Austen Said:

"I do not know.—One of the Otways.—Not Frank;—it is not Frank, I assure you. You will not see him. He is half way to Windsor by this time."

"Oh! yes —did not you know?—Well, well, never mind."

"Yes, Frank came over this morning, just to ask us how we did."

"Well, my dear,"

"I have brought her, and now I hope you will soon be better. I shall leave you together. There is no use in delay. I shall not be far off, if you want me."—

"I have been as good as my word. She has not the least idea."

"For the present, the whole affair was to be completely a secret. Mr. Churchill had made a point of it, as a token of respect to the wife he had so very recently lost; and every body admitted it to be no more than due decorum."—

"Well, Miss Woodhouse!"

"is not this the oddest news that ever was?"

"About Jane Fairfax. Did you ever hear any thing so strange? Oh!—you need not be afraid of owning it to me, for Mr. Weston has told me himself. I met him just now.

He told me

and, therefore, I should not think of mentioning it to any body but you, but he said you knew it."

"Oh!

he told me all about it; that

that

How very odd!"

"Had you any idea,"

"of his being in love with her?—You, perhaps, might.—You

who can see into every body's heart; but nobody else—"

"Me!"

"Why should you caution me?—You do not think I care about Mr. Frank Churchill."

"Him!—never, never. Dear Miss Woodhouse, how could you so mistake me?"

"I should not have thought it possible,"

"that you could have misunderstood me! I know we agreed never to name him—but considering how infinitely superior he is to every body else, I should not have thought it possible that I could be supposed to mean any other person. Mr. Frank Churchill, indeed! I do not know who would ever look at him in the company of the other. I hope I have a better taste than to think of Mr. Frank Churchill, who is like nobody by his side. And that you should have been so mistaken, is amazing!—I am sure, but for believing that you entirely approved and meant to encourage me in my attachment, I should have considered it at first too great a presumption almost, to dare to think of him. At first,

if you had not told me that

that

(those were your very words);—I should not have dared to give way to— I should not have thought it possible— But if you, who had been always acquainted with him —"

"To be sure I am. I never could have an idea of any body else—and so I thought you knew. When we talked about him, it was as clear as possible."

"Oh! Miss Woodhouse, how you do forget!"

"Oh, dear,"

"now I recollect what you mean; but I was thinking of something very different at the time. It was not the gipsies— it was not Mr. Frank Churchill that I meant. No!

I was thinking of a much more precious circumstance— — of Mr. Knightley's coming and asking me to dance, when Mr. Elton would not stand up with me; and when there was no other partner in the room. That was the kind action; that was the noble benevolence and generosity; that was the service which made me begin to feel how superior he was to every other being upon earth."

"You would not have encouraged me, then, if you had understood me? At least, however, I cannot be worse off than I should have been, if the other had been the person; and now—it is possible—"

"I do not wonder, Miss Woodhouse,"

"that you should feel a great difference between the two, as to me or as to any body. You must think one five hundred million times more above me than the other. But I hope, Miss Woodhouse, that supposing —that if —strange as it may appear—. But you know

they were your own words, that

and, therefore, it seems as if such a thing even as this, may have occurred before—and if I should be so fortunate, beyond expression, as to— if Mr. Knightley should really —if he does not mind the disparity, I hope, dear Miss Woodhouse, you will not set yourself against it, and try to put difficulties in the way. But you are too good for that, I am sure."

"Yes,"

"I must say that I have."

"Mr. Martin! No indeed!—There was not a hint of Mr. Martin. I hope I know better now, than to care for Mr. Martin, or to be suspected of it."

"I never should have presumed to think of it at first,"

"but for you. You told me to observe him carefully, and let his behaviour be the rule of mine—and so I have. But now I seem to feel that I may deserve him; and that if he does chuse me, it will not be any thing so very wonderful."

"She could not compose herself — — Mr. Woodhouse would be alarmed— she had better go;"—

"such things,"

"always got about."

"Thank you, dear Miss Woodhouse, you are all kindness.—It is impossible to say— — Yes, indeed, I quite understand—dearest Jane's prospects —that is, I do not mean.—But she is charmingly recovered.—How is Mr. Woodhouse?—I am so glad.—Quite out of my power.—Such a happy little circle as you find us here.—Yes, indeed.—Charming young man!—that is— so very friendly; I mean good Mr. Perry!—such attention to Jane!"—

"What! are we to have the pleasure of a call from Mr. Elton?—That will be a favour indeed! for I know gentlemen do not like morning visits, and Mr. Elton's time is so engaged."

"When I got to Donwell,"

"Knightley could not be found. Very odd! very unaccountable! after the note I sent him this morning, and

the message he returned, that