma compare handwriting:
John Knightley: Isabella and Emma, I think, do write very much alike. I have not always known their writing apart.
George Knightley: Yes - there is a likeness. I know what you mean - but Emma's hand is the strongest.
Emma: Mr. Frank Churchill writes one of the best gentleman's hands I ever saw.
Mr. Knightley: I do not admire it. It is too small - wants strength. It is like a woman's writing.
This was not submitted to by either lady. They vindicated him against the base aspersion. "No, it by no means wanted strength -- it was not a large hand, but very clear and certainly strong. Had not Mrs. Weston any letter about her to produce?" No, she had heard from him very lately, but having answered the letter, had put it away.
"If we were in the other room," said Emma, "if I had my writing-desk, I am sure I could produce a specimen. I have a note of his. Do not you remember, Mrs. Weston, employing him to write for you one day?"
"He chose to say he was employed."
"Well, well, I have that note; and can shew it after dinner to convince Mr. Knightley."
"Oh! when a gallant young man, like Mr. Frank Churchill," said Mr. Knightley drily, "writes to a fair lady like Miss Woodhouse, he will, of course, put forth his best."
Emma and Mr. Knightley spar over who is best able to take care of the boys:
Emma: And as to my dear little boys, I must say, that if Aunt Emma has not time for them, I do not think they would fare much better with Uncle Knightley, who is absent from home about five hours where she is absent one; and who, when he is at home, is either reading to himself or settling accounts.
Mr Knightley seemed to be trying not to smile; and succeeded without difficulty, upon Mrs Elton's beginning to talk to him.
Emma reflects about Frank:
She was soon convinced that it was not for herself she was feeling apprehensive or embarrassed-it was for him. Her own attachment had really subsided into a mere nothing-it was not worth thinking of.
When it is certain that Frank will return, and the ball will be held:
All was safe and prosperous; and as the removal of one solicitude generally makes way for another, Emma now being certain of her ball, began to adopt as the next vexation Mr. Knightley's provoking indifference about it. Either becuase he did not dance himself, or because the plan had been formed without his being consulted, he seemed resolved that it should not interest him, determined against its exciting any present curiousity, or affording him any future amusement. To her voluntary communications Emma could get no more approving reply than:
"Very well. If the Westons think it worth while to be at all this trouble for a few hours of noisy entertainment I have nothing to say against it, but that they shall not choose pleasures for me. Oh, yes! I must be there; I could not refuse; and I will keep as much awake as I can; but I would rather be home, looking over William Larkins's week's account; much rather, I confess. Pleasure in seeing dancing! Not I, indeed - I never look at it - I do not know who does. Fine dancing, I believe, like virtue, must be its own reward. Those who are standing by are usually thinking of something very different."
This Emma felt was aimed at her; and it made her quite angry. It was not in compliment to Jane Fairfax, however, that he was so indifferent, or so indignant; he was not guided by her feelings in reprobating the ball, for she enjoyed the thought of it to an extraordinary degree. It made her animated - open-hearted...
It was not to oblige Jane Fairfax, therefore, that he would have preferred the society of William Larkins. No!
Emma contemplates Mr Knightley's dashing appearance:
She was more disturbed by Mr Knightley not dancing than by anything else. There he was among the standers-by, where he ought not to be; he ought to be dancing, not classing himself with the husbands, and fathers, and whist-players, who were pretending to feel an interest in the dance till their rubbers were made-up, -so young as he looked! He could not have appeared to greater advantage perhaps anywhere, than where he had placed himself. His tall, firm, upright figure, among the bulky forms and stooping shoulders of the eldery men, was such as Emma felt must draw everybody's eyes... Whenever she caught his eye, she forced him to smile; but in general he was looking grave. She wished he could love a ballroom better, and could like Frank Churchill better. - He seemed often observing her. She must not flatter herself that he thought of her dancing, but if he were criticising her behaviour, she did not feel afraid.
A happy sight:
Mr Knightley leading Harriet to the set! Never had she been more surprised, seldom more delighted, than at that instant. She was all pleasure and gratitude, both for herself and Harriet, and longed to be thanking him.
