form any just judgement. Short of that, it is all guess and luck—and will generally be ill-luck. How many a man has commited himself on a short acquaintance, and rued it all the rest of his life!”
Miss Fairfax, who had seldom spoken before, except among her own confederates, spoke now.
“Such things do occur, undoubtedly.”—She was stopped by a cough. Frank Churchill turned towards her to listen.
“You were speaking,” said he, gravely. She recovering her voice.
“I was only going to observe, that though such unfortunate circumstances do sometimes occur both to men and women, I cannot imagine them to be very frequent. A hasty and imprudent attachment may arise—but there is generally time to recover from it afterwards. I would be understood to mean, that it can be only weak, irresolute characters, (whose happiness must be always at the mercy of chance,) who will suffer an unfortunate acquaintance to be an inconvenience, an oppression for ever.”
He made no answer; merely looked, and bowed in submission; and soon afterwards said, in a lively tone,
“Well, I have so little confidence in my own judgement, that whenever I marry, I hope somebody will choose my wife for me. Will you? (turning to Emma.) Find somebody for me. I am in no hurry. Adopt her, educate her.”
“And make her like myself.”
“By all means, if you can.”
“Very well. I undertake the commission. You shall have a charming wife.”
“She must be very lively, and have hazle eyes. I care for nothing else. I shall go abroad for a couple of years—and when I return, I shall come to you for my wife. Remember.”