Original subtitles

- Is Miss Woodhouse in, please? - Yes, miss, she's in the morning room.

Oh, thank you.

(PIANO PLAYING)

- Bravo, Miss Woodhouse! - Harriet!

You played so beautifully that for a moment I thought it must be Miss Fairfax.

I'm afraid my playing is no more like hers than a lamp is like sunshine.

Nonsense, Miss Woodhouse, I think you play every bit as well as she does.

Well, nearly. And anyway, I like your manner of playing.

Thank you, Harriet.

I think you have great delicacy and taste. So does Mr Churchill.

Really? I was not aware that he had heard me play.

He and Mr Knightley had a great dispute upon the point last night.

Mr Knightley was all for Miss Fairfax, but Mr Churchill would have none of it.

He said that in his opinion, taste was far more important than mere execution.

- He did, really, Miss Woodhouse. - Thank you for telling me.

But are you not up and about early? I had not thought to see you so soon after our late night.

I have some shopping to do at Ford's.

Besides, I... I was anxious to know your opinion of the party.

- Was it not splendid? - Well, I am glad you thought it so, Harriet.

And... how did you think the Miss Coxes looked?

As they generally do, somewhat vulgar. Why?

They told me something,

but it is not of any great consequence.

Well, clearly you do not think so. What was it?

They told me that...

- Mr Martin dined with them last Sunday. - Oh.

They talked a great deal about him, especially Anne Cox.

Mrs Goddard thinks that either of the Coxes would be glad to marry him.

Very possibly. They are without doubt the most vulgar girls in Highbury.

Oh...

Yes, I suppose they are.

Come, now, Harriet, if you have something to buy, let us go down to Ford's together.

Yes, Miss Woodhouse. I like of all things to go shopping the morning after a party.

There's always a possibility that one will meet... well, so many people.

Yes, Harriet.

(BELL RINGS)

I like the colour. I like it exceedingly. In fact, I think that I prefer it to the other.

Miss Woodhouse, is that not a very pretty shade of blue?

Yes, but as the colour you require is yellow...

Oh, yes. Then you think perhaps the other? May I see it again, please, Mrs Ford?

- Certainly, miss. - I'm sorry.

- Not at all. - Thank you.

Now I come to look at it again, it seems a little on the narrow side.

What do you think, Miss Woodhouse? Would you not say that that was a trifle?

Oh. Oh, dear.

Oh, goodness.

(BELL RINGS)

Ah. There! What did I say?

I told you Miss Woodhouse is always to be found at Ford's at this hour.

Good morning.

- He insisted we look in. - Well, naturally.

I'm not shopping for myself. I came with Harriet.

We are on our way to Miss Bates'. The Coles are to inspect the new piano.

But we have already inspected the new piano.

Oh, but they'll be most put out if you don't come.

Oh, nonsense. I should be very much in the way. You go forward and make my excuses.

Perhaps I may be in the way here too. Miss Woodhouse looks as if she didn't greatly want me.

My stepmother sends me off when she goes shopping. She says I fidget her to death.

Miss Woodhouse looks as though she feels the same, so what am I to do?

Well, if you have promised Miss Bates and her niece, it is very clear what you should do.

Oh...

Very well, then. I will leave you.

- I must go, I promised we should not be late. - Tell them that I shall be along presently.

Really, Mr Churchill, I think you are most unfeeling.

- Miss Fairfax will be most disappointed. - Oh, I hardly think so.

Anyway, Mr Knightley is to be there,

and I'm sure he will provide all the praise and encouragement needed.

Besides, if she should be in poor voice again this morning, what should I say?

I am the wretchedest in the world at a civil falsehood.

I believe no such thing.

I think you can be quite as insincere as your neighbour when the occasion arises.

Ah. Harriet seems at last to have made up her mind.

Very well, then, I shall go.

Perhaps we may renew our partnership upon the dance floor before too long.

At least I hope so.

Thank you, Mr Churchill. Goodbye.

Thank you. Shall I send it to Mrs Goddard's, miss?

Yes, please.

Oh, no... Oh, yes! To Mrs Goddard's, if you please.

Wait a minute. My bonnet is at Hartfield. Better send it there.

Very good, miss.

