“I do not know, my dear—but it is so long since she was here!—not since last Easter, and then only for a few days.— Mr. John Knightley’s being a lawyer is very inconvenient.—Poor Isabella!—she is sadly taken away from us all!—and how sorry she will be when she comes, not to see Miss Taylor here!”
“She will not be surprised, papa, at least.”
“I do not know, my dear. I am sure I was very much surprised when I first heard she was going to be married.”
“We must ask Mr. and Mrs. Weston to dine with us, while Isabella is here.”
“Yes, my dear, if there is time.—But—(in a very depressed tone)—she is coming for only one week. There will not be time for anything.”
“It is unfortunate that they cannot stay longer—but it seems a case of necessity. Mr. John Knightley must be in town again on the 28th, and we ought to be thankful, papa, that we are to have the whole of the time they can give to the country, that two or three days are not to be taken out for the Abbey. Mr. Knightley promises to give up his claim this Christmas—though you know it is longer since they were with him, than with us.”
“It would be very hard, indeed, my dear, if poor Isabella were to be anywhere but at Hartfield.”
Mr. Woodhouse could never allow for Mr. Knightley’s claims on his brother, or anybody’s claims on Isabella, except his own. He sat musing a little while, and then said,
“But I do not see why poor Isabella should be obliged to go back so soon, though he does. I think, Emma, I shall try and persuade her to stay longer with us. She and the children might stay very well.”