Introducing Jane Austen Stories: Emma

Neuser Podcast Network. It's called Jane Austen Stories, read by Dame Julie Andrews.

“Enter a world of humour, heartbreak, scandal and romance, all set in the rural landscapes of”

19th century England. If you enjoy this taste-to-episode, search for Jane Austen stories on your podcast app, and hit follow for more episodes, or head to www.neuser.com. Welcome to Jane Austen Stories. I'm Julie Andrews and from the Neuser Podcast Network, this is Emma.

Austen's fourth novel, first published in 1815, just after she turned 40,

it's widely considered one of her best works. Singularly witty and self-aware, beneath its paneer of a gentile love story lies a biting social commentary where ahead of its time packed with

“intrigue, humour, and irony. Join me as we step into the village of hybrid, home to the wealthy,”

clever, and handsome Emma Woodhouse, and her aging, fretful father. With her dear friend and governess, Miss Taylor, having just married, in a match Emma credits herself, with having arranged,

she now turns to others in her circle with whom to play Cupid. But when the arrival of new friends

and long awaited visitors coincides with a mystery to solve, will Emma's slew thing also lead her to revelations about herself? Will she ever heed her dashing friend, Mr. Knightley, and his warnings about her meddling, and will anything or anyone dislodge our heroine's determination,

“not to marry? Now, if you're setting comfortably, then I'll begin. From the Neuser Podcast Network,”

this is Emma Part One.

Chapter One. Emma Woodhouse, handsome clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy

disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence, and had lived nearly 21 years in the world, with very little to distress or becks her. She was the youngest of the two daughters of a most affectionate 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 an excellent woman as governess, who had fallen little short of a mother in affection. 16 years had missed Taylor, been in Mr. Woodhouse's family, less as a governess than a friend, very fond of both daughters, but particularly of Emma. Between them, it was more the intimacy of sisters. Even before Miss Taylor had ceased to hold the nominal office of governess, the mildness of her temper had hardly allowed her to impose any restraint, and the shadow

of authority being now long passed away, they had been living together as friend and friend, very mutually attached, and Emma doing just what she liked. Highly as steaming Miss Taylor's judgment, but directed chiefly 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. These were the disadvantages which threatened alloy to her many enjoyment.

The danger, however, was at present so unperceived that they did not by any means of rank as misfortunes with her.

Miss Taylor married. It was Miss Taylor's loss, which first brought grief.

“It was on the wedding day of this beloved friend that Emma first sat in mournful thought of any”

continuance. The wedding over and the bride people gone, her father and herself were left to dine together with no prospect of a third to cheer a long evening. Her father composed himself to sleep after dinner as usual, and she had then only sit and think of what she had lost. The event had every promise of happiness for her friend. Mr. Western was a man of unacceptable 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 Emma.”

The want of Miss Taylor would be felt every hour of every day. She recalled her past kindness, the kindness, the affection of 16 years, how she had taught, and how she had played with her from five years old. How she had devoted all her powers to attach and amuse her in-health, and how she had nursed her through the various illnesses of childhood. A large debt of gratitude was

owing here, but the intercourse of the last seven years, the equal footing and perfect

“unreserved, which had soon followed her sister Isabella's marriage, on their being left to each other,”

was yet a dearer, tenderer recollection. Miss Taylor 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 Emma. In every pleasure, every scheme of hers, one to whom she could speak every thought, as it arose, and who had

such an affection for her as could never find fault. How was she to bear the change? It was

true that her friend was going only half a mile from them, but Emma was aware that great must be the difference between a Mrs. Western only half a mile from them, and a Miss Taylor in the house, and with all her advantages natural and domestic, Emma was now in great danger of suffering from intellectual solitude. She dearly loved her father, but he was no companion for her, he couldn't meet her in conversation, rational or playful. The evil of the actual disparity in their ages,

