Emma | Page 7

no
longer teased by being wished joy of so sorrowful an event; and the
wedding-cake, which had been a great distress to him, was all eat up.
His own stomach could bear nothing rich, and he could never believe
other people to be different from himself. What was unwholesome to
him he regarded as unfit for any body; and he had, therefore, earnestly
tried to dissuade them from having any wedding-cake at all, and when
that proved vain, as earnestly tried to prevent any body's eating it. He

had been at the pains of consulting Mr. Perry, the apothecary, on the
subject. Mr. Perry was an intelligent, gentlemanlike man, whose
frequent visits were one of the comforts of Mr. Woodhouse's life; and
upon being applied to, he could not but acknowledge (though it seemed
rather against the bias of inclination) that wedding-cake might certainly
disagree with many--perhaps with most people, unless taken
moderately. With such an opinion, in confirmation of his own, Mr.
Woodhouse hoped to influence every visitor of the newly married pair;
but still the cake was eaten; and there was no rest for his benevolent
nerves till it was all gone.
There was a strange rumour in Highbury of all the little Perrys being
seen with a slice of Mrs. Weston's wedding-cake in their hands: but Mr.
Woodhouse would never believe it.
CHAPTER III
Mr. Woodhouse was fond of society in his own way. He liked very
much to have his friends come and see him; and from various united
causes, from his long residence at Hartfield, and his good nature, from
his fortune, his house, and his daughter, he could command the visits of
his own little circle, in a great measure, as he liked. He had not much
intercourse with any families beyond that circle; his horror of late hours,
and large dinner-parties, made him unfit for any acquaintance but such
as would visit him on his own terms. Fortunately for him, Highbury,
including Randalls in the same parish, and Donwell Abbey in the parish
adjoining, the seat of Mr. Knightley, comprehended many such. Not
unfrequently, through Emma's persuasion, he had some of the chosen
and the best to dine with him: but evening parties were what he
preferred; and, unless he fancied himself at any time unequal to
company, there was scarcely an evening in the week in which Emma
could not make up a card-table for him.
Real, long-standing regard brought the Westons and Mr. Knightley;
and by Mr. Elton, a young man living alone without liking it, the
privilege of exchanging any vacant evening of his own blank solitude
for the elegancies and society of Mr. Woodhouse's drawing-room, and

the smiles of his lovely daughter, was in no danger of being thrown
away.
After these came a second set; among the most come-at-able of whom
were Mrs. and Miss Bates, and Mrs. Goddard, three ladies almost
always at the service of an invitation from Hartfield, and who were
fetched and carried home so often, that Mr. Woodhouse thought it no
hardship for either James or the horses. Had it taken place only once a
year, it would have been a grievance.
Mrs. Bates, the widow of a former vicar of Highbury, was a very old
lady, almost past every thing but tea and quadrille. She lived with her
single daughter in a very small way, and was considered with all the
regard and respect which a harmless old lady, under such untoward
circumstances, can excite. Her daughter enjoyed a most uncommon
degree of popularity for a woman neither young, handsome, rich, nor
married. Miss Bates stood in the very worst predicament in the world
for having much of the public favour; and she had no intellectual
superiority to make atonement to herself, or frighten those who might
hate her into outward respect. She had never boasted either beauty or
cleverness. Her youth had passed without distinction, and her middle of
life was devoted to the care of a failing mother, and the endeavour to
make a small income go as far as possible. And yet she was a happy
woman, and a woman whom no one named without good-will. It was
her own universal good-will and contented temper which worked such
wonders. She loved every body, was interested in every body's
happiness, quicksighted to every body's merits; thought herself a most
fortunate creature, and surrounded with blessings in such an excellent
mother, and so many good neighbours and friends, and a home that
wanted for nothing. The simplicity and cheerfulness of her nature, her
contented and grateful spirit, were a recommendation to every body,
and a mine of felicity to herself. She was a great talker upon little
matters, which exactly suited Mr. Woodhouse, full of trivial
communications and harmless gossip.
Mrs. Goddard was