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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 469 pages of information about Emma.

This appeal to her affections did more than all the rest.  The idea of wanting gratitude and consideration for Miss Woodhouse, whom she really loved extremely, made her wretched for a while, and when the violence of grief was comforted away, still remained powerful enough to prompt to what was right and support her in it very tolerably.

“You, who have been the best friend I ever had in my life—­ Want gratitude to you!—­Nobody is equal to you!—­I care for nobody as I do for you!—­Oh!  Miss Woodhouse, how ungrateful I have been!”

Such expressions, assisted as they were by every thing that look and manner could do, made Emma feel that she had never loved Harriet so well, nor valued her affection so highly before.

“There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart,” said she afterwards to herself.  “There is nothing to be compared to it.  Warmth and tenderness of heart, with an affectionate, open manner, will beat all the clearness of head in the world, for attraction, I am sure it will.  It is tenderness of heart which makes my dear father so generally beloved—­which gives Isabella all her popularity.—­ I have it not—­but I know how to prize and respect it.—­Harriet is my superior in all the charm and all the felicity it gives.  Dear Harriet!—­I would not change you for the clearest-headed, longest-sighted, best-judging female breathing.  Oh! the coldness of a Jane Fairfax!—­Harriet is worth a hundred such—­And for a wife—­ a sensible man’s wife—­it is invaluable.  I mention no names; but happy the man who changes Emma for Harriet!”

CHAPTER XIV

Mrs. Elton was first seen at church:  but though devotion might be interrupted, curiosity could not be satisfied by a bride in a pew, and it must be left for the visits in form which were then to be paid, to settle whether she were very pretty indeed, or only rather pretty, or not pretty at all.

Emma had feelings, less of curiosity than of pride or propriety, to make her resolve on not being the last to pay her respects; and she made a point of Harriet’s going with her, that the worst of the business might be gone through as soon as possible.

She could not enter the house again, could not be in the same room to which she had with such vain artifice retreated three months ago, to lace up her boot, without recollecting.  A thousand vexatious thoughts would recur.  Compliments, charades, and horrible blunders; and it was not to be supposed that poor Harriet should not be recollecting too; but she behaved very well, and was only rather pale and silent.  The visit was of course short; and there was so much embarrassment and occupation of mind to shorten it, that Emma would not allow herself entirely to form an opinion of the lady, and on no account to give one, beyond the nothing-meaning terms of being “elegantly dressed, and very pleasing.”

She did not really like her.  She would not be in a hurry to find fault, but she suspected that there was no elegance;—­ease, but not elegance.—­ She was almost sure that for a young woman, a stranger, a bride, there was too much ease.  Her person was rather good; her face not unpretty; but neither feature, nor air, nor voice, nor manner, were elegant.  Emma thought at least it would turn out so.

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