and Mr. Woodhouse had not married early, was much increased by his constitution and habits. For having been a valitude in area and all his life, without activity of mind or body, he was a much older man in ways than in years, and though everywhere beloved for the friendliness of his heart and his amiable temper, his talents could not have recommended him at any time. Emma's sister, though comparatively but little removed by matrimony,

being settled in London only 16 miles off, was much beyond her daily reach, and many a long October and November evening must be struggled through at heart field before Christmas brought the next visit from Isabella and her husband and their little children to fill the house and give her pleasant society again. Hybrid, large and populous village, almost mounting to a town, to which heart-filled, in spite of its separate lawn and shrubberies and name, did really belong,

afforded her no equals. The woodhouses were first in consequence there, all looked up to them.

who could be accepted in lieu of Miss Taylor for even half a day. It was a melancholy change,

“and Emma could not but sigh over it and wish for impossible things to her father or woke”

and made it necessary to be cheerful. His spirits required support. He was a nervous man, easily depressed, fond of everybody that he was used to and

hating to part with him, hating change of every kind, matrimony as the origin of change was always

disagreeable, and he was by no means yet reconciled to his own daughter Isabella's marrying, nor could ever speak of her but with compassion. Though it had been entirely a match of affection when he was now obliged to part with Miss Taylor also, and from his habits of gentle selfishness and of being never able to suppose that other people could feel differently from himself,

“he was very much disposed to think Miss Taylor had done as sad thing for herself as for them.”

And would have been a great deal happier if she had spent all the rest of her life at heart field. Emma smiled and chatted as cheerfully as she could to keep him from such thoughts, but when tea came it was impossible for him not to say exactly as he had said at dinner. Poor Miss Taylor, I wish you were here again, what a pity it is that Mr. Weston ever thought of her. I cannot agree with you, Papa. You know I cannot. Mr. Weston is such a good, humid, pleasant,

excellent man that he thoroughly deserves a good wife, and you would not have had Miss Taylor live with us forever, and bear all my odd humors when she might have a house of her own,

“a house of her own, but where is the advantage of a house of her own replied her father?”

This is three times as large and you have never any odd humors, my dear.

How often we shall be going to see them and they come in to see us, Papa. We shall be always meeting, we must begin, we must go and pay our wedding visit very soon. My dear, how might it get so far? Randall's is such a distance, I couldn't walk half so far. No, Papa, nobody thought of your walking, we must go in the carriage to be sure. The carriage, but James will not like to put the horses to for such a little way,

had where are the poor horses to be, while we are paying our visit. They are to be put into Mr. Weston's stable, Papa. You know we have settled all that already, we talked it all over with

Mr. Weston last night, and as for James, you may be very sure he will always like going to Randall's

because of his daughters being house-made there. I only doubt whether he will ever take us anywhere else. That was your doing, Papa. You got Hanna that good place. Nobody thought of Hanna to you mentioned her. James is so obliged to you. I am very glad I did think of her, replied her father. It was very lucky, for I would not have had poor James think himself slighted upon any account, and I'm sure she will make a very good servant. She is a simple, pretty spoken girl. I have

a great opinion of her. Whenever I see her, she always curts his and asks me how I do in a very pretty manner, and when you have had her here to do needlework, I observe she always turns the latch of the door the right way and never bangs it. I'm sure she will be an excellent servant, and it will be a great comfort to poor Mr. Taylor. They have somebody about her that she's used to see. Whenever James goes over to see his daughter, you know, she will be hearing of us. He will be

able to tell her how we all are. Emma spared no exertions to maintain this happy afloat of ideas and hoped by the help of Beckhamon to get her father tolerably through the evening and be attacked

in and made it unnecessary. I'm Julie Andrews and it is my great pleasure to return to Jane Austen

stories. This time I'll be reading another beloved classic Emma. Join me as we step into the village of Hibri, home to the handsome and clever Emma Woodhouse, but as new visitors arrive and quiet mysteries unfold what will our strong willed heroine learn, both of the secrets of others and of her own hearts desires. Listen to Jane Austen stories now wherever you get your podcasts. Mr. Knightley, a sensible man about 7 or 8 and 30, was not only a very old and intimate friend of

the family, but particularly connected with it as the elder brother of Isabella's husband.

