 had been used to cavil at, as wanting colour, had a clearness and
delicacy which really needed no fuller bloom. It was a style of beauty, of which
elegance was the reigning character, and as such, she must, in honour, by all
her principles, admire it: - elegance, which, whether of person or of mind, she
saw so little in Highbury. There, not to be vulgar, was distinction, and merit.
    In short, she sat, during the first visit, looking at Jane Fairfax with
twofold complacency; the sense of pleasure and the sense of rendering justice,
and was determining that she would dislike her no longer. When she took in her
history, indeed, her situation, as well as her beauty; when she considered what
all this elegance was destined to, what she was going to sink from, how she was
going to live, it seemed impossible to feel any thing but compassion and
respect; especially, if to every well-known particular entitling her to
interest, were added the highly probable circumstance of an attachment to Mr.
Dixon, which she had so naturally started to herself. In that case, nothing
could be more pitiable or more honourable than the sacrifices she had resolved
on. Emma was very willing now to acquit her of having seduced Mr. Dixon's
affections from his wife, or of any thing mischievous which her imagination had
suggested at first. If it were love, it might be simple, single, successless
love on her side alone. She might have been unconsciously sucking in the sad
poison, while a sharer of his conversation with her friend; and from the best,
the purest of motives, might now be denying herself this visit to Ireland, and
resolving to divide herself effectually from him and his connections by soon
beginning her career of laborious duty.
    Upon the whole, Emma left her with such softened, charitable feelings, as
made her look around in walking home, and lament that Highbury afforded no young
man worthy of giving her independence; nobody that she could wish to scheme
about for her.
    These were charming feelings - but not lasting. Before she had committed
herself by any public profession of eternal friendship for Jane Fairfax, or done
more towards a recantation of past prejudices and errors, than saying to Mr.
Knightley, »She certainly is handsome; she is better than handsome!« Jane had
spent an evening at Hartfield with her grandmother and aunt, and every thing was
relapsing much into its usual state. Former provocations re-appeared. The aunt
was as tiresome as ever; more