But Mrs Goddard will want to see it before I sew it on.

Whatever you say, miss.

Better send it to Mrs Goddard's... perhaps.

Well, I can always take it from there to Hartfield later on, I suppose.

Oh, Miss Woodhouse, what do you advise?

That you do not spend another moment upon it. We will take it with us, thank you.

Yes, of course, that is much the best idea. Thank you, Mrs Ford.

A dance? Here?

Why not, my love? It was Frank's suggestion. I think it a capital one.

But we have not the space.

Oh, well, just the same small happy company we had last night at Mrs Cole's.

- Something of the sort. - But our rooms are not near so large.

- Nevertheless... - We could not have nearly so many here.

Well, a smaller affair, about four or five couple.

Oh, well.

Five couple would stand up very well. What say you, Frank?

Yes, but it will not really do to invite a mere five couple.

Not for dancing. It is too small a number, too insignificant.

Five may stand up as an afterthought, but not by invitation.

- Quite so, quite so. - Perhaps some other form of entertainment?

You know, I think we've been too nice upon this question.

In my opinion, we could get nearer ten in here with a little rearrangement.

I think you may very well be right.

- Oh, dear. - Ten couple would be a different matter.

Let's work out our numbers. Just jot them down, would you, my love?

- Let's begin with the ladies, eh? - Miss Woodhouse, of course.

And Jane Fairfax... and we should really include little Miss Smith.

- Oh, yes, yes, put down Harriet Smith. - The Miss Gilberts. We cannot leave them out.

- You have not even mentioned Mr and Mrs Cole. - Nor I have, my love.

- Mr Elton and his new bride. - I doubt they will have returned from Bristol.

Those two other young ladies. What were their names? The Miss Coxes.

That would mean inviting Mr and Mrs Cox.

We couldn't leave them out if we invite all the others. It would be too unkind.

- Very well. - And if we ask the Coles,

I don't see how we can possibly do other than invite the Freemans also.

Which reminds me, they have her brother and his family staying with them.

I forget how many young people there are.

No. No, this is quite impossible.

I'm sorry, but it simply cannot be done.

Well, then, let me, if I may, put forward quite another plan.

The Crown Inn? Oh, no, no.

I have never been inside it, but a room at an inn is always so damp and dangerous.

Emma would be sure to catch a chill.

Oh, nonsense, Papa. I think it an excellent suggestion.

Good. I'm exceedingly glad to hear you say so.

Does Miss Taylor, your stepmother, agree to this?

Indeed, sir, she is very greatly in favour of it.

And as I was going to observe, sir,

there is far less likelihood of catching cold at the Crown than at Randalls.

- Oh? How so? - Well, simply because it is larger, sir,

so we shall have no occasion to open a window the whole evening.

Open a window?

But surely, Mr Churchill, nobody at Randalls would be so imprudent.

Dancing with open windows?

Neither your father nor poor Miss Taylor that was would ever suffer such a thing.

Ah, but a thoughtless young person might well step behind a curtain

and throw up a sash without anyone being the wiser.

- I've often known it done. - Have you?

Have you indeed?

Goodness gracious me.

Well, I live so out of the world that I'm often astonished at what I hear.

Well, that makes a difference, certainly.

Besides, Papa, if it can be contrived to be held at the Crown,

it would be so very convenient for the horses, for they will be so very near their own stable.

So they will, my dear. Yes, that is indeed a point too.

And it will be less far for James to drive, not that he ever complains.

No, the only question is whether the room would be properly aired.

- Is that woman at the Crown to be trusted? - I can answer your fears on that head, sir.

My stepmother is to take full charge of the arrangements.

- There, Papa! - Oh, very well... very well.

If it must be, it must be, I suppose.

Thank you, sir, for your great help. Well, this discharges my first duty.

Now it only remains for me to canvass the suggestion with Miss Bates,

but she is hardly likely to raise objections, I'm sure.

- But her agreement will take just as long, I fear. - Very true.

If you are calling upon Miss Bates,

perhaps you would take her more apples. It would save Emma a journey.

- Indeed I will. - Indeed you will not, sir.

- You will run no errands for me. - You do not trust me, madam.

I will come with you and you may help me carry them.

