Austen Said:

Mr. Knightley cannot stop. He is going to Kingston.

if he could do any thing...."

the dance begun at Mr. Cole's should be finished there —

the same party should be collected, and the same musician engaged,

his friends will be so kind as to visit him there. Better accommodations, he can promise them, and not a less grateful welcome than at Randalls.

had already written to Enscombe to propose staying a few days beyond his fortnight, which could not possibly be refused.

urge his nephew's instant return. Mrs. Churchill was unwell —far too unwell to do without him; she had been in a very suffering state

when writing to her nephew two days before, though from her usual unwillingness to give pain, and constant habit of never thinking of herself, she had not mentioned it; but now she was too ill to trifle, and must entreat him to set off for Enscombe without delay.

as for the ball, it was shocking to have dear Emma disappointed; but they would all be safer at home.

He could not say that he was sorry on his own account;

he was sorry for the disappointment of the others,

Mrs. Churchill was recovering, and he dared not yet, even in his own imagination, fix a time for coming to Randalls again.

not sitting at the bottom of the table himself,

Jane Fairfax received attentions from Mrs. Elton which nobody else paid her.

eight persons at dinner together as the utmost that his nerves could bear— and here would be a ninth —

was unexpectedly summoned to town and must be absent on the very day. He might be able to join them in the evening, but certainly not to dinner.

Mrs. Elton, as elegant as lace and pearls could make her,

only to observe enough for Isabella's information— but Miss Fairfax was an old acquaintance and a quiet girl, and he could talk to her.

he had done his duty, and made every fair lady welcome and easy.

he was employed"—

to be allowed to hand her into the dining-parlour,

He had returned to a late dinner, and walked to Hartfield as soon as it was over.

That a man who might have spent his evening quietly at home after a day of business in London, should set off again, and walk half a mile to another man's house, for the sake of being in mixed company till bed-time, of finishing his day in the efforts of civility and the noise of numbers,

A man who had been in motion since eight o'clock in the morning, and might now have been still, who had been long talking, and might have been silent, who had been in more than one crowd, and might have been alone!—Such a man, to quit the tranquillity and independence of his own fireside, and on the evening of a cold sleety April day rush out again into the world!—

Could he by a touch of his finger have instantly taken back his wife, there would have been a motive; but his coming would probably prolong rather than break up the party.

he had not the smallest doubt of being highly interesting to every body in the room.

it was from Frank, and to herself; he had met with it in his way, and had taken the liberty of opening it.

they are all coming up to town directly, on Mrs. Churchill's account —she has not been well the whole winter, and thinks Enscombe too cold for her—so they are all to move southward without loss of time."

Mrs. Churchill,

has not been able to leave the sofa for a week together.

she complained,

of being too weak to get into her conservatory without having both his arm and his uncle's!

he was sure at this rate it would be May before Hymen's saffron robe would be put on for us.

He was often hoping, intending to come —but was always prevented. His aunt could not bear to have him leave her.

Though much might be fancy, he could not doubt, when he looked back, that she was in a weaker state of health than she had been half a year ago. He did not believe it to proceed from any thing that care and medicine might not remove, or at least that she might not have many years of existence before her;

It was the very circumstance he could have wished for. Now, it would be really having Frank in their neighbourhood. What were nine miles to a young man?—An hour's ride. He would be always coming over. The difference in that respect of Richmond and London was enough to make the whole difference of seeing him always and seeing him never. Sixteen miles— — nay, eighteen — —it must be full eighteen to Manchester-street —was a serious obstacle. Were he ever able to get away, the day would be spent in coming and returning. There was no comfort in having him in London; he might as well be at Enscombe; but Richmond was the very distance for easy intercourse. Better than nearer!

his aunt felt already much better for the change, and

he had no doubt of being able to join them for twenty-four hours at any given time,

neither dear little Henry nor dear little John would have any thing the matter with them, while dear Emma were gone.

an engaged man,

it had been unpardonable rudeness;

he could not allow himself the pleasure of stopping at Hartfield, as he was to be at home by the middle of the day.

By a most fortunate chance his leaving Highbury had been delayed so as to bring him to her assistance at this critical moment. The pleasantness of the morning had induced him to walk forward, and leave his horses to meet him by another road, a mile or two beyond Highbury— and happening to have borrowed a pair of scissors the night before of Miss Bates, and to have forgotten to restore them, he had been obliged to stop at her door, and go in for a few minutes: he was therefore later than he had intended; and being on foot, was unseen by the whole party till almost close to them. The terror which the woman and boy had been creating in Harriet was then their own portion.

He had left them completely frightened; and Harriet eagerly clinging to him, and hardly able to speak, had just strength enough to reach Hartfield, before her spirits were quite overcome. It was his idea to bring her to Hartfield: he had thought of no other place.

He dared not stay longer than to see her well; these several delays left him not another minute to lose;

their promising never to go beyond the shrubbery again.

they were all very indifferent—

the story of Harriet and the gipsies,

That Emma was his object appeared indisputable. Every thing declared it; his own attentions, his father's hints, his mother-in-law's guarded silence; it was all in unison; words, conduct, discretion, and indiscretion, told the same story.

suspect him of some inclination to trifle with Jane Fairfax.