He lived about a mile from Hibri was a frequent visitor and always welcome and at this time

more welcome than usual as coming directly from their mutual connections in London. He had returned to a late dinner after some days absence and now walked up to Hartfield to say that all were well in Brunswick Square. It was a happy circumstance and animated Mr. Woodhouse for some time. Mr. Knightley had a cheerful manner which always did him good and his many inquiries after poor Isabella and her children were answered most satisfactorily.

When this was over Mr. Woodhouse, gratefully observed, it is very kind of you, Mr. Knightley,

“to come out at this late hour to call upon us. I'm afraid you must have had a shocking walk.”

And not at all, sir. It is a beautiful moonlit night and so mild that I must draw back from your great fire, but you must have found it very damp and dirty, replied Mr. Woodhouse. I wish you may not catch cold. Dirty, sir. Look at my shoes. Not a spec on them. Well, that is quite surprising for we have had a vast deal of rain here. It rained dreadfully hard for half an hour while we were at breakfast. I wanted them to put

off the wedding. By the way, I have not wished you joy, said Mr. Knightley.

“Being pretty well aware of what sort of joy you must boast be feeling. I have been in no hurry”

with my congratulations, but I hope it all went off tolerably well. How did you all behave? Who cried most for Mr. Taylor to the sad business replied Mr. Woodhouse for Mr. and Miss Woodhouse, if you please, but I cannot possibly say for Mr. Taylor replied Mr. Knightley. I have a great regard for you and Emma, but when it comes to the question of dependence or independence, at any rate, it must be better to have only one to please than two, especially when one of those

two is such a fanciful troublesome creatures. They're them are playfully that is what you have in your

“head. I know and what you would certainly say if my father were not by. I believe it is very”

true. My dear indeed, said Mr. Woodhouse for the sigh, "I'm afraid I'm sometimes very fanciful and troublesome." "Oh, my dearest, Papa, you do not think I could mean you or suppose Mr. Knightley to mean you. What a horrible idea! Oh no, I meant only myself. Mr. Knightley loves

to find fault with me, you know. In a joke, it is all a joke. We always say what we like to

and another." Mr. Knightley, in fact, was one of the few people who could see faults in Emma Woodhouse and the only one who ever told her of them, and though this was not particularly agreeable to Emma herself, she knew it would be so much less so to her father that she would not have him really

flatter her, said Mr. Knightley, but I meant no reflection on anybody. Miss Taylor has been used

“to have two persons to please. She will now have but one. The chances are that she must be againer.”

Well, said Emma, willing to let it pass, you want to hear about the wedding and I shall be happy to tell you. For we all behaved charmingly, everybody was punctual, everybody in their best looks, not a tier and hardly a long face to be seen. Oh no, we all felt that we were going to be only half a mile apart and were sure of meeting every day. Dear Emma bears everything so well, said her father, but Mr. Knightley, she is really very sorry to lose poor Miss Taylor,

and I'm sure she will miss her more than she thinks. Emma turned away her head, divided between tears and smiles. It is impossible that Emma should not miss such a companion, said Mr. Knightley, we should not like her so well as we do so if we could suppose it. But she knows how much the marriage is to Miss Taylor's advantage. She knows how very acceptable it must be at Miss Taylor's

“time of life to be settled in a home of her own and how important her to be secure of a comfortable”

provision and therefore cannot allow herself to feel so much pain as pleasure. Every friend of Miss Taylor must be glad to have her so happily married. And you have forgotten one matter of joy to me, said Emma, and a very considerable one that I made the match myself. I made the match, you know, four years ago, and to have it take place and be proved in the right when so many people

said Mr. Western would never marry again, may comfort me for anything. Mr. Knightley shook his head

that her a father fondly replied, "Ah my dear, I wish he would not make matches and for tell things.