- That is, if you do not object to my company. - It is an unexpected honour.

- One moment, while I get my bonnet. - Where are you going?

To Miss Bates', Papa, with the apples. I shall not be gone long.

- But I thought... - Excuse me, sir.

Miss Woodhouse? There... I cannot thank you enough, I really cannot thank you enough.

Such beautiful apples!

Dear Jane at present makes such a shocking breakfast always.

You'd be frightened if you saw it. I dare not let my mother see how little she eats.

I say this and I say that and it passes off.

And then, about the middle of the morning, she begins to feel hungry

and there's nothing she likes so well as a baked apple.

They're very wholesome, I believe, for I stopped Dr Perry recently in the street and asked him.

- (WHISPERING) Shh, Miss Bates. - Oh.

(WHISPERING) And apple dumplings.

Patty makes an excellent apple dumpling.

She has many faults, I know, but she does make a very good apple dumpling.

Miss Bates, I really think we ought to attend.

(PLAYS FINAL FLOURISH)

- Oh, bravo! Most excellent. - Well done, well done, my dear.

Mr Dixon is a fine judge of an instrument, would you not say, Miss Woodhouse?

He has chosen most wisely and well.

Mr Churchill, it is not fair. Mine was but a random guess.

Oh, but we were talking the other day

about his being a warm admirer of her talents, don't you remember?

Of course, but I did not mean to reflect on his good intentions in giving it, or hers in receiving it.

Oh, no, of course not, Miss Woodhouse. I'm sure nobody would suspect you of such a thing.

And, er... these were sent with it, I understand. A set of Irish melodies.

He must have heard you play them at Weymouth, Miss Fairfax.

I said, did you not play some of these charming Irish songs when you were in Weymouth?

I did, sir.

Your meaning is too plain. You are making her most uncomfortable.

If she has a guilty conscience, that is no fault of mine.

I am half ashamed that I ever suggested such a thing.

I'm extremely glad that you did, Miss Woodhouse. It may account for her odd manners.

Leave the shame to her if it is true.

- Mother, you would like to hear another piece. - Aunt, please...

- But we should all like to, would we not? - Indeed we would.

She plays so well, does she not? Such a delicate touch.

What about "Robin Adair"? That was a great favourite with the company at Weymouth.

Oh, yes, let's have "Robin Adair".

Ah.

Jane dear?

Mr Churchill, I am sure Miss Fairfax has every right to decline if she wishes.

We are all to meet very shortly at the Crown, are we not,

thanks to the kind hospitality of the Westons?

Oh, yes, so very kind, so generous.

I think the Crown an admirable suggestion, do not you, Jane, dear?

May I hope to renew the partnership that was begun so happily last night, Miss Woodhouse?

Really, Mr Churchill, I think that is a matter best left to the occasion.

You do not think it too strong a colour, Miss Woodhouse, with the yellow ribbon?

- No, not at all. - Perhaps I should change the ribbons.

Perhaps I should not wear yellow ribbons at all.

- What do you think? - That you should wear it exactly as it is.

Oh, I'm glad you think so. That is my opinion too.

You may wear strong colours. They set off your complexion.

There are others who are not so fortunate.

There.

I hear from Miss Bates that...

Mrs Elton has a very fine complexion.

Indeed.

And that she's extremely elegant.

We will make up our own minds on that matter when Mr and Mrs Elton return to Highbury.

I'm sure she will be beautiful, Miss Woodhouse.

Quite beautiful.

One cannot wonder at Mr Elton falling in love with her, or she with him, for that matter.

It is not every man's fate to marry the woman who loves him best.

She perhaps wanted a home and thought this the best offer she would get.

And well she might. Nobody could want a better, I'm sure.

Well, I...

I wish them happy with all my heart.

- Oh, Harriet. - It's all right, Miss Woodhouse.

I will not mind seeing him again now.

No, indeed, you need not be afraid on my behalf.

I will sit in church

and admire him now without... too much misery,

now that I know he has not thrown himself away.

- (KNOCK AT DOOR) - Yes?

Miss Woodhouse, excuse me, but Mr Churchill is here.

- Mr Churchill? - In the drawing-room.

He asked most particularly that he might speak with you, Miss Woodhouse.

Thank you, Williams.

