Jane Austen Made Me Do It Read Free Page B

about the weather, the pair linked arms, turned, and made their way down the damp, grey pavement.
    My thoughts were in such a state of disarray that I hardly knew what to think or feel. I strode off in the opposite direction, crossing the road, when a carriage suddenly appeared out of the fog and nearly ran me down. It was some time before my heart returned to its natural pace. How long I walked on in this distracted manner along the nearly deserted streets I cannot say, but at length I passed the Abbey Church and found myself standing outside the Pump-room. A cacophony of voices issued from within, proof that not all the inhabitants of Bath had stayed at home.
    As I was cold and thirsty, I hurried inside the Pump-room, where a crowd milled about in spacious elegance, and musicians in the west apse performed a pleasant air. A cursory glance revealed that I had no acquaintance there. Appreciative of the heat emanating from two large fireplaces, I made my way to the fountain, where I paid the attendant for a glass of water and drank it down. As I turned, I nearly collided with a handsome young man smartly dressed in the uniform of a naval officer, exactly like that of my brothers Frank and Charles.
    â€œForgive me,” said he with a bow, before purchasing his own glass and moving on. The naval captain made a most arresting figure, and I wondered what lay behind the sad look in his eyes.My attention was soon diverted, however, by the sight of an attractive, fashionably dressed young woman who was intently studying all the passersby, as if seeking out some one in particular. She looked strangely familiar. All at once I knew why: it was Emma Woodhouse.
    Emma! In my view, one of the most delightful creatures I had ever conceived! Upon catching sight of me, Emma started with recognition, a look that quickly turned to worry as she glided to my side.
    â€œThere you are! I have been looking every where for you, Miss Austen. Have the others found you?”
    â€œThe others?”
    â€œWord has got out that you are in town. There are quite a few people who are—” (she hesitated) “—most
anxious
to speak with you.”
    Oh dear, I thought, my heart sinking. This could prove to be a most exhausting day. “Thank you. I will keep an eye out for the others, whoever they may be. But how is it that
you
are here, Emma? My book about you is only just completed. It has yet to be sold or published.”
    She shrugged. “I suppose since it is written, I therefore exist?”
    â€œI see.” I smiled hopefully, praying that, unlike my previous encounters,
she
might have some kind words for me. My hopes on that score, however, were soon dashed.
    â€œI admit, Miss Austen, that I too have been hoping to have a word with you. You know it is not in my nature to criticise. And far be it from me to give
advice
—Mr. Knightley is for ever counseling me on that subject, and he is never wrong—but I believe it my duty as a friend to share certain thoughts which I feel might prove to be of benefit to you.”
    â€œDo go on.”
    â€œYou must be the judge of what is best to write, of course—I would not
dream
of interfering—but I cannot help but think that you presented me in a very disagreeable light in your novel.”
    â€œDisagreeable?” I sighed, knowing full well what was coming. “How so?”
    â€œIt started out so well. You called me handsome, clever, and rich, and you gave me a happy disposition. You placed me in a comfortable home, I was original in my thinking, and admired by all who knew me. But then you went off in such an unacceptable direction! You made me oblivious to every real thing going on around me. I spent the entire novel completely blind to the truth of my affections, while trying in vain to elevate Harriet’s status and procure her a husband. I was dense, obtuse, manipulative—yet all the while firm in my belief that I knew what was best for