“For whatever you say always comes to pass, pray do not make any more matches. I promise you”

to make none for myself, but I must indeed for other people. It is the greatest amusement in the world, and after such success, you know, everybody said that Mr. Western would never marry again, who do you know, Mr. Western who had been a widow her so long and who seemed so perfectly comfortable without a wife, so constantly occupied, either in business in town or among his friends here,

always acceptable wherever he went, always cheerful. Mr. Western need not spend a single evening in

the year alone, if he did not like it. Oh no, Mr. Western certainly would never marry again. Some people even talked of a promise to his wife on her deathbed, and others of the sun and the uncle not letting him. All manner of solemn nonsense was talked on the subject, but I believed none of it. Ever since the day, about four years ago, that Miss Taylor and I met with him in Broadway Lane, when because it began to drizzle, he darted away with so much gallantry and gathered

two umbrellas for us from farmer Mitchell's. I made up my mind on the subject. I planned the match from that hour, and when such success has blessed me in this instance, dear papar, you cannot think that I shall leave off matchmaking. I do not understand what you mean by success, said, Mr. Knightley. Success supposes Endeavour. Your time has been properly and delicately spent, if you have been endeavouring for the last four years to bring about this marriage,

a worthy employment for a young lady's mind. But if, which I rather imagine, you're making the match, as you call it, means only your planning it. You're saying to yourself one idle day,

and saying it again to yourself every now and then afterwards, why do you talk of success?

“Where is your merit? What are you proud of? You made a lucky guess, and that is all that can be said.”

And have you never known the pleasure and triumph of a lucky guess, replied Emma? I pity you.

I thought you cleverer for the pendant, a lucky guess, is never merely luck. There is always some talent in it, and as to my poor word success, which you quarrel with, I do not know that I am so entirely without any claim to it. You have drawn two pretty pictures, but I think there may be a third, as something between the do nothing and the do all. If I had not promoted Mr. Western's visits here and given many little encouragements and

“smoothed many little matters, it might not have come to anything after all. I think you must”

know heartfelt enough to comprehend that. A straightforward, open-hearted man, like Western, and a rational unaffected woman, like Mr. Taylor, may be safely left to manage their own concerns replied Mr. Knightley. You are more likely to have done harm to yourself than good to them by interference.

Emma never thinks of herself if she can do good to others, rejoined Mr. Woodhouse,

understanding only in part, but my dear prey do not make any more matches, they are silly things, and breakup one's family circle grievously. Only one more papar, only for Mr. Elton, or poor Mr. Elton, you like Mr. Elton papar. I must look about for a wife for him. There is nobody in hybrid who deserves him, and he has been here a whole year and has fitted up his house so comfortably that it would be a shame to have him single any longer, and I thought when he was

joining their hands today, he looked so very much as if he would like to have the same kind

“office done for him. I think very well of Mr. Elton, and this is the only way I have of doing”

him a service. Mr. Elton is a very pleasing young man to be sure and a very good young man, and I have a great regard for him, replied her father, but if you want to show him any attention idea, ask him to come and die with us some day, that will be a much better thing. I dare say Mr. Knightley will be so kind as to meet him with a great deal of pleasure sir at any time, said Mr. Knightley, laughing, and I agree with you entirely that it will be a much better thing

invite him to dinner, Emma, and help him to the best of the fish and the chicken, but leave him to choose his own wife. Depend on it, a man of six or seven and twenty can take care of himself. I'm Julie Andrews, and it is my great pleasure to return to Jane Austen stories. This time I'll be reading another beloved classic Emma. Join me as we step into the village of hybrid home to the handsome and clever Emma Woodhouse, but as new visitors arrive and quiet mysteries unfold,

what will our strong willed hero in learn, both of the secrets of others and of her own hearts desires. Listen to Jane Austen stories now, wherever you get your podcasts. Chapter 2 Mr. Western was a native of hybrid and born of a respectable family, which for the last two or three generations had been rising into gentility and property. He had received a good education, but on succeeding early in life to a small independence,

had become indisposed for any of the more homely pursuits in which his brothers were engaged and had satisfied an active, cheerful mind and social temper by entering into the militia of his

him to a mischirtial of a great Yorkshire family and mischirtial fell in love with him,