(DOOR CLOSES)

Miss Woodhouse, I have an extremely melancholy task to perform,

so let me dispatch it quickly. I've had bad news from Yorkshire.

- Your guardian, Mrs Churchill? - Yes.

My aunt is ill. How ill, I don't yet know, but she has sent for me.

- Then you are leaving us? - I fear so.

That is sad news, Mr Churchill, very sad. When must you go?

- Immediately. This morning, in fact. - This morning?

Yes, my father is coming round for me here very shortly, I'm afraid.

Miss Woodhouse, you must think this sudden departure both ill-mannered and extraordinary.

I have no right to question your actions.

Believe me, the decision was not mine.

No, in these matters I'm afraid I am not my own master.

My portion is to obey, whether or not there is justice in the command.

Of course. I understand.

Thank you, Miss Woodhouse. Thank you.

(SIGHS) Oh...

of all horrid things in the world, leave-taking is the worst.

But you will come back to us again, surely? This will not be your only visit to Randalls?

I cannot be sure, but I shall try for it, you may be certain. I shall try for it most strenuously.

So... our poor ball must be quite given up.

Oh, that ball. Why did we not seize our pleasure and hold it at once?

How often is happiness destroyed by foolish preparation, eh?

Yes, how often.

Never mind. If I can come again, we may still have it.

My father depends on it. So hold yourself still engaged, Miss Woodhouse.

Very well, I will.

Oh, such a fortnight it has been,

every day more precious than the last,

every day rendering me less fit to bear any other place.

Happy those who remain at Highbury.

As you do us now such ample justice, Mr Churchill,

may I venture to ask if you did not come a little doubtfully at first?

You read too much into my manner, Miss Woodhouse.

So... you are leaving us this very morning?

Yes, my father is to come for me here and we go immediately.

In fact, I fear him coming any moment.

Without even five minutes to spare for poor Miss Bates and her niece? How sad.

Miss Bates' powerful and lucid arguments would have persuaded you of the desirability of staying.

I need no persuading on that score, I can assure you,

but I... I did call in there briefly on my way here just now.

- You did? - Yes, I had intended a moment only,

but was detained by Miss Bates herself being out.

She is a lady I fear one must laugh at, yet one would not wish to slight.

But Miss Fairfax was at home, I trust?

Yes, she was within.

Miss Woodhouse, you have all treated me with such extreme kindness while I have been here

that I feel I owe everyone,

and you particularly, the utmost honesty and frankness.

I'm quite sure that you, with your extreme powers of perception,

must be well aware of the true state of my... my feelings.

(MR WEST0N) Frank? Frank, my boy! The dogcart is outside.

(MUTTERS) Excuse me.

I'm just coming, Father!

(MR WEST0N) Don't come near the door, please, Mr Woodhouse. It's a raw morning.

Oh, well, I shall hear about you all.

That is my chief consolation.

I have engaged my stepmother to send me every possible item of news.

Oh, the blessing of a female correspondent.

She will bring dear Highbury close to me again.

Well, goodbye, Miss Woodhouse. You know, do you not,

that it is my earnest wish that we should meet again before long.

Goodbye.

Goodbye, Mr Churchill.

(RUNNING FOOTSTEPS)

Coming, Father. Coming!

Goodbye, Mr Woodhouse.

(DOGCART DRIVES AWAY)

Over it she wore a pelisse of magenta velvet

which suited her style of beauty most admirably, I thought.

And Mrs Goddard has heard that she also plays the piano very well.

Now, Harriet, your allowing yourself to become so upset over Mr Elton's marriage

is the strongest possible reproach you could make to me.

- Miss Woodhouse! - Yes, it is.

You could not more constantly remind me of my mistake, which is most hurtful.

Miss Woodhouse, it was not intended to be.

I have not said, "Think and talk less of Mr Elton" for my sake, Harriet,

because it is for yours that I wish it.

My being hurt is a very secondary consideration.

But please, please, Harriet, do learn to exert a little more self-discipline in this matter.

Yes, Miss Woodhouse.

We are all creatures of feeling.

We all suffer disappointments.

It is how we learn to suffer them that forms our character.

If you continue in this way, I shall have to think you wanting in true friendship for me.

