Austen Said:

"The soil is good; and I never pass it without regretting that the fruit should be so little worth the trouble of gathering."

"You were imposed on, ma'am,"

"these potatoes have as much the flavour of a Moor Park apricot as the fruit from that tree. It is an insipid fruit at the best; but a good apricot is eatable, which none from my garden are."

"But where is Fanny? Why do not I see my little Fanny?"—

his dear Fanny,

how much she was grown!

he need not inquire, for her appearance spoke sufficiently on that point.

His business in Antigua had latterly been prosperously rapid, and he came directly from Liverpool, having had an opportunity of making his passage thither in a private vessel, instead of waiting for the packet;

his good fortune in finding them all at home— coming unexpectedly as he did— all collected together exactly as he could have wished, but dared not depend on.

he would rather wait for tea.

"Still the same anxiety for everybody's comfort, my dear Mrs. Norris,"

"But indeed I would rather have nothing but tea."

"Indeed! and what have you been acting?"

he found that he could not be any longer in the house without just looking into his own dear room,

Some one was talking there in a very loud accent; he did not know the voice —more than talking— almost hallooing.

making part of a ridiculous exhibition in the midst of theatrical nonsense,

"I come from your theatre,"

"I found myself in it rather unexpectedly. Its vicinity to my own room—but in every respect, indeed, it took me by surprise, as I had not the smallest suspicion of your acting having assumed so serious a character. It appears a neat job, however, as far as I could judge by candlelight, and does my friend Christopher Jackson credit."

"On your judgment, Edmund, I depended; what have you been about?"

"My indulgence shall be given, sir,"

"but without any other rehearsal."

"I come home to be happy and indulgent."

"Mr. and Miss Crawford were mentioned in my last letters from Mansfield. Do you find them agreeable acquaintance?"

"I am happy to find our sentiments on this subject so much the same. It gives me sincere satisfaction. That I should be cautious and quick-sighted, and feel many scruples which my children do not feel, is perfectly natural; and equally so that my value for domestic tranquillity, for a home which shuts out noisy pleasures, should much exceed theirs. But at your time of life to feel all this, is a most favourable circumstance for yourself, and for everybody connected with you; and I am sensible of the importance of having an ally of such weight."

The reproof of an immediate conclusion of everything, the sweep of every preparation, would be sufficient.

The young people had been very inconsiderate in forming the plan; they ought to have been capable of a better decision themselves; but they were young; and, excepting Edmund, he believed, of unsteady characters; and with greater surprise, therefore, he must regard her acquiescence in their wrong measures, her countenance of their unsafe amusements, than that such measures and such amusements should have been suggested.

"I know how great, how justly great, your influence is with Lady Bertram and her children, and am the more concerned that it should not have been."

"I hope we shall always think the acquaintance worth any trouble that might be taken to establish it. There is nothing very striking in Mr. Rushworth's manners, but I was pleased last night with what appeared to be his opinion on one subject: his decided preference of a quiet family party to the bustle and confusion of acting. He seemed to feel exactly as one could wish."

where the present pleasure of those she loved was at stake, her kindness did sometimes overpower her judgment.

of his being then at least as far off as Northampton.

another day or two would suffice to wipe away every outward memento of what had been, even to the destruction of every unbound copy of Lovers' Vows in the house,

She could not, did not like him.

Advantageous as would be the alliance, and long standing and public as was the engagement, her happiness must not be sacrificed to it. Mr. Rushworth had, perhaps, been accepted on too short an acquaintance, and, on knowing him better, she was repenting.

to be open and sincere,

assured her that every inconvenience should be braved, and the connexion entirely given up, if she felt herself unhappy in the prospect of it. He would act for her and release her.

Mr. Rushworth was young enough to improve. Mr. Rushworth must and would improve in good society; and if Maria could now speak so securely of her happiness with him, speaking certainly without the prejudice, the blindness of love, she ought to be believed. Her feelings, probably, were not acute; he had never supposed them to be so; but her comforts might not be less on that account; and if she could dispense with seeing her husband a leading, shining character, there would certainly be everything else in her favour. A well-disposed young woman, who did not marry for love, was in general but the more attached to her own family; and the nearness of Sotherton to Mansfield must naturally hold out the greatest temptation, and would, in all probability, be a continual supply of the most amiable and innocent enjoyments.

to eat his mutton with him the next day;

"Very well, very well,"

"all the better; I am glad to hear you have anything so good in the house. But Miss Price and Mr. Edmund Bertram, I dare say, would take their chance. We none of us want to hear the bill of fare. A friendly meeting, and not a fine dinner, is all we have in view. A turkey, or a goose, or a leg of mutton, or whatever you and your cook chuse to give us."

"Well,"

"She will be late,"

"but what is your difficulty?"

"Nothing can be more natural,"

"nor, were there no sister in the case, could anything, in my opinion, be more natural. Mrs. Grant's shewing civility to Miss Price, to Lady Bertram's niece, could never want explanation. The only surprise I can feel is, that this should be the first time of its being paid. Fanny was perfectly right in giving only a conditional answer. She appears to feel as she ought. But as I conclude that she must wish to go, since all young people like to be together, I can see no reason why she should be denied the indulgence."

"Indeed I think you may."

"Your sister, perhaps, may be prevailed on to spend the day with us, and I shall certainly be at home."

"Fanny, at what time would you have the carriage come round?"

"Walk!"

"My niece walk to a dinner engagement at this time of the year! Will twenty minutes after four suit you?"

Mr. Crawford was somewhat distinguishing his niece—