Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels


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“Well, other people must judge for themselves, and those who go to London may think nothing of Bath. But I, who live in a small retired village in the country, can never find greater sameness in such a place as this than in my own home; for here are a variety of amusements, a variety of things to be seen and done all day long, which I can know nothing of there.”
“Yes, I am. I have always lived there, and always been very happy. But certainly there is much more sameness in a country life than in a Bath life. One day in the country is exactly like another.”
“Do I?”
“I do not believe there is much difference.”
“And so I am at home — only I do not find so much of it. I walk about here, and so I do there; but here I see a variety of people in every street, and there I can only go and call on Mrs. Allen.”
“Oh! Yes. I shall never be in want of something to talk of again to Mrs. Allen, or anybody else. I really believe I shall always be talking of Bath, when I am at home again — I do like it so very much. If I could but have Papa and Mamma, and the rest of them here, I suppose I should be too happy! James’s coming (my eldest brother) is quite delightful — and especially as it turns out that the very family we are just got so intimate with are his intimate friends already. Oh! Who can ever be tired of Bath?”
“How handsome a family they are!”
she might find nobody to go with her,
“I shall like it,”
“beyond anything in the world; and do not let us put it off — let us go tomorrow.”
it would not.
“Remember — twelve o’clock,”
A bright morning so early in the year,
would generally turn to rain, but a cloudy one foretold improvement as the day advanced.
“Oh! dear, I do believe it will be wet,”
“No walk for me today,”
“but perhaps it may come to nothing, or it may hold up before twelve.”
“Oh! That will not signify; I never mind dirt.”
“It comes on faster and faster!”
“There are four umbrellas up already. How I hate the sight of an umbrella!”
“It was such a nice-looking morning! I felt so convinced it would be dry!”
if it still kept on raining another five minutes, she would give up the matter as hopeless.
“I do not quite despair yet. I shall not give it up till a quarter after twelve. This is just the time of day for it to clear up, and I do think it looks a little lighter. There, it is twenty minutes after twelve, and now I shall give it up entirely. Oh! That we had such weather here as they had at Udolpho, or at least in Tuscany and the south of France! — the night that poor St. Aubin died! — such beautiful weather!”
“Isabella, my brother, and Mr. Thorpe, I declare! They are coming for me perhaps — but I shall not go — I cannot go indeed, for you know Miss Tilney may still call.”
“To Bristol! Is not that a great way off? But, however, I cannot go with you today, because I am engaged; I expect some friends every moment.”
“Blaize Castle!”
“What is that’?”
“What, is it really a castle, an old castle?”
“But is it like what one reads of?”
“But now really — are there towers and long galleries?”
“Then I should like to see it; but I cannot — I cannot go.
“I cannot go, because”
“I expect Miss Tilney and her brother to call on me to take a country walk. They promised to come at twelve, only it rained; but now, as it is so fine, I dare say they will be here soon.”
“I do not know indeed.”
“Did you indeed?”
“It is very odd! But I suppose they thought it would be too dirty for a walk.”
“I should like to see the castle; but may we go all over it? May we go up every staircase, and into every suite of rooms?”
“But then, if they should only be gone out for an hour till it is dryer, and call by and by?”
“Then I will. Shall I go, Mrs. Allen?”
the Tilneys had acted quite well by her, in so readily giving up their engagement, without sending her any message of excuse. It was now but an hour later than the time fixed on for the beginning of their walk;
they might have gone with very little inconvenience.
“Who? Where?”
“Stop, stop, Mr. Thorpe,”
“it is Miss Tilney; it is indeed. How could you tell me they were gone? Stop, stop, I will get out this moment and go to them.”
“Pray, pray stop, Mr. Thorpe. I cannot go on. I will not go on. I must go back to Miss Tilney.”
“How could you deceive me so, Mr. Thorpe? How could you say that you saw them driving up the Lansdown Road? I would not have had it happen so for the world. They must think it so strange, so rude of me! To go by them, too, without saying a word! You do not know how vexed I am; I shall have no pleasure at Clifton, nor in anything else. I had rather, ten thousand times rather, get out now, and walk back to them. How could you say you saw them driving out in a phaeton?”
“No, he is not,”