Austen Said:

he was soon diffused again among the others, and it was only at intervals that he could return to Lyme.

Having alluded to

he must hear the whole.

he had looked at her with some earnestness.

their being nothing in themselves,

as a family connexion, as good company, as those who would collect good company around them, they had their value.

in having been wished for, regretted, and at the same time honoured for staying away in such a cause.

her a most extraordinary young woman; in her temper, manners, mind, a model of female excellence.

whether the Crofts travelled with four horses, and whether they were likely to be situated in such a part of Bath as it might suit Miss Elliot and himself to visit in;

Lady Dalrymple would be most happy to take them home, and would call for them in a few minutes.

his cousin Anne's boots were rather the thickest.

was grieved to have kept her waiting, and anxious to get her away without further loss of time and before the rain increased;

owned himself disappointed, had expected singing;

must confess that he should not be sorry when it was over.

He begged her pardon, but she must be applied to, to explain Italian again. Miss Carteret was very anxious to have a general idea of what was next to be sung.

he was really going out of Bath the next morning, going early, and

he would be gone the greater part of two days.

Captain Harville's wanting to come to Bath on business. He had begun to talk of it a week ago; and by way of doing something, as shooting was over, Charles had proposed coming with him, and Mrs Harville had seemed to like the idea of it very much, as an advantage to her husband; but Mary could not bear to be left, and had made herself so unhappy about it, that for a day or two everything seemed to be in suspense, or at an end. But then, it had been taken up by his father and mother. His mother had some old friends in Bath whom she wanted to see; it was thought a good opportunity for Henrietta to come and buy wedding-clothes for herself and her sister; and, in short, it ended in being his mother's party, that everything might be comfortable and easy to Captain Harville; and he and Mary were included in it by way of general convenience. They had arrived late the night before. Mrs Harville, her children, and Captain Benwick, remained with Mr Musgrove and Louisa at Uppercross.

very recently, (since Mary's last letter to herself), Charles Hayter had been applied to by a friend to hold a living for a youth who could not possibly claim it under many years;

on the strength of his present income, with almost a certainty of something more permanent long before the term in question, the two families had consented to the young people's wishes,

their marriage was likely to take place in a few months, quite as soon as Louisa's.

he would go to the play to-morrow if nobody else would.

Mary and Henrietta, too impatient to wait, had gone out the moment it had cleared, but would be back again soon,

their pardon, but he had forgotten his gloves,

having loved none but her. She had never been supplanted. He never even believed himself to see her equal.

that he had been constant unconsciously, nay unintentionally; that he had meant to forget her, and believed it to be done. He had imagined himself indifferent, when he had only been angry; and he had been unjust to her merits, because he had been a sufferer from them. Her character was now fixed on his mind as perfection itself, maintaining the loveliest medium of fortitude and gentleness; but he was obliged to acknowledge that only at Uppercross had he learnt to do her justice, and only at Lyme had he begun to understand himself.

he had for ever felt it to be impossible;

he had not cared, could not care, for Louisa; though till that day, till the leisure for reflection which followed it, he had not understood the perfect excellence of the mind with which Louisa's could so ill bear a comparison, or the perfect unrivalled hold it possessed over his own. There, he had learnt to distinguish between the steadiness of principle and the obstinacy of self-will, between the darings of heedlessness and the resolution of a collected mind. There he had seen everything to exalt in his estimation the woman he had lost; and there begun to deplore the pride, the folly, the madness of resentment, which had kept him from trying to regain her when thrown in his way.

From that period his penance had become severe. He had no sooner been free from the horror and remorse attending the first few days of Louisa's accident, no sooner begun to feel himself alive again, than he had begun to feel himself, though alive, not at liberty.

He found too late, in short, that he had entangled himself; and that precisely as he became fully satisfied of his not caring for Louisa at all, he must regard himself as bound to her, if her sentiments for him were what the Harvilles supposed. It determined him to leave Lyme, and await her complete recovery elsewhere. He would gladly weaken, by any fair means, whatever feelings or speculations concerning him might exist; and he went, therefore, to his brother's, meaning after a while to return to Kellynch, and act as circumstances might require.

He had remained in Shropshire, lamenting the blindness of his own pride, and the blunders of his own calculations, till at once released from Louisa by the astonishing and felicitous intelligence of her engagement with Benwick.

his superiority of appearance might be not unfairly balanced against her superiority of rank;

a pretty girl.

how they did,

they both looked very ugly.

to dine with them,

he had quitted it for a week, on the very morning after his having had the pleasure of seeing her.

the spirit and freedom with which his horse moved along, and the ease which his paces, as well as the excellence of the springs, gave the motion of the carriage.

horses which he had bought for a trifle and sold for incredible sums;

racing matches, in which his judgment had infallibly foretold the winner;

shooting parties, in which he had killed more birds (though without having one good shot) than all his companions together;

some famous day’s sport, with the fox-hounds, in which his foresight and skill in directing the dogs had repaired the mistakes of the most experienced huntsman, and in which the boldness of his riding,

though it had never endangered his own life for a moment,

had been constantly leading others into difficulties,

had broken the necks of many.

he had never seen two men so much alike in his life,

what was the matter.

a gentleman and lady had called and inquired for her a few minutes after her setting off;

when he told them she was gone out with Mr. Thorpe, the lady had asked whether any message had been left for her; and on his saying no, had felt for a card, but said she had none about her, and went away.

believed Miss Tilney to be at home, but was not quite certain. Would she be pleased to send up her name?