The ensuing conversation:
"Whom are you going to dance with?" asked Mr Knightley.
She hesitated a moment, and then replied, "With you, if you will ask me."
"Will you?" said he, offering his hand.
"Indeed, I will. You have shown that you can dance, and you know we are not really so much brother and sister as to make it improper."
"Brother and sister! - no indeed."
(This little explanation with Mr Knightley gave Emma considerable pleasure)
Emma: "Can you trust me with such flatterers? - Does my vain spirit ever tell me I am wrong?"
Mr. Knightley's response: "Not your vain spirit, but your serious spirit.--If one leads you wrong, I am sure the other tells you of it."
After the ball, and Emma's heart-to-heart with Mr. Knightley:
This little explanation with Mr. Knightley gave Emma considerable pleasure. It was one of the agreeable recollections of the ball, which she walked about the lawn the next morning to enjoy...Harriet rational, Frank Churchill not too much in love, and Mr. Knightley not wanting to quarrel with her, how very happy a summer must be before her!
Emma, in a conversation with Harriet:
Oh! yes. Mr Knightley and I both saying we liked it, and Mr Elton's seeming resolved to learn to like it too. I perfectly remember it. Stop-Mr Knightley was standing just here, was not he? I have an idea he was standing just here."
Mr. Knightley reflects on Frank Churchill:
Mr Knightley, who, for some reason best known to himself, had certainly taken an early dislike to Frank Churchill, was only growing to dislike him more. He began to suspect him of some double-dealing in his pursuit of Emma. That Emma was his object appeared indisputable. Every thing declared it; his own attentions, his father's hints, his mother-in-law's guarded silence; it was all in unison; words, conduct, discretion, and indiscretion, told the same story. But while so many were devoting him to Emma, and Emma herself making him over to Harriet, Mr. Knightley began to suspect him of some inclination to trifle with Jane Fairfax. He could not understand it; but there were symptoms of intelligence between them -- he thought so at least -- symptoms of admiration on his side, which, having once observed, he could not persuade himself to think entirely void of meaning, however he might wish to escape any of Emma's errors of imagination. She was not present when the suspicion first arose. He was dining with the Randalls' family, and Jane, at the Eltons'; and he had seen a look, more than a single look, at Miss Fairfax, which, from the admirer of Miss Woodhouse, seemed somewhat out of place. When he was again in their company, he could not help remembering what he had seen; nor could he avoid observations which, unless it were like Cowper and his fire at twilight,
"Myself creating what I saw,"
brought him yet stronger suspicion of there being a something of private liking, of private understanding even, between Frank Churchill and Jane.
After the puzzle incident:
He [Mr. Knightley] remained at Hartfield after all the rest, his thoughts full of what he had seen; so full, that when the candles came to assist his observations, he must - yes, he certainly must, as a friend - an anxious friend - give Emma some hint, ask her some question. He could not see her in a situation of such danger without trying to preserve her. It was his duty.
"Pray, Emma," said he, "may I ask in what lay the great amusement, the poignant sting of the last word given to you and Miss Fairfax? I saw the word, and am curious to know how it could be so entertaining to the one, and so very distressing to the other."
Emma was extremely confused. She could not endure to give him the true explanation; for though her suspicions were by no means removed, she was really ashamed of having ever imparted them...
He had hoped she would speak again, but she did not. She would rather busy herself about anything than speak. He sat a little while in doubt. A variety of evils crossed his mind. Interference - fruitless interference. Emma's confusion, and the acknowledged intimacy, seemed to declare her affection engaged. Yet he would speak. He owed it to her to risk anything that might be involved in an unwelcome itnerference, rather than her welfare; to encounter anything, rather than remembrance of neglect in such a cause.
"My dear Emma," said he at last, with earnest kindness, "Do you think you perfectly understand the degree of acquaintance between the gentleman and lady we have been speaking of?"
"Between Mr. Frank Churchill and Miss Jane Fairfax? Oh! Yes, perfectly. Why do you make a doubt of it?"
