Austen Said:

"or after such a warning, I should be the last to encourage such affection, or even to be pleased by it. But his coming for me as he did, with such active, such ready friendship, is enough to prove him one of the worthiest of men."

"Oh! my love, I could not then talk of hope to him or to myself. Marianne might at that moment be dying. But he did not ask for hope or encouragement. His was an involuntary confidence, an irrepressible effusion to a soothing friend — not an application to a parent. Yet after a time I DID say, for at first I was quite overcome — that if she lived, as I trusted she might, my greatest happiness would lie in promoting their marriage; and since our arrival, since our delightful security, I have repeated it to him more fully, have given him every encouragement in my power. Time, a very little time, I tell him, will do everything; — Marianne's heart is not to be wasted for ever on such a man as Willoughby. — His own merits must soon secure it."

"No. — He thinks Marianne's affection too deeply rooted for any change in it under a great length of time, and even supposing her heart again free, is too diffident of himself to believe, that with such a difference of age and disposition he could ever attach her. There, however, he is quite mistaken. His age is only so much beyond hers as to be an advantage, as to make his character and principles fixed; — and his disposition, I am well convinced, is exactly the very one to make your sister happy. And his person, his manners too, are all in his favour. My partiality does not blind me; he certainly is not so handsome as Willoughby — but at the same time, there is something much more pleasing in his countenance. — There was always a something, — if you remember, — in Willoughby's eyes at times, which I did not like."

"And his manners, the Colonel's manners are not only more pleasing to me than Willoughby's ever were, but they are of a kind I well know to be more solidly attaching to Marianne. Their gentleness, their genuine attention to other people, and their manly unstudied simplicity is much more accordant with her real disposition, than the liveliness — often artificial, and often ill-timed of the other. I am very sure myself, that had Willoughby turned out as really amiable, as he has proved himself the contrary, Marianne would yet never have been so happy with HIM, as she will be with Colonel Brandon."

"At Delaford, she will be within an easy distance of me,"

"even if I remain at Barton; and in all probability, — for I hear it is a large village, — indeed there certainly MUST be some small house or cottage close by, that would suit us quite as well as our present situation."

"His fortune too! — for at my time of life you know, everybody cares about THAT; — and though I neither know nor desire to know, what it really is, I am sure it must be a good one."

"I know it — I know it,"

"Happy with a man of libertine practices! — With one who so injured the peace of the dearest of our friends, and the best of men! — No — my Marianne has not a heart to be made happy with such a man! — Her conscience, her sensitive conscience, would have felt all that the conscience of her husband ought to have felt."

"Rather say your mother's imprudence, my child,"

"SHE must be answerable."

"Who told you that Mr. Ferrars was married, Thomas?"

"But did she tell you she was married, Thomas?"

"Was Mr. Ferrars in the carriage with her?"

"Was there no one else in the carriage?"

"Do you know where they came from?"

"And are they going farther westward?"

"Did you see them off, before you came away?"

"Did Mrs. Ferrars look well?"

"I wrote to him, my love, last week, and rather expect to see, than to hear from him again. I earnestly pressed his coming to us, and should not be surprised to see him walk in today or tomorrow, or any day."

"You have given Miss Smith all that she required,"

"you have made her graceful and easy. She was a beautiful creature when she came to you, but, in my opinion, the attractions you have added are infinitely superior to what she received from nature."

"If it were admissible to contradict a lady,"

"Exactly so; that is what principally strikes me. So much superadded decision of character! Skilful has been the hand!"

"I have no doubt of it."

"Let me entreat you,"

"it would indeed be a delight! Let me entreat you, Miss Woodhouse, to exercise so charming a talent in favour of your friend. I know what your drawings are. How could you suppose me ignorant? Is not this room rich in specimens of your landscapes and flowers; and has not Mrs. Weston some inimitable figure-pieces in her drawing-room, at Randalls?"

"Exactly so— The shape of the eye and the lines about the mouth— I have not a doubt of your success. Pray, pray attempt it. As you will do it, it will indeed, to use your own words, be an exquisite possession."

"Oh! yes, I observed it, I assure you. It was not lost on me. But still I cannot imagine she would not be persuaded."

"No husbands and wives in the case at present indeed, as you observe. Exactly so. No husbands and wives,"

"Do you think so?"

"I cannot agree with you. It appears to me a most perfect resemblance in every feature. I never saw such a likeness in my life. We must allow for the effect of shade, you know."

"Oh no! certainly not too tall; not in the least too tall. Consider, she is sitting down—which naturally presents a different— which in short gives exactly the idea— and the proportions must be preserved, you know. Proportions, fore-shortening.—Oh no! it gives one exactly the idea of such a height as Miss Smith's. Exactly so indeed!"

"You, sir, may say any thing,"

"but I must confess that I regard it as a most happy thought, the placing of Miss Smith out of doors; and the tree is touched with such inimitable spirit! Any other situation would have been much less in character. The naivete of Miss Smith's manners—and altogether— — Oh, it is most admirable! I cannot keep my eyes from it. I never saw such a likeness."

"What a precious deposit!"

"Oh no! he had never written, hardly ever, any thing of the kind in his life. The stupidest fellow! He was afraid not even Miss Woodhouse"—

"or Miss Smith could inspire him."

"I do not offer it for Miss Smith's collection,"

"Being my friend's, I have no right to expose it in any degree to the public eye, but perhaps you may not dislike looking at it."

"I have no hesitation in saying,"

"I have no hesitation in saying— at least if my friend feels at all as I do— I have not the smallest doubt that, could he see his little effusion honoured as I see it,

he would consider it as the proudest moment of his life."

"A sore-throat!—I hope not infectious. I hope not of a putrid infectious sort. Has Perry seen her? Indeed you should take care of yourself as well as of your friend. Let me entreat you to run no risks. Why does not Perry see her?"

"very cold, certainly very cold,"

"You do quite right,"

"Oh! no —I am grieved to find— I was on the point of telling you that when I called at Mrs. Goddard's door, which I did the very last thing before I returned to dress,

I was told that

Very much grieved and concerned —I had flattered myself that she must be better after such a cordial as I knew had been given her in the morning."

"Yes—I imagined ——that is —I did not—"