“I am going to Redborough,” Hester said. “I have some things to do for mamma.”
“Oh, you must take me with you,” said Emma—“just one moment till I have turned this heel. I never like to leave a heel midway. I want to see Redborough of all things. Grandmamma, you will not mind me leaving you—I want to see all I can, as I don’t know how long I may stay.”
“Do you mind, Hester?” the old lady said in a little alarm, as having finished the heel, and put her knitting carefully away in a long basket made to hold the length of her needles, Emma went upstairs to get her hat. Hester laughed a little and hesitated, for though she was not moved to enthusiasm by Emma, she was young enough to like the novelty of a new companion, whoever that might be.
“I hope she will not make me take her to see Catherine. Catherine would not be very gracious to anyone whom I brought her. Dear Mrs. Morgan, I wanted to ask you—Was Catherine—Did Catherine—”
“What, my dear?”
“Nothing—I can’t tell you before anyone. It was something I heard from—last night. Yes, I am quite ready, Miss Ashton,” Hester said.
“It is grand to be called Miss Ashton, but I wish you would say Emma. It makes me feel as if I were someone’s governess when you say Miss Ashton. I nearly was,” said Emma. “You know we are a large family, eight of us, and we had no money. I am sure I can’t tell how we managed to grow up. It was thanks to Elinor I believe; she was the only one who could manage papa. And now they are all provided for, but only me. Elinor and Bee made very good marriages, and Kate didn’t do so badly either, but she’s gone to India. The others were to help me between them, but that is not very nice. They are always scheming to have as little of you as they can, and to make the others have too much. I never would give in to that. I always kept to my day. I used to say ‘No, Bee, my time is up. I don’t mind where you put me (for I never made any fuss in that sort of way, it turns the servants against you), I can sleep anywhere, but you must keep your turn. Elinor shan’t be put upon if I can help it,’ and the short and the long of it was that I had as nearly as possible taken a governess’s place.”
“That would have been better surely—to be independent,” Hester said.
“In some ways. To have a paid salary would be very nice—but it hurts a girl’s chance. Oh, yes, it does,” said Emma, “there is no doubt of it: people say not when they want to coax you into it, but it does—and as all the others have married so well, of course I was very unwilling to do anything to damage my chance.”
“What was your chance?” said Hester with a set countenance: partly she did not know, and partly from the context she divined, and meant to crush her companion with lofty indignation: but Emma was not quick enough to perceive the moral disapproval. She was not even conscious that it was possible to disapprove of such an elemental necessity.
“Oh, you know very well,” she said with a little laugh. “I have never been a flirt. I haven’t got any inclination that way. Of course in my position I would think it my duty to consider any offer. But I was very nearly driven to the governessing,” she continued calmly. “Elinor had visitors coming, and Bee was so ill-natured as to start painting and papering just as I was due there. Can you imagine anything more nasty? just to be able to say she could not take me in! I just said I must take a situation, and they were in a way. But I do really believe I should have done it had it not been for Roland. He said it would suit him very well to have me. He had just got a house of his own, you know, and I could be of use to him. So he took me, which was very kind. It is a little dull after being used to children, but I have scarcely anything to do, and he gives me a little allowance for my clothes. Don’t you think it is very kind?”
“I would much rather be a governess,” Hester said with a glow of indignant pride. This matter-of-fact description of the state of dependence, which was made without any sense of injury at all, with the composure of an individual fully capable of holding her own and looking for nothing else, had an effect upon her sensitive mind which it is impossible to describe. She shrank from the revelation as if it had been something terrible; and yet it was not terrible at all, but the most calm historic account of a state of affairs which seemed perfectly natural to everyone concerned. Emma knew that she would herself have employed any possible expedient to get rid of an unnecessary member of her household, especially such a detrimental as “the youngest”—and she was not angry with Bee.
“Ah, you don’t know children,” said Emma serenely. “I have been used to them all my life, and I know what demons they are; and then it does so spoil your chances in life. Being with Roland is very nice you know, he never orders me about, and he gives me an allowance for my clothes, as I told you. But it is much duller. At Elinor’s and Bee’s, and even at William’s, there’s a little life going on. Now and then you can’t help seeing people. Even when your sisters don’t wish it, people will ask you out when they know you’re there. And