Oh, Miss Woodhouse, you who are the best friend I've ever had!

- Oh, what a horrid wretch I've been! - No...

- Oh, yes, I have, I have! - Harriet, control yourself.

That is better.

Now, you are going to tie your bonnet

and you are coming with me to call upon Mr and Mrs Elton.

- Oh, Miss Woodhouse. - Yes, you are.

You will find it far less distressing than you think.

- Miss Woodhouse, must I? - Yes, Harriet.

But you may borrow my lace ruff if you wish.

May I, Miss Woodhouse?

Oh, thank you.

Oh, Miss Woodhouse!

- There, Harriet, you look very well indeed. - Oh, thank you, Miss Woodhouse.

And remember now, you are inferior to no one.

Yes, Miss Woodhouse.

You live in the large house as one enters the village, do you not, Miss Woodhouse?

- Hartfield is on the outskirts of the village. - Mr Elton pointed it out to me.

I was struck by its likeness to Maple Grove, my brother-in-law Suckling's seat near Bristol.

- Do you know that part of the world? - No, I am afraid I do not.

The grounds particularly put me in mind of Maple Grove.

The laurels are in the same profusion

and stand in very much the same way, just across the lawn.

And I glimpsed a large tree with a bench round it. Am I right?

- Yes, that is so. - My brother-in-law has just such another,

only the tree, I fancy, is larger. It is considered rather fine.

Do try a piece of shortbread, Miss Woodhouse.

My cook is hardly all that one could desire, but she can make a tolerable shortbread.

- No, thank you. - No?

- But perhaps Miss Smith. - Oh, Miss... Oh. Do help yourself.

My brother and sister have promised us a visit in the spring,

when you must join us in some expeditions, Miss Woodhouse.

Their barouche-landau holds four comfortably,

so with our carriage, transport should present no difficulties.

- You have many such parties already, I expect. - Not many.

This is not a very smart society, Mrs Elton.

Hm... You are fond of music, so I understand, Miss Woodhouse?

- And who gave you that information, Mrs Elton? - Ah.

I told my caro sposo before we married that I could do without the luxuries of Maple Grove,

but I said, "I do not think I could exist without a musical society."

- Without music, life would be a blank to me. - Indeed.

Miss Woodhouse, I hope we shall have many sweet little concerts together.

You and I should form a musical club and have regular weekly meetings at your house or ours.

That would be a capital plan, would not it?

Mrs Elton, I really think you have been misinformed about me.

Miss Fairfax is the person you require. SHE is the musician.

Ah, yes, yes, absolutely charming, is not she?

I quite rave about Jane Fairfax.

A sweet, interesting creature, so quiet and ladylike, and with such talents.

I do know enough of music to speak with certainty on that point.

You'll laugh at my warmth, but upon my word, I talk of nothing but Jane Fairfax.

And her situation is so unfortunate, is not it?

Miss Woodhouse, we must do something for her. We must bring her forward.

Such a talent as hers should not be allowed to remain unknown.

I dare say you've heard those charming lines of the poet...

"Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its fragrance on the desert air."

We must not allow that to be said of poor Jane Fairfax.

I think there is very little danger of that, Mrs Elton. Her talents are quite widely known.

Mm, but I fancy that where you and I lead, others will follow, do you not?

Do you think so?

One can see she feels the want of encouragement, but I like her the better for that.

I confess, it is quite a recommendation to me.

- I'm a great advocate for timidity in a woman. - Indeed.

- But one doesn't often meet with it these days. - No, that is very true.

Yes, Jane Fairfax is a delightful creature and I shall have her very often to my house.

And I shall make it my business to see that she finds a good situation.

My acquaintance is so extensive that I'm sure to of hear of something suitable.

- With people of consequence, I mean. - Of course.

Which reminds me, Mrs Weston seemed a good-hearted, motherly creature, I thought.

She was your governess, I believe. I was surprised to find her so much the gentlewoman.

Mrs Weston is a very old and valued friend of my family, Mrs Elton.

And on returning her call, guess who was among the company? Knightley himself.

- Who? - Knightley, from Donwell Abbey.

You surely know him.

I confess, I had a great curiosity to see him after what I'd heard from my caro sposo.