“nobody was surprised except her brother and his wife who had never seen him and who were full of”

pride and importance which the connection would offend. Miss Churchill, however, being of age, and with the full command of her fortune, though her fortune wore no proportion to the family estate, was not to be diswated from the marriage and it took place to the infinite mortification of Mr. and Mrs. Churchill who threw her off with due decorum. It was an unsuitable connection and did not produce much happiness. Mrs. Western ought to have found more in it,

for she had a husband whose warm heart and sweet temper made him think everything due to her

“in return for the great goodness of being in love with him, but though she had one sort of spirit,”

she had not the best. She had resolution enough to pursue her own will in spite of her brother, but not enough to refrain from unreasonable regrets at that brother's unreasonable anger nor from missing the luxuries of her former home. The Western's lived beyond their income, but still it was nothing in comparison of Enscome. She did not cease to love her husband, but she wanted it once to be the wife of Captain Western and Miss Churchill of Enscome.

Captain Western who had been considered, especially by the Churchill's as making such an amazing match,

“was proved to have much the worst of the bargain. For when his wife died, after three years”

marriage, he was rather a poor man than at first and with a child to maintain. From the expense of the child, however, he was soon relieved. The boy had, with the additional softening claim of a lingering illness of his mother, been the means of a sort of reconciliation, and Mr. and Mrs. Churchill, having no children of their own, nor any other young creature of equal canred to care for, often to take the whole charge of the little frank, soon after his mother's

deceased. Some scruples and some reluctance the widow of father may be supposed to have felt, but as they were overcome by other considerations, the child was given up to the care and the wealth of the Churchill's, and Mr. Western had only his own comfort to seek and his own situation to improve as he could. A complete change of life became desirable. He quited the militia and engaged in trade, having brothers already established in a good way in London,

which afforded him a favorable opening. It was a concern which brought just employment enough. He had still a small house in hybrid, where most of his leisure days were spent, and between useful occupation and the pleasures of society the next 18 or 20 years of his life passed cheerfully away. He had, by that time, realized an easy competence, enough to secure the purchase of a little

estate, a joining hybrid, which he had always longed for. Enough to marry a woman as portionless

even as Miss Taylor, and to live according to the wishes of his own friendly and social disposition. It was now some time since Miss Taylor had begun to influence his schemes, but as it was not the tyrannic influence of use on youth, it had not shaken his determination of never settling till he could purchase Randall's, and the sale of Randall's was long looked forward to,

He had made his fortune, bought his house, and obtained his new wife, and was beginning a

“new period of existence with every probability of greater happiness than in any yet past true.”

He had never been an unhappy man, his own temper had secured him from that even in his first marriage,

but his second must show him how delightful a well-judging and truly amiable woman could be, and must given the pleasantest proof of its being a great deal better to choose than to be chosen to excite gratitude than to feel it. He had only himself to please, in his choice, his fortune was his own, for as to his son Frank, it was more than being tacitly brought up as his uncle's heir. It had become so a vowed in adoption as to have him assumed the name of Churchill on coming

“of age. It was most unlikely, therefore, that he should ever want his father's assistance, his”

father had no apprehension of it. Frank's aunt was a capricious woman and governed her husband entirely, but it was not in Mr. Weston's nature to imagine that any caprice could be strong enough to affect one's so dear and as he believed so deservedly dear. He saw his son every year in London and was proud of him, and his fond report of him as a very fine young man had made hybrid feel a sort of pride in him too. He was looked on as sufficiently belonging to the place to make his

merits and prospects a kind of common concern. Mr. Frank Churchill was one of the boasts of

