Emma was almost too much astonished to answer; but Mrs. Elton hardly waited for the affirmative before she went on.

“Having understood as much, I was rather astonished to find her so very lady-like!  But she is really quite the gentlewoman.”

“Mrs. Weston’s manners,” said Emma, “were always particularly good.  Their propriety, simplicity, and elegance, would make them the safest model for any young woman.”

“And who do you think came in while we were there?”

Emma was quite at a loss.  The tone implied some old acquaintance—­ and how could she possibly guess?

“Knightley!” continued Mrs. Elton; “Knightley himself!—­Was not it lucky?—­for, not being within when he called the other day, I had never seen him before; and of course, as so particular a friend of Mr. E.’s, I had a great curiosity. `My friend Knightley’ had been so often mentioned, that I was really impatient to see him; and I must do my caro sposo the justice to say that he need not be ashamed of his friend.  Knightley is quite the gentleman.  I like him very much.  Decidedly, I think, a very gentleman-like man.”

Happily, it was now time to be gone.  They were off; and Emma could breathe.

“Insufferable woman!” was her immediate exclamation.  “Worse than I had supposed.  Absolutely insufferable!  Knightley!—­I could not have believed it.  Knightley!—­never seen him in her life before, and call him Knightley!—­and discover that he is a gentleman!  A little upstart, vulgar being, with her Mr. E., and her caro sposo, and her resources, and all her airs of pert pretension and underbred finery.  Actually to discover that Mr. Knightley is a gentleman!  I doubt whether he will return the compliment, and discover her to be a lady.  I could not have believed it!  And to propose that she and I should unite to form a musical club!  One would fancy we were bosom friends!  And Mrs. Weston!—­ Astonished that the person who had brought me up should be a gentlewoman!  Worse and worse.  I never met with her equal.  Much beyond my hopes.  Harriet is disgraced by any comparison.  Oh! what would Frank Churchill say to her, if he were here?  How angry and how diverted he would be!  Ah! there I am—­ thinking of him directly.  Always the first person to be thought of!  How I catch myself out!  Frank Churchill comes as regularly into my mind!”—­

All this ran so glibly through her thoughts, that by the time her father had arranged himself, after the bustle of the Eltons’ departure, and was ready to speak, she was very tolerably capable of attending.