I liked him, Miss Woodhouse, yes, I did.

I don't know your opinion of him, but I liked him very well.

His manner to me I thought particularly open and friendly and gentlemanlike.

I am not ashamed to admit, he impressed me most favourably.

- (DOOR BANGS) - That sounds like my lord and master returning!

- If you will excuse us... - Shh. Here, my love, in the drawing-room!

I'm sorry, my dearest Augusta, but I was held up by Mr Cole.

- Oh. - There. Is not this a pleasant surprise?

Yes, my love.

Insufferable woman! Intolerable creature!

- Knightley, indeed! I could not have believed it. - Nevertheless, it is my name.

And to discover that you are a gentleman (!)

I doubt that you will be able to return the compliment by finding her to be a lady.

- I doubt it very much indeed! - Emma, Emma.

Oh... vulgar creature!

Little upstart, with her lord and master and her caro sposo!

Oh... and her silly affectations and underbred finery,

and to propose that she and I should form a music club,

as though we were bosom companions.

- And shall you? - No, sir, I shall not.

I fancy she already finds me far less amenable than she had hoped.

- Jane Fairfax is to be her chosen companion. - Jane Fairfax? I'm sorry to hear that.

"I shall have her very often to my house, I can assure you."

It's a pleasure to which she is most welcome!

- Emma, I must hold you partly to blame for this. - Me?! Why, pray?

If you had befriended her, she would not have fallen victim to Mrs Elton.

Mr Knightley, I am surprised to hear you say that.

I would have thought that with your high opinions of her qualities,

you would think Miss Fairfax capable of forming her own judgements.

I've never made any secret of my good opinion of her.

In fact, I sometimes wonder if the extent of your admiration does not one day take you by surprise!

So that is what you think, eh?

- I was speaking in jest only... - You are not the only one.

Others have said the same thing.

I was not serious.

But it will never be, I'm afraid.

In the first place, I dare say she would not have me if I asked her,

and in the second,

I am very sure that I shall not ask her.

You are not vain, Mr Knightley, I will say that for you.

And so you have been settling that I shall marry Jane Fairfax. Well, well, well.

- (CHUCKLES) - No, indeed, I have not.

You have scolded me far too much in the past for matchmaking

for me to ever take such a liberty with you.

Besides, the truth is, I have no wish for you to marry Jane Fairfax

or Jane anybody else, for that matter,

because if you did, you could not come and sit with us in this comfortable, happy way,

as you have always done in the past.

I don't think that the extent of my admiration for her will ever take me by surprise.

I've never thought of her in that way, I assure you.

She is a charming young woman, but...

she has a fault.

A fault? Jane Fairfax?

Oh, I beg your pardon.

She has feeling, her sensibilities are strong, I'm sure, but...

she's reserved. Too reserved.

More so than she used to be, I think.

And above all things,

I love a good open temper.

Father, may I speak to you a moment?

Er, y... By all means, my dear.

Shut the door, would you? There's a disagreeable draught about my legs.

- It IS shut. - What? Oh.

Father, I feel we are obliged to invite Mr and Mrs Elton to supper.

- They have been returned now almost a month. - Mrs Elton, did you say? Oh, dear.

Yes, Papa, I understand your feelings.

I mean no reflection on the young lady. She seems quite a pretty, pleasant young person.

There's a quickness about the voice that hurts the ear,

and I think I am rather nice on that subject.

Dear Miss Taylor was always so quiet-spoken. But ask her by all means, my dear, if you wish.

But it is not just a question of my wishes, Papa.

And make my apologies to her for not having called to pay my respects.

She must surely be aware of the fact that you do not pay visits.

But, my dear, not to call upon a young bride is very remiss.

A bride takes first place in company, whoever the others may be.

Well, really, Papa, if this is not encouragement to marry, I do not know what is.

I thought you were no friend to matrimony.

My dear, you do not understand me. This is mere common politeness and good breeding.

It has nothing to do with my opinion of marriage.

So you will please explain to her the reasons for my neglect, if you will.

Very well, Papa. If you wish.

We shall be only a small company.

Unfortunately Mr Weston has to go to London on business that day

and I have decided not to include Harriet on this occasion.

I fancy she will fully appreciate the reason.

