Three days before the wedding of Mr. Knightley and Emma Woodhouse, there was a small get together of women at the Weston residence. Emma was not able to attend due to the wedding preparations, but Isabella, Mrs. Weston, Mrs. Bates, Miss Bates, and Mrs. Harriet Martin (most recently Smith) were all in attendance. They took this fortunate moment, together but without Miss Woodhouse, to discuss who exactly would take on the difficult task of giving Emma an explanation of marital duties.
“If my dear niece was still here, I think it would rather fall to me, and though I am unmarried and perhaps ought to have nothing to say about it, my mother thought it best that way for she could not really speak a word. Said I, ‘but I have no practical experience’ and she said that it would not be very material, for it is a rather simple thing. And I would have no difficulty explaining something of the sort, but my mother would find it very disagreeable,” said Miss Bates, “but as Jane has returned to her friends in town it does not much matter and I know that Mrs. Campbell or Mrs. Dixon will be so good as to explain everything to dearest Jane.”
Mrs. Weston was already very red and looking down at her work, “It would perhaps be better if the task did not fall to me,” she said softly, “I do not know if I can bear the explanation. I have not had a model; no one was at hand in my case.”
Isabella sniffed, “I did not have any advice when I married either and I think I have done well enough for myself.” She patted the front of her dress, emphasizing another promising condition. “John knew well enough what he was about.”
Harriet blushed, “It was Mrs. Goddard that told me, and she did not- it was not very helpful. I do not know; has she been married?”
“No, Harriet dear,” said Mrs. Weston, “It is an honorific because she is the owner of a school. Just like Mrs. Hodges, the housekeeper at Donwell Abbey.”
“Mrs. Hodges is unmarried? I- but I should have known, silly me,” said Harriet, but then returning to the matter at hand, she added, “I do not think I could be so very presumptuous with Miss Woodhouse, putting myself forward as knowing more than she might. I do not think it the right thing for me to tell her. It is you, Mrs. Weston, that know her best and has acted as her mother.”
Mrs. Weston did feel this responsibility, but thinking herself totally unequal to it, she said, “But Isabella is her sister and surely the more appropriate choice.”
Isabella did not agree, “I think it is entirely unnecessary! My brother George will know what to do and we need not interfere! Besides, John told me not to speak to her on the matter. He thought it not entirely proper, since Emma is marrying his brother.”
Mrs. Bates said, without anyone hearing as her daughter spoke at nearly the same time, “My memory may not be equal to the task. It has been nearly twenty years.”
Miss Bates began again, “Well if it is so disagreeable to you all, I can see no harm in the task falling to me, for you know I do not mind it in the least. I am sure Miss Woodhouse shall visit sometime or other before the wedding (it is still three days hence) and if I find a good chance, I will be more than equal to it. Let me only hear from each of you that I may have the best idea of what to tell her. There can be no danger you know, for a woman of my age knowing the truth of it.”
Mrs Weston, Isabella, and Harriet all looked at each other, feeling rather silly, but as each had their own reasons for not wanting to speak to Emma directly, they agreed that this arrangement must be best.
“Where are we to being?” said Mrs. Weston, with her eyes determinately fixed on her needlework.
“I suppose,” Harriet said, “well the very beginning would be- have you any idea of the specifics of, well you know, when one is not wearing clothes. But not ‘one’ but a ‘he’ if you take my meaning.”
“I am sure Miss Bates has- but then, you do not have any brothers or nephews do you?” said Isabella.
“No, I daresay I do not, for I only had my sister, dearly departed Jane, and then she only had the one daughter, Miss Fairfax as you know. I have never had the opportunity or the experience, you might say, of helping to care for a little boy.”
All the women fell silent.
Harriet said, “Oh if only we had Miss Woodhouse, she can draw so very well.”
Mrs. Weston said, “I think I could draw- well I suppose.” She put down her work and went to find some paper. A very rough sketch was attempted.
“Mrs. Weston,” said Harriet innocently, “I think you have made him too… tall.”
Isabella looked more closely, “Oh no! Certainly not too tall; not in the least too tall. Maybe, in fact, too short.”
Mrs. Weston looked back at her drawing uncertainly, “I think it gives one exactly the… idea of such a height.”
Harriet looked at it again with a frown, “Well, there are proportions, fore-shortening- which naturally presents a different- Oh! Well, I think it is enough of an idea.”
Isabella took another glance, “Is it supposed to be warm?”
Mrs. Weston snapped, “Of course it is warm! Why would I draw it otherwise for this sort of purpose? You know I have no means of comparison, but I think it a good likeness.”
“Very like,” said Harriet.
Isabella finally nodded.
“Oh! Well, I had not imagined,” began Miss Bates, “but now that I see the two sides, well a lot might be supposed just by this information. Yes, well, I think this would be almost enough for a girl like Miss Woodhouse, so intelligent and quick as she is,” she turned the paper sideways, considered it again, and continued, “So the woman is- and then- yes, I think I know very well what to make of it.”
Mrs. Weston, Isabella, and Harriet felt obliged to give Miss Bates a few more hints before they left her to her accepted duty. As Miss Bates had supposed, Miss Woodhouse did in fact visit the very next day and there was ample opportunity for the full disclosure to be made. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), Emma was thinking about her beloved and did not attend to a single word Miss Bates said, or even look up from her work to examine the drawing.
Luckily for Emma, Isabella was proved correct and Mr. Knightley had everything quite in hand.
———-
Several months later, Emma happened to catch sight of a rather poor drawing of a male figure in Miss Bates drawing room, nearly hidden by her huswife. As Emma examined it more closely, she could not call it a good likeness of her impressions at least. Far too short.
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Inspired by a suggestion on the AHA playground.
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