He would soon be among them again; Mr.
Elton and his bride.

There was hardly time to talk over the first letter from Enscombe before "Mr.Elton and his bride" was in every body's mouth, and Frank Churchill was forgotten.

Emma grew sick at the sound.
She had had three weeks of happy exemption from Mr.Elton; and Harriet's mind, she had been willing to hope, had been lately gaining strength.
With Mr.Weston's ball in view at least, there had been a great deal of insensibility to other things; but it was now too evident that she had not attained such a state of composure as could stand against the actual approach--new carriage, bell-ringing, and all.
Poor Harriet was in a flutter of spirits which required all the reasonings and soothings and attentions of every kind that Emma could give.

Emma felt that she could not do too much for her, that Harriet had a right to all her ingenuity and all her patience; but it was heavy work to be for ever convincing without producing any effect, for ever agreed to, without being able to make their opinions the same.

Harriet listened submissively, and said "it was very true--it was just as Miss Woodhouse described--it was not worth while to think about them--and she would not think about them any longer" but no change of subject could avail, and the next half-hour saw her as anxious and restless about the Eltons as before.