Had Mrs Elton chosen to live anywhere else, I would have tried to set my scruples aside.

Ah, dear, it shows what a sad invalid I am.

But I do not like that corner into Vicarage Lane. The carriage tilts so.

- You positively must sit and talk to me. - But I still have several errands...

Your aunt will not miss you for a few moments longer.

Tell me, have you received an invitation from Hartfield?

- I have. - Oh, I'm so glad. Then I shall accept.

I told Mr E this morning, "I shall not answer till I know that dear Jane is to be at the party."

(CHUCKLES) To tell truth, I think I could not face the prospect

without the company of at least one congenial member of my own sex.

You and I may exchange glances privately on occasion, I fancy, may we not?

(MRS ELTON CHUCKLES)

But my only concern is what to wear. What do you advise?

Entertaining at Maple Grove was so different.

There everything was on such a large scale, nothing out of place.

But here I feel a danger lies in the opposite direction.

The most ordinary of gowns at Maple Grove would seem like an ostentation here,

and that's something I cannot abide.

Thank you, Mr Woodhouse. My husband is so distressed that he couldn't come,

but he hopes to call in on his way back.

And you came all this way quite unattended? Dear Miss Taylor, was that wise?

It only takes ten minutes from Randalls.

I'd scarcely put the rug round my ankles before it was time to get out.

But James would have gone for you. He is so reliable.

Why did you not think of it, Emma?

You'd have had no cause for anxiety with James, I assure you.

But Mrs Weston is not anxious, and her own man is just as dependable, I am sure.

- Oh, yes, just. - Well, James shall take you back, then,

and, my dear, you may leave as early as you please.

(MR WOODHOUSE) Excuse me.

- I trust you did not venture far this morning? - Mr Knightley.

- I saw you in the high street, did I not? - I was not aware, I didn't see you.

I was in the farrier's. I trust you did not get wet before you got home?

I went to the post office. I was back almost before the rain started.

What is this? Do I understand that you got caught in the rain?

- Only for the merest moment, Mr Woodhouse. - But young ladies are delicate plants.

They must take great care of themselves. You changed your stockings, I hope?

Oh, I did, sir, and thank you for your concern,

but the whole matter really was of no importance at all.

- (MRS ELTON) Mr Woodhouse? - Excuse me. Yes?

So you make yourself useful to your aunt?

It is my daily errand to fetch letters.

It saves trouble, gets me out of the house and the walk does me good.

- Miss Jane, you make me feel my years. - Why is that, Mr Knightley?

There is a period in our lives when the post office holds a particular charm.

When you have lived a little longer, you will find that letters are seldom worth getting wet for.

You are speaking of business letters. Mine are letters of friendship.

Besides, you have everyone dearest to you close at hand, Mr Knightley.

I probably never shall have.

Oh, really? Why so... why so melancholy?

So, until I have outlived all my affections,

the post office will draw me out in worse weather than today's.

Jane? Jane, what's all this about going to the post office in the rain, you sad girl?

- How could you do such a thing? - Really, why is everyone making such a fuss?

Really, you're a very sad girl. I shall have to take you firmly in hand.

You are extremely kind, I'm sure, but I like my early morning walk.

Not in the rain, dear, surely. You always used to take such severe colds, I remember.

Oh, she shall not do such a thing again, Mrs Weston, I shall see to it.

No, there must be... One of our men must go.

- No, really... - I shall speak to Mr E about it.

- Dearest? He'll see that it's done. - Yes, my love?

My dearest, poor Jane has to go to the post office every morning to fetch her letters.

- Today she got drenched to the skin. - Oh, that will not do, Miss Fairfax.

Madam, that is not so. Besides, it is my own choice that I should go.

So, may not one of our fellows - George or Harry, whatever their names may be - go for her?

- Of course. - That's settled, so let's hear no more...

Excuse me, but I cannot consent to such an arrangement.

Nonsense! Mr Elton, tell her the matter's closed. She'll listen to you.

Perhaps, my love, Miss Jane has other reasons for wishing to venture abroad in the mornings.

Perhaps there is a... a secret admirer.

Goodness gracious, I confess that's something that did not even enter my head!

Oh, trust my good lord and master to think of such a thing.

