Austen Said:

How could she have been so brutal, so cruel to Miss Bates! How could she have exposed herself to such ill opinion in any one she valued! And how suffer him to leave her without saying one word of gratitude, of concurrence, of common kindness!

it was a morning more completely misspent, more totally bare of rational satisfaction at the time, and more to be abhorred in recollection, than any she had ever passed. A whole evening of back-gammon with her father, was felicity to it. There, indeed, lay real pleasure, for there she was giving up the sweetest hours of the twenty-four to his comfort;

As a daughter, she hoped she was not without a heart. She hoped no one could have said to her, "How could you be so unfeeling to your father?—I must, I will tell you truths while I can." Miss Bates should never again— no, never! If attention, in future, could do away the past, she might hope to be forgiven. She had been often remiss,

remiss, perhaps, more in thought than fact; scornful, ungracious. But it should be so no more. In the warmth of true contrition, she would call upon her the very next morning, and it should be the beginning, on her side, of a regular, equal, kindly intercourse.

It was not unlikely,

that she might see Mr. Knightley in her way; or, perhaps, he might come in while she were paying her visit. She had no objection. She would not be ashamed of the appearance of the penitence, so justly and truly hers.

she shall soon be well.

wishing that the circumstances which she collected from Miss Bates to be now actually determined on, might be as much for Miss Fairfax's advantage and comfort as possible.

she was quite decided against accepting the offer, and for the reasons you mention; exactly as you say, she had made up her mind to close with nothing till Colonel Campbell's return, and nothing should induce her to enter into any engagement at present—

upon thinking over the advantages of Mrs. Smallridge's situation, she had come to the resolution of accepting it.—

she is sure they will; but yet, this is such a situation as she cannot feel herself justified in declining.

The contrast between Mrs. Churchill's importance in the world, and Jane Fairfax's,

one was every thing, the other nothing—

Time, however,

would tell him that they ought to be friends again.

He would have judged better,

if he had not stopped.—

nothing became him more.—It was with him, of so simple, yet so dignified a nature.—

It spoke such perfect amity.—

she wished she had left her ten minutes earlier;—it would have been a great pleasure to talk over Jane Fairfax's situation with Mr. Knightley.—

but it might have happened at a better time—and to have had longer notice of it, would have been pleasanter.—

It was a pity that she had not come back earlier!

how Frank might be affected by the event, how benefited, how freed.

Now, an attachment to Harriet Smith would have nothing to encounter. Mr. Churchill, independent of his wife, was feared by nobody; an easy, guidable man, to be persuaded into any thing by his nephew. All that remained to be wished was, that the nephew should form the attachment,

to be of use to her;

to shew a value for her society, and testify respect and consideration.

to prevail on her to spend a day at Hartfield.

To take her —be it only an hour or two —from her aunt, to give her change of air and scene, and quiet rational conversation, even for an hour or two, might do her good;

she would call for her in the carriage at any hour that Jane would name—

she had Mr. Perry's decided opinion, in favour of such exercise for his patient.

her own note had deserved something better;

thinking an airing might be of the greatest service—

Jane was quite unpersuadable; the mere proposal of going out seemed to make her worse.—

Jane would hardly eat any thing:—Mr. Perry recommended nourishing food; but every thing they could command (and never had any body such good neighbours) was distasteful.

that she was not at all in want of any thing."

she could have no doubt— putting every thing together —that Jane was resolved to receive no kindness from her.

could Mr. Knightley have been privy to all her attempts of assisting Jane Fairfax, could he even have seen into her heart, he would not, on this occasion, have found any thing to reprove.

the probability of its being some money concern— — something just come to light, of a disagreeable nature in the circumstances of the family,—something which the late event at Richmond had brought forward.

Frank Churchill had behaved very ill by herself— very ill in many ways,—but it was not so much his behaviour as her own, which made her so angry with him. It was the scrape which he had drawn her into on Harriet's account, that gave the deepest hue to his offence.—Poor Harriet! to be a second time the dupe of her misconceptions and flattery. Mr. Knightley had spoken prophetically, when he once said,

She was afraid she had done her nothing but disservice.—It was true that she had not to charge herself, in this instance as in the former, with being the sole and original author of the mischief; with having suggested such feelings as might otherwise never have entered Harriet's imagination; for Harriet had acknowledged her admiration and preference of Frank Churchill before she had ever given her a hint on the subject; but she felt completely guilty of having encouraged what she might have repressed. She might have prevented the indulgence and increase of such sentiments. Her influence would have been enough.

she had been risking her friend's happiness on most insufficient grounds. Common sense would have directed her to tell Harriet, that she must not allow herself to think of him, and that there were five hundred chances to one against his ever caring for her.—

Harriet would be anxiety enough; she need no longer be unhappy about Jane, whose troubles and whose ill-health having, of course, the same origin, must be equally under cure.—

Her days of insignificance and evil were over.—She would soon be well, and happy, and prosperous.—

This discovery laid many smaller matters open.

No doubt it had been from jealousy.—In Jane's eyes she had been a rival; and well might any thing she could offer of assistance or regard be repulsed. An airing in the Hartfield carriage would have been the rack, and arrowroot from the Hartfield storeroom must have been poison.

Jane Fairfax would have neither elevation nor happiness beyond her desert. But poor Harriet was such an engrossing charge!

this second disappointment would be more severe than the first. Considering the very superior claims of the object, it ought; and judging by its apparently stronger effect on Harriet's mind, producing reserve and self-command, it would.—She must communicate the painful truth, however, and as soon as possible.

feeling it almost ridiculous, that she should have the very same distressing and delicate office to perform by Harriet, which Mrs. Weston had just gone through by herself. The intelligence, which had been so anxiously announced to her, she was now to be anxiously announcing to another.

so,

had poor Mrs. Weston felt when she was approaching Randalls. Could the event of the disclosure bear an equal resemblance!—But of that, unfortunately, there could be no chance.