years
hence - to have his fireside enlivened by the sports and the nonsense, the
freaks and the fancies of a child never banished from home; and Mrs. Weston - no
one could doubt that a daughter would be most to her; and it would be quite a
pity that any one who so well knew how to teach, should not have their powers in
exercise again.
    »She has had the advantage, you know, of practising on me,« she continued -
»like La Baronne d'Almane on La Comtesse d'Ostalis, in Madame de Genlis'
Adelaide and Theodore, and we shall now see her own little Adelaide educated on
a more perfect plan.«
    »That is,« replied Mr. Knightley, »she will indulge her even more than she
did you, and believe that she does not indulge her at all. It will be the only
difference.«
    »Poor child!« cried Emma; »at that rate, what will become of her?«
    »Nothing very bad. - The fate of thousands. She will be disagreeable in
infancy, and correct herself as she grows older. I am losing all my bitterness
against spoilt children, my dearest Emma. I, who am owing all my happiness to
you, would not it be horrible ingratitude in me to be severe on them?«
    Emma laughed, and replied: »But I had the assistance of all your endeavours
to counteract the indulgence of other people. I doubt whether my own sense would
have corrected me without it.«
    »Do you? - I have no doubt. Nature gave you understanding: - Miss Taylor
gave you principles. You must have done well. My interference was quite as
likely to do harm as good. It was very natural for you to say, what right has he
to lecture me? - and I am afraid very natural for you to feel that it was done
in a disagreeable manner. I do not believe I did you any good. The good was all
to myself, by making you an object of the tenderest affection to me. I could not
think about you so much without doating on you, faults and all; and by dint of
fancying so many errors, have been in love with you ever since you were thirteen
at least.«
    »I am sure you were of use to me,« cried Emma. »I was very often influenced
rightly by you - oftener than I would own at the time. I am very sure you did me
good. And if poor little Anna Weston is to be spoiled, it will