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unfortunate. No sooner has she arrived here – she brings a friend, you know.”
    â€œA friend?” said Emma, frowning. She saw her numbers for the dinner grow too great for Mr. Knightley to permit it to take place. There would be an altercation over the walnut table in the morning-room, which Mr. Knightley’s mother had sat at, with her sewing. For some reason this piece could not be moved to the dining-room without a great deal of fuss on the part of Mr. Knightley.
    â€œJane does not stay here,” said Miss Bates. “She is with Mrs. Elton. The good vicar’s wife has Mrs. Smallridge as guest. Mrs. Smallridge insists on Jane staying with the children. There. There. It cannot be helped. We are so very fortunate, my dear.”
    Emma was appalled at this lack of kindness towards a poor governess. In her agitation she rose, and with the suddenness of her movement, the floorboards of the old house trembled, causing Mrs. Bates to wake and her spectacles to slide from footstool to floor.
    â€œPlease forgive me!” And, retrieving the spectacles Emma noted with horror that the frames had cracked and were in need of putting together again before theycould be of use to the wearer. “Oh, Mrs. Bates, I will ensure these are seen to as soon as I possibly can!” cried Emma.
    But a closer inspection of the old lady proved to be of more concern than a pair of broken spectacles. For, whatever Miss Bates might say on the subject of her mother’s health, old Mrs. Bates did not appear well at all. Her breathing was slow and quiet, but irregular and punctuated with little gasps: that she had made an outstanding effort to comment on the gift of pork accounted only too well for the sleep which had immediately succeeded it.
    â€œI had hoped to invite you and your mother to dinner,” said Emma as Mrs. Bates lapsed once more into a comatose state; and she blamed herself as she spoke for a lack of delicacy in putting her dinner always at the head of every subject, for it was evident that old Mrs. Bates could not go out in company and that her daughter must stay and care for her. Nevertheless, Emma persevered: if she could not bring news home that Miss Bates and her mother came to Donwell Abbey, then Jane Fairfax must be counted on. And it was Jane she chased. There was no question of Miss Bates marrying John Knightley.— These thoughts flashed across Emma’s mind, but she censured herself for them.
    â€œWe shall be delighted to come,” said Miss Bates, to Emma’s surprise. “Why, my mother cannot forget – lastsummer, was it already? – that Mrs. Hodges did so well with the dessert—”
    â€œAnd Miss Fairfax,” said Emma. “Will her friend mind, if she does not accompany her to Donwell on this occasion? There is not room at the dining-room table, now we have Mr. Knightley’s brother in the house.”
    â€œMrs. Hodges is most accomplished,” said Miss Bates. “She made a perfect tart.”
    Emma, still standing by the fireside of the little room, glanced at Miss Bates in consternation.
    â€œA raspberry tart,” said Miss Bates, as Emma made her farewells with all the good manners required on the occasion of the departure of the squire’s wife from a simple abode. “Be careful at the turning, dear Mrs. Knightley. Yes, Mother and I will be delighted to accept. But of Jane I cannot give any assurances. Watch how you go, Mrs. Knightley!”
    And, as Emma let herself from the narrow hall she distinctly heard, from above and in Miss Bates’s unmistakable tones, the word “Bollocks!”

Chapter 7
    Emma left the Bates household confused and unhappy. She knew she must report to Mr. Knightley that the health of old Mrs. Bates was certain to render any kind of a party being attended by her at Donwell Abbey an impossibility; and at the same time she knew Mr. Knightley well enough to imagine him declaring, with no little