Sir, you have a mischievous imagination.

The post office is a wonderful establishment, I always think. Do not you, Mrs Weston?

Oh, indeed. So many thousands of letters passing about the country and so few that go astray,

in spite of the hands, and some bad ones too, that they are written in...

So seldom anybody takes the trouble to write clearly and boldly these days.

Mr Frank Churchill is one of the few I can think of who does.

- His hand is so small, more like a woman's. - No, it is not, Mr Knightley, not at all.

We cannot put it to the test, I'm afraid, as we have no specimen to examine.

At least, I have not.

You will have to ask Mrs Weston to show you some of his letters, as she has done to me.

And now if you will all please come into the dining room...

- Madam, may I have the honour... - Oh, must I go first?

- I'm quite ashamed of always leading the way. - Miss Jane.

Please come this way.

If you're familiar with Bristol... Thank you...

you must know my brother-in-law Suckling's place.

It's quite one of the places to be seen.

The grounds are not extensive, not greatly larger than these,

- but of quite remarkable beauty. - (OTHERS CONVERSE)

In fact, I've heard many gentlemen declare

the view of the house when approaching in the barouche-landau

is as delightful as anything in Europe.

If you mean a fling at the slave trade, Mr Suckling was a friend to the abolition.

I pray with all my heart that the gentlemen may not take too long over the port,

or I shall be guilty of some sort of incivility.

Emma, Emma, do exercise a little self-control. We all have our foibles, you know.

Oh, I know, and I'm sure I have plenty myself,

but there is a certain quality in her voice which I find infuriating.

My dear, shh.

Oh, I had hoped Mr Weston would be back from London by now.

He has gone to seek news of Mrs Churchill from her lawyers.

I do hope she has improved. Frank is most anxious to return to Highbury.

- I am sure you must all look forward to that. - Oh, yes. We all do.

Your aunt tells me that you're worried

because you do not yet have a suitable teaching appointment.

That is not strictly true, because my future plans are still a little uncertain.

Mm. I didn't wonder at your concern, I must say,

because when Mr Suckling advertised a similar post recently,

he had an absolute infinity of applications, I remember.

That was a special case, I do admit, a sought-after situation.

Wax candles in the schoolroom, even. You can imagine how desirable.

- That place is filled, unfortunately. - Please don't trouble on my account, Mrs Elton.

- I shall make my own enquiries, but not just yet. - My dear child, it's no trouble, I assure you.

I shall write to my sister at Maple Grove tomorrow.

She'll know of all the suitable families who are requiring help.

Yes, now, why did I not think of that before? Have no fear, Jane my love,

a word from me and I'm confident you'll find the situation you deserve.

Excuse me, ma'am, but I'd be much obliged if you'd do no such thing.

Ah!

Here comes my old beau, as I call him.

Fancy his coming away before all the other gentlemen like an eager young fellow of 20.

Honestly, some of his gallantries at the dinner table upon the cut of my gown and so on

were such that I almost hoped my caro sposo wasn't around.

But one can't take exception to such pretty speeches from a man his age, I always think.

Besides, there's something rather gentlemanly about his manner, wouldn't you say?

- Emma! I have an addition to your number. - Good evening... Mrs Elton.

- My love. - Mr Weston, you are very welcome.

I shall be welcome enough when you've heard my news.

Well, he's coming back. Frank is to return to us at Randalls almost immediately.

Oh, that is wonderful news, wonderful news, is it not, Emma dear?

Yes, indeed it is, very good news.

I always said he'd be back soon, did I not? It's to be next week at the latest.

- Next week? - That is my information.

Mrs Churchill is of the opinion that only a London doctor can effect a cure on her behalf,

so she's taken a place in Richmond for the season. Well, is that not capital news?

- They are coming to Richmond? - Yes, my love.

Then we may revive our plans for the ball.

- Who, pray, is this Frank Churchill? - I shall call at the Crown tomorrow.

And he asked most particularly that he might re-engage himself to you for the opening dance.

Did he, Mr Weston? That was most kind of him.

So, in spite of being too late for dinner, I've not exactly wasted my day, have I, my dear? Eh?

- Eh? - No, Mr Weston, you have not.

Synchro: Peterlin