 every
respect, it suited Emma best to lead, she gave a very proper compliance.
    She knew the limitations of her own powers too well to attempt more than she
could perform with credit; she wanted neither taste nor spirit in the little
things which are generally acceptable, and could accompany her own voice well.
One accompaniment to her song took her agreeably by surprize - a second,
slightly but correctly taken by Frank Churchill. Her pardon was duly begged at
the close of the song, and every thing usual followed. He was accused of having
a delightful voice, and a perfect knowledge of music; which was properly denied;
and that he knew nothing of the matter, and had no voice at all, roundly
asserted. They sang together once more; and Emma would then resign her place to
Miss Fairfax, whose performance, both vocal and instrumental, she never could
attempt to conceal from herself, was infinitely superior to her own.
    With mixed feelings, she seated herself at a little distance from the
numbers round the instrument, to listen. Frank Churchill sang again. They had
sung together once or twice, it appeared, at Weymouth. But the sight of Mr.
Knightley among the most attentive, soon drew away half Emma's mind; and she
fell into a train of thinking on the subject of Mrs. Weston's suspicions, to
which the sweet sounds of the united voices gave only momentary interruptions.
Her objections to Mr. Knightley's marrying did not in the least subside. She
could see nothing but evil in it. It would be a great disappointment to Mr. John
Knightley; consequently to Isabella. A real injury to the children - a most
mortifying change, and material loss to them all; - a very great deduction from
her father's daily comfort - and, as to herself, she could not at all endure the
idea of Jane Fairfax at Donwell Abbey. A Mrs. Knightley for them all to give way
to! - No - Mr. Knightley must never marry. Little Henry must remain the heir of
Donwell.
    Presently Mr. Knightley looked back, and came and sat down by her. They
talked at first only of the performance. His admiration was certainly very warm;
yet she thought, but for Mrs. Weston, it would not have struck her. As a sort of
touchstone, however, she began to speak of his kindness in conveying the aunt
and niece; and though his answer was in the spirit of cutting the matter short,
she believed it to indicate only his disinclination to dwell on any kindness of
his own
