Emma.

Not that one.

The next.

How am I to bear it when you are gone?

I am going only half a mile, Emma.

But great is the difference between a Mrs. Weston half a mile away

and a Miss Taylor in the house.

Dear Emma.

You have been a friend and companion such as few possess.

A governess in office, but little short of a mother in affection.

I wish you every happiness on your wedding day.

Poor Miss Taylor!

It's a pity Mr. Weston ever thought of her.

Papa, Mr. Weston is such a good-humored, pleasant, excellent man.

He thoroughly deserves a good wife.

And you would not have had Miss Taylor live with us forever

when she might have had a house of her own.

A house of her own? Where is the advantage of a house of her own?

This is... three times as large.

It's entirely unnecessary. Poor Miss Taylor. Poor Isabella.

My sister married seven years ago, Papa. You must be reconciled to it by now.

That was a terrible day.

It shall always be a matter of great joy to me that I made the match myself.

Everyone said Mr. Weston would never marry again, but I did not believe it.

Emma, you should not make matches or foretell things.

Whatever you say always comes to pass. You must not make any more.

I promise to make none for myself, Papa.

But I must indeed for other people.

It is the greatest amusement in the world.

And after such success, you know.

- -Miss Bates. Mrs. Bates.

Miss Gilbert. Mrs. Cox.

Mr. Woodhouse, sir. Miss Woodhouse.

Mr. Cole. Mrs. Cole.

Miss Woodhouse.

Miss Woodhouse!

Morning.

Is this not the most happy, happy, the most fortunate?

This morning I could not get my bonnet on for trembling.

Hmm.

Surrounded by blessings.

Wanting for nothing.

I am trembling again.

It is too joyful!

What is it, Emma?

I have a fancy that Mr. Weston's son may surprise us.

Frank Weston?

He's Frank Churchill now, Papa.

He's his uncle's heir.

When he came of age, he took his uncle's name. I so long to meet him.

But how do you know he might surprise us?

It is his father's wedding day.

Mr. Weston speaks of him so highly. I cannot doubt that he will come.

Poor Miss Taylor.

Dearly beloved friends,

we gather here in the sight of God

to join together this man and this woman...

..in holy matrimony, an honorable estate instituted by God

in this time of-- of man's great innocence.

"Innocence"?

Innocence. No?

Well.

Mother, you must eat. It is impolite not to eat.

You know what I'm about to say, sir.

"Why do you keep a carriage if you never put it out?"

It's just such a shame to see it standing by.

-A gentleman on foot, it's unusual. -Unusual.

Good evening, Mrs. Reynolds.

At last. Mr. Knightley.

You must have had a shocking walk.

Not at all, sir. It's a beautiful evening.

You must have found it very damp and dirty.

Dirty, sir? Look at my shoes. Not a speck on them.

How do you do? I came to wish you joy.

Joy?

Oh, the wedding. What a terrible day.

So, how did you all behave? Who cried the most?

We all behaved charmingly. Everybody was in their best looks.

Not a tear and hardly a long face to be seen.

Bring the screen a little closer. Mr. Knightley feels a chill.

And what of Mr. Frank Churchill?

Is he every bit as handsome as his father promised he would be?

He did not come?

You see, he wished exceedingly to come,

but his aunt and uncle could not spare him.

Well, I daresay he might have come if he could.

I do not know why you should say so.

If Frank Churchill had wanted to attend his father's wedding,

he would have contrived it. He-- He chose not to come.

We have never met Mr. Frank Churchill.

We do not know what he is able or unable to do.

There is one thing, Emma,

which a man can always do if he chooses, and that is his duty.

It is Frank Churchill's duty to pay this attention to his father.

He also has a duty to his aunt, who is unwell.

Mrs. Churchill has been unwell for as long as she could say so.

Her nephew is not a doctor.

If he had told her simply and resolutely that he--

- -Shh.

...that he must attend his father's wedding,

there would have been no opposition to his going.

You are the worst judge in the world, Mr. Knightley,

of the difficulties of dependence.

You have always been your own master.

You've no idea what it is to have tempers to manage.

I shall remember that next time you quarrel with me.

There is a new parlor boarder, Papa,

at Mrs. Goddard's school-- Miss Smith.

There. Distinctly.

Do you feel it? A chill draft. A chill and sickly draft.

She's a natural child.

Nobody knows her parentage, not even Miss Smith herself.

Is that not mysterious?

Miss Taylor would have felt it.

The misfortune of your birth, Harriet,

ought to make you particularly careful as to your associates.

There can be no doubt of your being a gentleman's daughter.

You must support your claim to that station by everything within your power.

Know you the Martins, Miss Woodhouse, of Abbey Mill Farm?

I know that they are tenant farmers. They rent their farm from Mr. Knightley.

They were ever so kind to me this summer.

Thank you.

When I went away, Mrs. Martin was so very kind

as to send Mrs. Goddard a beautiful goose.

The finest goose Mrs. Goddard had ever seen, she said.

The Martins are of precisely the order of people

with whom I feel I can have nothing to do.

A degree or two lower might interest me.

If they were very poor I might hope to be useful to them in some way.

But a farmer can need none of my help,

and is therefore as much above my notice as he is below it.

Mr. Robert Martin went three miles one day to bring me walnuts

because he knew how fond I was of them.

I believe he's very clever. He understands everything.

Come.

After tea, we shall call on my dear Mrs. Weston.

We promised we should be seeing one another every day.

It was a beautiful service, Mr. Elton.

I'm not the first to visit you this morning.

You are no less welcome for being the second.

Mr. Elton, Miss Harriet Smith.

It is my great honor.

Harriet, you must sit over there,

that you may admire the view of Enscombe.

Mr. Frank Churchill is the artist.

I have heard it described as one of the finest houses in Yorkshire.

I have heard the same.

And Mr. Churchill is to inherit the entire estate.

He is very fortunate.

There is such symmetry between us.

We both lost our mothers when we were very young.

And he has his aunt to care for, as I have Papa.

But how can we admire a painted beauty

with such loveliness before us in the flesh?

Mr. Elton is such a good-humored man.

So cheerful and obliging. And gentle.

I think very well of Mr. Elton.

I do so wonder, Miss Woodhouse,

that you should not be going to be married,

so charming as you are.

I have none of the usual inducements of women to marry.

Fortune I do not want. Employment I do not want.

Consequence I do not want.

I believe few married women are half as much mistress of their husband's house

as I am of Hartfield.

You must come again tomorrow.

Thank you, Miss Woodhouse. Thank you.

Miss Woodhouse, which do you prefer?

They are practically identical.

Of course, if the dark gets dirty, it would not show. But the light--

The dark then.

The light is a good deal prettier.

Miss Woodhouse, what's the matter?

Miss Woodhouse.

Miss Woodhouse. How do you do?

And you, Miss Smith. I saw you through the window.

-I saw you through the window. -

Miss Woodhouse, I bring happy news.

We have had a letter this very morning from my niece, Jane Fairfax.

I hope that she is well.

In normal course she writes on a Tuesday, but today--

Oh, her health. Oh.

Miss Woodhouse, you are so very kind to inquire.

Poor Jane. She was at Weymouth with Colonel Campbell. And--