Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

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"I am not sorry to see you alone,"
"for I have a good deal to say to you. This living of Colonel Brandon's — can it be true? — has he really given it to Edward? — I heard it yesterday by chance, and was coming to you on purpose to enquire farther about it."
"Really! — Well, this is very astonishing! — no relationship! — no connection between them! — and now that livings fetch such a price! — what was the value of this?"
"Very well — and for the next presentation to a living of that value — supposing the late incumbent to have been old and sickly, and likely to vacate it soon — he might have got I dare say — fourteen hundred pounds. And how came he not to have settled that matter before this person's death? — NOW indeed it would be too late to sell it, but a man of Colonel Brandon's sense! — I wonder he should be so improvident in a point of such common, such natural, concern! — Well, I am convinced that there is a vast deal of inconsistency in almost every human character. I suppose, however — on recollection — that the case may probably be THIS. Edward is only to hold the living till the person to whom the Colonel has really sold the presentation, is old enough to take it. — Aye, aye, that is the fact, depend upon it."
"It is truly astonishing!"—
"what could be the Colonel's motive?"
"Well, well; whatever Colonel Brandon may be, Edward is a very lucky man. — You will not mention the matter to Fanny, however, for though I have broke it to her, and she bears it vastly well, — she will not like to hear it much talked of."
"Mrs. Ferrars,"
"knows nothing about it at present, and I believe it will be best to keep it entirely concealed from her as long as may be. — When the marriage takes place, I fear she must hear of it all."
"Ah! Elinor,"
"your reasoning is very good, but it is founded on ignorance of human nature. When Edward's unhappy match takes place, depend upon it his mother will feel as much as if she had never discarded him; and, therefore every circumstance that may accelerate that dreadful event, must be concealed from her as much as possible. Mrs. Ferrars can never forget that Edward is her son."
"You wrong her exceedingly. Mrs. Ferrars is one of the most affectionate mothers in the world."
"We think NOW," —
"of ROBERT'S marrying Miss Morton."
"Choice! — how do you mean?"
"Certainly, there can be no difference; for Robert will now to all intents and purposes be considered as the eldest son; — and as to any thing else, they are both very agreeable young men: I do not know that one is superior to the other."
"Of ONE thing, my dear sister,"
"I may assure you; — and I WILL do it, because I know it must gratify you. I have good reason to think — indeed I have it from the best authority, or I should not repeat it, for otherwise it would be very wrong to say any thing about it — but I have it from the very best authority — not that I ever precisely heard Mrs. Ferrars say it herself — but her daughter DID, and I have it from her — That in short, whatever objections there might be against a certain — a certain connection — you understand me — it would have been far preferable to her, it would not have given her half the vexation that THIS does. I was exceedingly pleased to hear that Mrs. Ferrars considered it in that light — a very gratifying circumstance you know to us all.
she said,
But however, all that is quite out of the question — not to be thought of or mentioned — as to any attachment you know — it never could be — all that is gone by. But I thought I would just tell you of this, because I knew how much it must please you. Not that you have any reason to regret, my dear Elinor. There is no doubt of your doing exceedingly well — quite as well, or better, perhaps, all things considered. Has Colonel Brandon been with you lately?"
"We know nothing of our unfortunate Edward, and can make no enquiries on so prohibited a subject, but conclude him to be still at Oxford;"
"Mrs. Ferrars has never yet mentioned Edward's name, which does not surprise us; but, to our great astonishment, not a line has been received from him on the occasion. Perhaps, however, he is kept silent by his fear of offending, and I shall, therefore, give him a hint, by a line to Oxford, that his sister and I both think a letter of proper submission from him, addressed perhaps to Fanny, and by her shewn to her mother, might not be taken amiss; for we all know the tenderness of Mrs. Ferrars's heart, and that she wishes for nothing so much as to be on good terms with her children."
