"Emma!" cried he, looking eagerly at her, "are you, indeed?"-but checking himself-"No, no, I understand you-forgive me-I am pleased that you can say even so much.-He is no object of regret, indeed! and it will not be very long, I hope, before that becomes the acknowledgment of more than your reason.-Fortunate that your affections were not farther entangled!-I could never, I confess, from your manners, assure myself as to the degree of what you felt-I could only be certain that there was a preference-and a preference which I never believed him to deserve.-He is a disgrace to the name of man.-And is he to be rewarded with that sweet young woman?-Jane, Jane, you will be a miserable creature."
"Mr. Knightley," said Emma, trying to be lively, but really confused-"I am in a very extraordinary situation. I cannot let you continue in your error; and yet, perhaps, since my manners gave such an impression, I have as much reason to be ashamed of confessing that I never have been at all attached to the person we are speaking of, as it might be natural for a woman to feel in confessing exactly the reverse.-But I never have."
He listened in perfect silence. She wished him to speak, but he would not. She supposed she must say more before she were entitled to his clemency; but it was a hard case to be obliged still to lower herself in his opinion. She went on, however.
"I have very little to say for my own conduct.-I was tempted by his attentions, and allowed myself to appear pleased.-An old story, probably-a common case-and no more than has happened to hundreds of my sex before; and yet it may not be the more excusable in one who sets up as I do for Understanding. Many circumstances assisted the temptation. He was the son of Mr. Weston-he was continually here-I always found him very pleasant-and, in short, for (with a sigh) let me swell out the causes ever so ingeniously, they all centre in this at last-my vanity was flattered, and I allowed his attentions. Latterly, however-for some time, indeed-I have had no idea of their meaning any thing.-I thought them a habit, a trick, nothing that called for seriousness on my side.
He has imposed on me, but he has not injured me. I have never been attached to him. And now I can tolerably comprehend his behaviour.
He never wished to attach me. It was merely a blind to conceal his real situation with another.-It was his object to blind all about him; and no one, I am sure, could be more effectually blinded than myself-except that I was not blinded-that it was my good fortune-that, in short, I was somehow or other safe from him."
She had hoped for an answer here-for a few words to say that her conduct was at least intelligible; but he was silent; and, as far as she could judge, deep in thought. At last, and tolerably in his usual tone, he said,
"I have never had a high opinion of Frank Churchill.-I can suppose, however, that I may have underrated him. My acquaintance with him has been but trifling.-And even if I have not underrated him hitherto, he may yet turn out well.-With such a woman he has a chance.-I have no motive for wishing him ill-and for her sake, whose happiness will be involved in his good character and conduct, I shall certainly wish him well."
"I have no doubt of their being happy together," said Emma;
"I believe them to be very mutually and very sincerely attached."