"Have you ever at any time had reason to think the he admired her, or that she admired him?"
"Never, never!" she cried with a most open eagerness...
She spoke with a confidence which staggered, with a satisfaction which silenced Mr Knightley. She was in gay spirits, and would have prolonged the conversation, wanting to hear the particulars of his supicions, every look described, and all the wheres and hows of a circumstance which highly entertained her; but his gaiety did not meed hers. He found he could not be useful, and his feelings were too much irritated for talking. That he might not be irritated into an absolute fever by the fire which Mr. Woodhouse's tender habits required almost every evening throughout the year, he soon afterwards took a hasty leave, and walked home to the coolness and solitude of Donwell Abbey.
Emma's cosmic connection to Donwell Abbey, as felt on the day of the Strawberry Outing:
It was so long since Emma had been at the Abbey, that as soon as she was satisfied with her father's comfort, she was glad to leave him and look around her; eager to refresh and correct her memory with more particular observation, more exact understanding of a house and grounds which must ever be so interesting to her and all her family.
She felt all the honest pride and complacency which her alliance with the present and future proprietor could fairly warrant, as she viewed the respectably size and style of the building, its suitable, becoming, characteristic situation, low and sheltered; its ample gardens stretching down the meadows washed by a stream, all of which the Abbey, with all the old neglect of prospect, had scarcely a sight - and with its abundance of timber in rows and avenues, which neither fashion nor extravagance had rooted up. The house was larger than Hartfield, and totally unlike it, covering a good deal of ground, rambling and irregular, with many comfortable, and one or two handsome rooms. It was just what it ought to be, and it looked what it was; and Emma felt an increasing respect for it, as the residence of a family of such true gentility, untainted in blood and understanding. Some faults of temper John Knightley had; but Isabella had connected herself unexceptionally. She had given them neither men, nor names, nor places, that could raise a blush. These were pleasant feelings, and she walked about and indulged them till it was necessary to do as the others did, and collect round the strawberry-beds.
The Box Hill Incident:
Mr Knightley: This is not pleasant to you, Emma-and it is very far from pleasant to me; but I must, I will-I tell you the truths while I can...
Emma: She continued to look back, but in vain...She was vexed beyond what could have been expressed-almost beyond what she could conceal. Never had she felt so agitated, mortified, grieved, at any circumstance in her life. She was forcibly struck. The truth of his representaion there was no denying. She felt it in her heart..And how suffer him to leave her without saying one word of gratitude, of concurrence, of common kindness!
The next morning:
It was not unlikely, she thought, that she might see Mr Knightley in her way...Her eyes were towards Donwell as she walked, but she saw him not.
Mr. Knightley leaves for London:
He looked at her with a warm glow of regard. She was warmly gratified-and in another moment or so, by a little movement of more than common friendliness on his part..He took her hand, pressed it, and certainly was on the point of carrying it to his lips, when, from some fancy or other, he suddenly let it go..It was with him of so simple, yet so dignified a nature.
Mr. Weston implores Emma to come to Randalls:
Emma: Break it to me! Good God! Mr Weston, tell me at once. Something has happened in Brunswick Square. I know it has. tell me, I charge you, tell me this moment what it is.
Later on in the visit, Mrs. Weston tries to defend Frank's actions to Emma:
Such a conclusion could not pass unanswered by Mrs. Weston. She thought well of Frank in almost every respect; and, what was more, she loved him very much, and her defence was, therefore, earnest. She talked with a great deal of reason, and at least equal affection -- but she had too much to urge for Emma's attention; it was soon gone to Brunswick Square or to Donwell; she forgot to attempt to listen...
Emma finally realizes how ignorant of her own heart she had been:
Why was it so much worse that Harriet should be in love with Mr Knightley than 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!
Oh God! that I had never seen her!...
She saw that there never had been a time when she did not consider Mr Knightley as infinitley the superior, or when his regard for her had not been infinitely the most dear. She saw, that in persuading herself, in fancying, in acting to the contrary, she had been entirely under a delusion...that she had never really cared for Frank Churchill at all!
