Read Online Emma and the Werewolves by Adam Rann - Free Book Online

would finish it, to have it apologised over as an
unfavourable likeness, to every morning visitor in Brunswick
Square; and, as I said, I did then forswear ever drawing any body
again. But for Harriet’s sake, or rather for my own, and as there
are no husbands and wives in the case at present, I will break my
resolution now.”
    Mr. Elton seemed very properly struck and
delighted by the idea, and was repeating, “No husbands and wives in
the case at present indeed, as you observe. Exactly so. No husbands
and wives,” with so interesting a consciousness, that Emma began to
consider whether she had not better leave them together at once.
But as she wanted to be drawing, the declaration must wait a little
longer.
    She had soon fixed on the size and sort of
portrait. It was to be a whole-length in water-colours, like Mr.
John Knightley’s, and was destined, if she could please herself, to
hold a very honourable station over the mantelpiece.
    The sitting began; and Harriet, smiling and
blushing, and afraid of not keeping her attitude and countenance,
presented a very sweet mixture of youthful expression to the steady
eyes of the artist. But there was no doing any thing, with Mr.
Elton fidgeting behind her and watching every touch. She gave him
credit for stationing himself where he might gaze and gaze again
without offence; but was really obliged to put an end to it, and
request him to place himself elsewhere. It then occurred to her to
employ him in reading.
    “ If he would be so good as
to read to them, it would be a kindness indeed! It would amuse away
the difficulties of her part, and lessen the irksomeness of Miss
Smith’s.”
    Mr. Elton was only too happy. Harriet
listened, and Emma drew in peace. She must allow him to be still
frequently coming to look; any thing less would certainly have been
too little in a lover; and he was ready at the smallest
intermission of the pencil, to jump up and see the progress, and be
charmed. There was no being displeased with such an encourager, for
his admiration made him discern a likeness almost before it was
possible. She could not respect his eye, but his love and his
complaisance were unexceptionable.
    The sitting was altogether very
satisfactory; she was quite enough pleased with the first day’s
sketch to wish to go on. There was no want of likeness, she had
been fortunate in the attitude, and as she meant to throw in a
little improvement to the figure, to give a little more height, and
considerably more elegance, she had great confidence of its being
in every way a pretty drawing at last, and of its filling its
destined place with credit to them both—a standing memorial of the
beauty of one, the skill of the other, and the friendship of both;
with as many other agreeable associations as Mr. Elton’s very
promising attachment was likely to add.
    Harriet was to sit again the next day; and
Mr. Elton, just as he ought, entreated for the permission of
attending and reading to them again.
    “ By all means. We shall be
most happy to consider you as one of the party.”
    The same civilities and courtesies, the same
success and satisfaction, took place on the morrow, and accompanied
the whole progress of the picture, which was rapid and happy. Every
body who saw it was pleased, but Mr. Elton was in continual
raptures, and defended it through every criticism.
    “ Miss Woodhouse has given
her friend the only beauty she wanted,” observed Mrs. Weston to
him—not in the least suspecting that she was addressing a lover.
“The expression of the eye is most correct, but Miss Smith has not
those eyebrows and eyelashes. It is the fault of her face that she
has them not.”
    “ Do you think so?” replied
he. “I cannot agree with you. It appears to me a most perfect
resemblance in every feature. I never saw such a likeness in my
life. We must allow for the effect of shade, you know.”
    “ You have made her too
tall, Emma,” said Mr. Knightley.
    Emma knew that she had, but would not