indeed, they do not. Mr. Knightley, who is away in London at his brother's, hears, while there, of Frank Churchill's engagement. He has always had some suspicion of the real state of affairs between Mr. Churchill and Miss Fairfax, and has even tried to warn Emma, who had repelled the suggestion with scorn; but he has feared that Emma's own affections were ensnared, and he has suffered much from the belief that his own cause was hopeless. Now all other feelings are swallowed up in his distress for what he supposes Emma is suffering; and when he makes his way to Hartfield, and sees her melancholy and depressed, his belief in her heart-broken state is confirmed. Nevertheless, during a walk in the garden, he is undeceived as to her supposed attachment for Frank Churchill, and, in the rush of delight that follows upon such a discovery, he cannot resist speaking for himself, with what rapturous results for both may be imagined.
"This one half-hour had given to each the same precious certainty of being beloved, had cleared from each the same degree of ignorance, jealousy, or distrust. On his side there had been a long-standing jealousy, old as the arrival, or even the expectation, of Frank Churchill. He had been in love with Emma and jealous of Frank Churchill from about the same period, one sentiment haying probably enlightened him as to the other. It was his jealousy of Frank Churchill that had taken him from the country. . . . He had gone to learn to be indifferent, but he had gone to a wrong place. . . . He had stayed on, however, vigorously, day after day,—till this very morning's post had conveyed the history of Jane Fairfax. Then, with the gladness which must be felt—nay, which he did
