Prompt: Write a scene that one of our texts implies but does not explicitly present. Your scene should comprise at least 150 lines of poetry or 1000 words (the minimum is whichever is less). You may either a) write the scene in the style of the original or b) forge your own style (e.g., a novelistic depiction supplementing a work that is in verse or a stand-alone poem).

The ride to London was a rather unpleasant journey. In his haste, Mr. Knightley neglected the carriage, and a horse ride of such a length places a considerable burden on one’s body. Yet it was not his body that so greatly troubled Mr. Knightley, but rather his mind — he simply could not manage to divert his thoughts from Miss Woodhouse! She had been the object of his admiration for so many years, though he was certain that she could never return the same affection. Indeed, Miss Woodhouse was once again the sole subject of his thoughts, just as she had been for so many nights before. He simply could not forget their parting moments together prior to his going away for London — how he took her hand, how he brought it so near to his lips, how he was suddenly overcome with some indescribable feeling and could not help but let her hand go. Why he changed his mind when it was all but done he simply could not explain, but upon reflection, he was very much filled with regret; he would kiss her hand one hundred times if he could not judge better! His farewell to Miss Woodhouse ran through his mind unceasingly, each recollection just as painful as the last, and yet he could not manage to keep from turning their parting over in his mind. 

Mr. Knightley resolved himself to move his mind to happier subjects and turned his attention to the coming days he would spend with his brother. It certainly had been some time since he saw the other Mr. Knightley, and he was hopeful that their time together would prove to be the diversion his mind needed from the subject of Miss Woodhouse; one’s brother is quite often a suitable distraction from one’s thoughts. In any case, it would certainly do him some good to be in the city for a few days; the placidity of the countryside could become quite stale, and while Miss Woodhouse could very well serve as a distraction, there were weeks where Mr. Knighley would more frequently find himself enjoying the pleasure of the company of Mr. and Miss Woodhouse at Hartfield than attending to matters concerning his own estate. His sole hesitation of his going to London came with regards to his brother’s wife, Mrs. Isabella Knightley. It could not be denied that she bore a striking resemblance to her sister — the very woman who inspired Mr. Knightley’s retreat to London. How could he possibly see the other Mr. Knightley and his wife so very happy together and not be reminded of his own affection for Miss Woodhouse? 

He certainly took no pleasure in reprimanding Miss Woodhouse — quite the opposite, to be sure — but he did feel that the burden of such an admonishment ought to fall upon his shoulders, a burden that he hoped Miss Woodhouse could perhaps acknowledge. Indeed, though he knew Miss Woodhouse from her birth, he spoke to her as a dear friend, offering to her his faithful counsel and encouragement, even in the midst of her lapses in judgement. He never made up his mind to criticize Miss Woodhouse — how could he? — rather, he simply wished to remind the young Miss Woodhouse of the responsibilities of a civilised young lady — a list of which certainly did not include the comments she made towards poor Miss Bates. Was it not his duty as a gentleman to do so? He certainly hoped Miss Woodhouse could understand as much; it was no mystery that she did not very much care for his reprimands, no matter how frequently he assured her that he meant no ill will and only sought to offer a few words of counsel. Whether Miss Woodhouse would heed his advice would remain unclear, though he suspected that she would reproach herself with regards to her cruel words to Miss Bates; Miss Woodhouse was certainly aware of her status, particularly in relation to those others who dwelled in Highbury, and he trusted that she would quickly recall her station and soon find herself at Miss Bates’ estate to ask her forgiveness. 

As he neared London, Mr. Knightley came to the realization that his resolution to avoid thoughts of Miss Woodhouse had been rather unsuccessful; so frequently did he find his thoughts returning to this very same subject. As much as he did hold a great deal of admiration for her, a union between the two simply could not be. No, he would simply have to be content to remain in her friendship; this would be the practical course of action, yet a part of him could not help but mourn the loss of what could be. Alas, Miss Woodhouse would continue to elude his affections, just as she had done for so many years; this was the truth of the matter. Disheartening as it may have been, there was nothing that could be done. At that thought, Mr. Knightley dug his feet into the stirrups and continued his journey to London in haste.