Till now that she was threatened with its loss, Emma had never known how much of her happiness depended on being first with Mr. Knightley, first in interest and affection. - Satisfied that it was so, and feeling it her due, she had enjoyed it without reflection; and only in the dread of being supplanted, found how inexpressibly important it had been. - Long, very long, she felt she had been first; for, having no female connexions of his own, there had been only Isabella whose claims could be compared with hers, and she had always known exactly how far he loved and esteemed Isabella.
She had herself been first with him for many years past. She had not deserved it; she had often been negligent or perverse, slighting his advice, or even wilfully opposing him, insensible of half his merits, and quarrelling with him because he would not acknowledge her false and insolent estimate of her own - but still, from family attachment and habit, and thorough excellence of mind, he had loved her, and watched over her from a girl, with an endeavour to improve her, and an anxiety for her doing right, which no other creature had at all shared. In spite of all her faults, she knew she was dear to him; might she not say, very dear? - When the suggestions of hope, however, which must follow here, presented themselves, she could not presume to indulge them. Harriet Smith might think herself not unworthy of being peculiarly, exclusively, passionately loved by Mr. Knightley. She could not. She could not flatter herself with any idea of blindness in his attachment to her. She had received a very recent proof of its impartiality. - How shocked had he been by her behaviour to Miss Bates! How directly, how strongly had he expressed himself to her on the subject! - Not too strongly for the offence - but far, far too strongly to issue from any feeling softer than upright justice and clear-sighted goodwill. - She had no hope, nothing to deserve the name of hope, that he could have that sort of affection for herself which was now in question; but there was a hope (at times a slight one, at times much stronger,) that Harriet might have deceived herself, and be overrating his regard for her. - Wish it she must, for his sake - be the consequence nothing to herself, but his remaining single all his life. Could she be secure of that, indeed, of his never marrying at all, she believed she should be perfectly satisfied. - Let him but continue the same Mr. Knightley to her and her father, the same Mr. Knightley to all the world; let Donwell and Hartfield lose none of their precious intercourse of friendship and confidence, and her peace would be fully secured. - Marriage, in fact, would not do for her. It would be incompatible with what she owed to her father, and with what she felt for him. Nothing should separate her from her father. She would not marry, even if she were asked by Mr. Knightley.
All that were good would be withdrawn; and if to these losses, the loss of Donwell were to be added, what would remain of cheerful or of rational society within their reach? Mr. Knightley to be no longer coming there for his evening comfort!--No longer walking in at all hours, as if ever willing to change his own home for their's!--How was it to be endured? - what could be increasing Emma's wretchedness but the reflection never far distant from her mind, that it had been all her own work?
Mr. Knightley: You will not ask me what is the point of my envy..You are wise - but I cannot be wise. Emma, I must tell you what you will not ask, though I may wish it unsaid the next moment...Tell me, then, have I no chance of ever succeeding?
Emma was almost ready to sink under the agitation of this moment. The dread of being awakened from this happiest dream was perhaps the most prominent feeling.
Mr. Knightley: I cannot make speeches, Emma. If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am. You hear nothing but truth from me. I have blamed you and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it. Bear with the truths I would tell you now, dearest Emma, as well as you you have borne the..But you understand me. Yes, you see, you understand my feelings...
The perfect happiness of the union:
What totally different feelings did Emma take back into the house from what she had brought out!...They sat down to tea-the same party round the same table-how often it had been collected! and how often had her eyes fallen on the same shrubs in the lawn, and observed the same beautiful effect of the western sun! But never in such a state of spirits...As long as Mr Knightley remained with them, Emma's fever continued.
The rejection of the removal to Donwell:
Emma was never struck with any sense of injury to her nephew Henry....Yet, she only gave herself a saucy conscious smile about it, and found amusement in detecting the real cause of that violent dislike of Mr Knightley's marrying Jane Fairfax, or anybody else... This proposal of his, this plan of marrying and continuing at Hartfield-the more she contemplated it the more pleasing it became... Such a companion for herself in the periods of anxiety and cheerlessness before her! Such a partner in all those duties and cares to which time must be giving increase of melancholy!