“Emma,” one of the author’s later novels, had been finished, when, in the autumn of 1815, Jane Austen came to London to nurse her brother Henry, who was a clergyman, at his house in Hans Place, in Chelsea.  He was being attended by one of the Prince Regent’s physicians, who seems to have learned in this way the secret of the authorship of “Mansfield Park” and its predecessors.  The result was that the Prince, who is said to have been a great admirer of these then anonymous novels, was graciously pleased to notify Miss Austen, through his chaplain, Mr. Clarke, that if she had any new novel in hand, she was at liberty to dedicate it to his Royal Highness.  “Emma” was accordingly dedicated to the Prince.  It was reviewed, along with its author’s other novels, in the “Quarterly,” and the anonymous reviewer, who took no notice of “Mansfield Park,” turns out to have been none other than Sir Walter Scott.  In his Diary for March 14, 1826, Sir Walter further praised Miss Austen’s exquisite touch and her gift for true description and sentiment.

I.—­The Social Amenities of Highbury

Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, was the younger of the two daughters of a most affectionate and indulgent father, and had, in consequence of her sister’s marriage, been mistress of his house from a very early period.  Her mother had died too long ago for her to have more than an indistinct remembrance of her caresses, and her place had been supplied by Miss Taylor, who for sixteen years had been in Mr. Woodhouse’s family, less as governess than friend, very fond of both daughters, but particularly of Emma.  For years the two ladies had been living together, mutely attached, Emma doing just what she liked, highly esteeming Miss Taylor’s judgment, but chiefly directed by her own.

The real evils, indeed, of Emma’s situation were the power of having rather too much her own way, and a disposition to think a little too well of herself.  The danger, however, was at present unperceived, and did not by any means rank as a misfortune with her.

Sorrow came—­a gentle sorrow.  Miss Taylor married.  It was Miss Taylor’s loss which first brought grief.  It was on the wedding-day of this beloved friend, with the wedding over and the bride-people gone, that Emma first sat in mournful thought of any continuance.  The event had every promise of happiness for her friend.  Mr. Weston was a man of unexceptionable character, easy fortune, suitable age, and pleasant manners; and there was some satisfaction in considering with what self-denying, generous friendship she had always wished and promoted the match.  But it was a black morning’s work for her.  The want of Miss Taylor would be felt every hour of every day.  She had been a friend and companion such as few possessed:  intelligent, well-informed, useful, gentle; knowing all the ways of the family, interested in all its concerns, and peculiarly interested in herself, in every pleasure, every scheme of hers—­one to whom she could speak every thought, and who had such an affection for her as could never find fault.