"I will not say that I am disappointed, my dear sister,"
"THAT would be saying too much, for certainly you have been one of the most fortunate young women in the world, as it is. But, I confess, it would give me great pleasure to call Colonel Brandon brother. His property here, his place, his house, every thing is in such respectable and excellent condition! — and his woods! — I have not seen such timber any where in Dorsetshire, as there is now standing in Delaford Hanger! — And though, perhaps, Marianne may not seem exactly the person to attract him — yet I think it would altogether be advisable for you to have them now frequently staying with you, for as Colonel Brandon seems a great deal at home, nobody can tell what may happen — for, when people are much thrown together, and see little of anybody else — and it will always be in your power to set her off to advantage, and so forth; — in short, you may as well give her a chance — You understand me." —
"Oh yes, sir,"
"how you must miss her! And dear Emma, too!—What a dreadful loss to you both!—I have been so grieved for you.—I could not imagine how you could possibly do without her.—It is a sad change indeed.—But I hope she is pretty well, sir."
"And do you see her, sir, tolerably often?"
"Me, my love,"
"Are you talking about me?—I am sure nobody ought to be, or can be, a greater advocate for matrimony than I am; and if it had not been for the misery of her leaving Hartfield, I should never have thought of Miss Taylor but as the most fortunate woman in the world; and as to slighting Mr. Weston, that excellent Mr. Weston, I think there is nothing he does not deserve. I believe he is one of the very best-tempered men that ever existed. Excepting yourself and your brother, I do not know his equal for temper. I shall never forget his flying Henry's kite for him that very windy day last Easter—and ever since his particular kindness last September twelvemonth in
at twelve o'clock at night,
I have been convinced there could not be a more feeling heart nor a better man in existence.—If any body can deserve him, it must be Miss Taylor."
"How very pleasing and proper of him!"
"I have no doubt of his being a most amiable young man. But how sad it is that he should not live at home with his father! There is something so shocking in a child's being taken away from his parents and natural home! I never could comprehend how Mr. Weston could part with him. To give up one's child! I really never could think well of any body who proposed such a thing to any body else."
"Mr. Wingfield most strenuously recommended it, sir—or we should not have gone. He recommended it for all the children, but particularly for the weakness in little Bella's throat,—both sea air and bathing."
"Oh! good Mr. Perry— how is he, sir?"
"And Mrs. Perry and the children, how are they? do the children grow? I have a great regard for Mr. Perry. I hope he will be calling soon. He will be so pleased to see my little ones."
"Oh! my dear sir, her throat is so much better that I have hardly any uneasiness about it. Either bathing has been of the greatest service to her, or else it is to be attributed to an excellent embrocation of Mr. Wingfield's, which we have been applying at times ever since August."
"Oh! the good Bateses— I am quite ashamed of myself —but you mention them in most of your letters. I hope they are quite well. Good old Mrs. Bates— I will call upon her to-morrow, and take my children.—They are always so pleased to see my children.—And that excellent Miss Bates!—such thorough worthy people!—How are they, sir?"
"How sorry I am! But colds were never so prevalent as they have been this autumn.
Mr. Wingfield told me that
"No, I do not know that Mr. Wingfield considers it very sickly except—
"No, indeed—we are not at all in a bad air. Our part of London is very superior to most others!—You must not confound us with London in general, my dear sir. The neighbourhood of Brunswick Square is very different from almost all the rest. We are so very airy! I should be unwilling, I own, to live in any other part of the town;—there is hardly any other that I could be satisfied to have my children in: but we are so remarkably airy!—
Mr. Wingfield thinks
"I am sorry to hear you say so, sir; but I assure you, excepting those little nervous head-aches and palpitations which I am never entirely free from anywhere, I am quite well myself; and if the children were rather pale before they went to bed, it was only because they were a little more tired than usual, from their journey and the happiness of coming. I hope you will think better of their looks to-morrow; for I assure you
Mr. Wingfield told me, that
I trust, at least, that you do not think Mr. Knightley looking ill,"
"I am sorry to find, my love, that my father does not think you looking well—but I hope it is only from being a little fatigued. I could have wished, however, as you know, that you had seen Mr. Wingfield before you left home."
"That sweet, amiable Jane Fairfax!"
"It is so long since I have seen her, except now and then for a moment accidentally in town! What happiness it must be to her good old grandmother and excellent aunt, when she comes to visit them! I always regret excessively on dear Emma's account that she cannot be more at Highbury; but now their daughter is married, I suppose Colonel and Mrs. Campbell will not be able to part with her at all. She would be such a delightful companion for Emma."
"I am most happy to hear it—but only Jane Fairfax one knows to be so very accomplished and superior!—and exactly Emma's age."