Emma was feeling pretty full of herself these days. Her beloved governess, Miss Taylor, had just gotten hitched to Mr. Weston, and Emma was taking all the credit for playing cupid. With Miss Taylor out of the house, Emma suddenly found herself with a ton of free time on her hands.Enter Harriet Smith, a sweet little thing who'd just turned seventeen. This girl was as green as they come, totally clueless about the ways of the world. She was staying at Mrs. Goddard's school, and nobody really knew where she came from. But Emma, being Emma, got it into her head that Harriet must have some kind of secret noble background.Emma had big dreams for Harriet. She was dead set on finding her the perfect husband, like she was running some kind of high-class dating service. So when Robert Martin, a decent young farmer, asked Harriet to marry him, Emma nearly blew a gasket. In her mind, Harriet was meant for bigger things than mucking out stables and gathering eggs. She got into Harriet's ear and convinced her to turn Robert down flat.But Emma wasn't about to call it quits. She'd set her sights on Mr. Elton, the local vicar, as Harriet's Prince Charming. Emma started cooking up schemes like she was writing the script for a romantic comedy. She kept finding ways to throw Harriet and Mr. Elton together, hoping sparks would fly. She even set up this whole portrait-painting thing, where Mr. Elton was falling all over himself praising Emma's artwork of Harriet.Just when Emma was giving herself a big pat on the back, in walks Mr. George Knightley. Now, he's Emma's brother-in-law and oldest friend, and he's got this annoying habit of being the voice of reason.Before you knew it, Mr. Knightley and Emma were going at it hammer and tongs. He was trying to warn her about sticking her nose where it didn't belong, telling her she was playing with fire. But Emma, stubborn as a mule with its hooves dug in, wasn't having any of it.As they argued back and forth, you could practically see the sparks flying. Emma's face was getting redder by the minute, and Mr. Knightley's forehead had more wrinkles than a Shar Pei puppy.For a split second, Emma felt a tiny seed of doubt start to sprout in her mind. What if Mr. Knightley was onto something? What if she was making a big mess of things?As the day started winding down and the sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, Emma and Mr. Knightley's argument fizzled out into an uneasy truce.Emma stood by the window, watching Mr. Knightley's figure get smaller and smaller as he walked down the lane. She couldn't shake this nagging feeling in her gut that maybe, just maybe, she'd bitten off more than she could chew.As night fell over the sleepy village of Highbury, Emma found herself at a crossroads. Should she keep pushing forward with her schemes, or should she pump the brakes and listen to Mr. Knightley?Little did Emma know, the next day would bring a whole new set of challenges. There was a party coming up at Randalls, and it was going to be a real game-changer.