“hybrid and a lively curiosity to see him prevailed, though the compliment was so little returned”

that he had never been there in his life. His coming to visit his father had been often talked of,

but never achieved. Now upon his father's marriage, it was very generally proposed as a most proper attention that the visit should take place. There was not a dissentant voice on the subject. Either when Mrs. Perry drank tea with Mrs. and Ms. Bates or when Mrs. and Ms. Bates returned the visit. Now was the time for Mr. Frank Churchill to come among them and the hope strengthened when it was understood that he had written to his new mother on the occasion. For a few days every morning

visit in hybrid included some mention of the handsome letter Mrs. Western had received. I suppose you have heard of the handsome letter Mr. Frank Churchill has written to Mrs. Western. I understand it was a very handsome letter indeed. Mr. Woodhouse told me of it.

Mr. Woodhouse saw the letter and he says he never saw such a handsome letter in his life.

It was indeed a highly prized letter. Mrs. Western had, of course, formed a very favourable idea of the young man and such a pleasing attention was an irresistible proof of his great good sense and a most welcome addition to every source and every expression of congratulation which her marriage had already secured. She felt herself a most fortunate woman and she had lived long enough to know how fortunate she might well be thought, where the only regret was for

a partial separation from friends whose friendship for her had never cooled and could ill bear to part with her. She knew that at times she must be missed and could not think without pain of Emma's losing a single pleasure or suffering an hours on we from the want of her companionship. But dear Emma was of no feeble character, she was more equal to her situation than most girls would have been and had sense and energy and spirits that might be hoped would bear her well

and happily through its little difficulties and provisions. And then there was such comfort

and a Mr. Weston's disposition and circumstances which would make the approaching season

“no hindrance to their spending half the evenings in the week together.”

Her situation was all together the subject of hours of gratitude to Mrs. Weston and of moments only of regret and her satisfaction her more than satisfaction her cheerful enjoyment was so just and so apparent that Emma well as she knew her father

was sometimes taken by surprise at his being still able to pity poor Mr. Taylor when they left her

at randals in the center of every domestic comfort or saw her go away in the evening attended

“by her pleasant husband to a carriage of her own. But never did she go without Mr. Woodhouse”

is giving a gentle sigh and saying "I'm a poor Mr. Taylor, she would be very glad to stay." There was no recovering Mr. Taylor, nor much like they heard of his ceasing to pity her but a few weeks brought some alleviation to Mr. Woodhouse. The compliments of his neighbors were over, he was no longer teased by being wished joy of so sorrowful and event and the wedding cake which had been a great distress to him was all eaten up. His own stomach could bear nothing

“rich and he could never believe other people to be different from himself.”

What was unwholesome to him he regarded as unfit for anybody and he had therefore earnestly tried to dissuade them from having any wedding cake at all and when that proved vain as earnestly tried to prevent anybody's eating it. He had been at the pains of consulting Mr. Perry the apothecary on the subject. Mr. Perry was an intelligent gentleman like man who's frequent visits were one of the comforts of Mr. Woodhouse's life and upon being applied to he could not

but acknowledge though it seemed rather against bias of inclination that wedding cake might certainly disagree with many perhaps with most people unless taken moderately. With such an opinion in confirmation of his own Mr. Woodhouse hoped to influence every visitor of the new married pair but still the cake was eaten and there was no rest for his benevolent nerves till it was all gone. There was a strange rumor in hybrids of all the little Paris being seen with a slice of Mrs.

Weston's wedding cake in their hands but Mr. Woodhouse would never believe it.

In the next episode while Emma continues to sues her father's anxieties she is introduced to the suite on assuming Miss Harriet Smith despite the 17-year-old's modest social standing and mysterious background Emma is determined to improve her and perhaps indulge in a little match making along the way but have Harriet's affections already been secured by another that's next time on Jane Austen's stories Emma.

[BLANK_AUDIO]