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

Mr. John Knightley was a tall, gentleman-like, and very clever man; rising in his profession, domestic, and respectable in his private character; but with reserved manners which prevented his being generally pleasing; and capable of being sometimes out of humour.  He was not an ill-tempered man, not so often unreasonably cross as to deserve such a reproach; but his temper was not his great perfection; and, indeed, with such a worshipping wife, it was hardly possible that any natural defects in it should not be increased.  The extreme sweetness of her temper must hurt his.  He had all the clearness and quickness of mind which she wanted, and he could sometimes act an ungracious, or say a severe thing.

He was not a great favourite with his fair sister-in-law.  Nothing wrong in him escaped her.  She was quick in feeling the little injuries to Isabella, which Isabella never felt herself.  Perhaps she might have passed over more had his manners been flattering to Isabella’s sister, but they were only those of a calmly kind brother and friend, without praise and without blindness; but hardly any degree of personal compliment could have made her regardless of that greatest fault of all in her eyes which he sometimes fell into, the want of respectful forbearance towards her father.  There he had not always the patience that could have been wished.  Mr. Woodhouse’s peculiarities and fidgetiness were sometimes provoking him to a rational remonstrance or sharp retort equally ill-bestowed.  It did not often happen; for Mr. John Knightley had really a great regard for his father-in-law, and generally a strong sense of what was due to him; but it was too often for Emma’s charity, especially as there was all the pain of apprehension frequently to be endured, though the offence came not.  The beginning, however, of every visit displayed none but the properest feelings, and this being of necessity so short might be hoped to pass away in unsullied cordiality.  They had not been long seated and composed when Mr. Woodhouse, with a melancholy shake of the head and a sigh, called his daughter’s attention to the sad change at Hartfield since she had been there last.

“Ah, my dear,” said he, “poor Miss Taylor—­It is a grievous business.”

“Oh yes, sir,” cried she with ready sympathy, “how you must miss her!  And dear Emma, too!—­What a dreadful loss to you both!—­ I have been so grieved for you.—­I could not imagine how you could possibly do without her.—­It is a sad change indeed.—­But I hope she is pretty well, sir.”

“Pretty well, my dear—­I hope—­pretty well.—­I do not know but that the place agrees with her tolerably.”

Mr. John Knightley here asked Emma quietly whether there were any doubts of the air of Randalls.

“Oh! no—­none in the least.  I never saw Mrs. Weston better in my life—­ never looking so well.  Papa is only speaking his own regret.”

“Very much to the honour of both,” was the handsome reply.

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