She would have been too happy but for poor Harriet; but every blessing of her own seemed to involve and advance the sufferings of her friend, who must now be even excluded from Hartfield.  The delightful family party which Emma was securing for herself, poor Harriet must, in mere charitable caution, be kept at a distance from.  She would be a loser in every way.  Emma could not deplore her future absence as any deduction from her own enjoyment.  In such a party, Harriet would be rather a dead weight than otherwise; but for the poor girl herself, it seemed a peculiarly cruel necessity that was to be placing her in such a state of unmerited punishment.

In time, of course, Mr. Knightley would be forgotten, that is, supplanted; but this could not be expected to happen very early.  Mr. Knightley himself would be doing nothing to assist the cure;—­ not like Mr. Elton.  Mr. Knightley, always so kind, so feeling, so truly considerate for every body, would never deserve to be less worshipped than now; and it really was too much to hope even of Harriet, that she could be in love with more than three men in one year.

CHAPTER XVI

It was a very great relief to Emma to find Harriet as desirous as herself to avoid a meeting.  Their intercourse was painful enough by letter.  How much worse, had they been obliged to meet!

Harriet expressed herself very much as might be supposed, without reproaches, or apparent sense of ill-usage; and yet Emma fancied there was a something of resentment, a something bordering on it in her style, which increased the desirableness of their being separate.—­ It might be only her own consciousness; but it seemed as if an angel only could have been quite without resentment under such a stroke.

She had no difficulty in procuring Isabella’s invitation; and she was fortunate in having a sufficient reason for asking it, without resorting to invention.—­There was a tooth amiss.  Harriet really wished, and had wished some time, to consult a dentist.  Mrs. John Knightley was delighted to be of use; any thing of ill health was a recommendation to her—­and though not so fond of a dentist as of a Mr. Wingfield, she was quite eager to have Harriet under her care.—­When it was thus settled on her sister’s side, Emma proposed it to her friend, and found her very persuadable.—­ Harriet was to go; she was invited for at least a fortnight; she was to be conveyed in Mr. Woodhouse’s carriage.—­It was all arranged, it was all completed, and Harriet was safe in Brunswick Square.

Now Emma could, indeed, enjoy Mr. Knightley’s visits; now she could talk, and she could listen with true happiness, unchecked by that sense of injustice, of guilt, of something most painful, which had haunted her when remembering how disappointed a heart was near her, how much might at that moment, and at a little distance, be enduring by the feelings which she had led astray herself.