Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

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what they had told her,
if I thought I should go and stay there again next summer."
he was very agreeable the day he dined there. He sat by her at dinner.
either of the Coxes would be very glad to marry him."
she was going to call on the Bateses, in order to hear the new instrument.
if she wanted plain muslin it was of no use to look at figured; and
a blue ribbon, be it ever so beautiful, would still never match her yellow pattern.
every body ought to have two pair of spectacles;
she thought the kitchen chimney wanted sweeping.
the orchard was always famous in her younger days.
I had made him believe we had a great many left.
their being all sent away.
her master should not be able to have another apple-tart this spring. He told Patty this, but
not mind it, and be sure not to say any thing to us about it, for Mrs. Hodges would be cross sometimes, and as long as so many sacks were sold, it did not signify who ate the remainder.
she had not yet possessed the instrument long enough to touch it without emotion; she must reason herself into the power of performance;
the pianoforte,
to be altogether of the highest promise.
This amiable, upright, perfect Jane Fairfax was apparently cherishing very reprehensible feelings.
she wanted something from Kingston."
it really time to be at home; the visit had already lasted long;
to play as long as they could wish to dance;
Had she intended ever to marry him, it might have been worth while to pause and consider, and try to understand the value of his preference, and the character of his temper; but for all the purposes of their acquaintance, he was quite amiable enough.
no objection to it, provided you are satisfied.
having no regular supper; merely sandwiches, &c., set out in the little room;
the evils of it much less than she had supposed before— indeed very trifling;
for a few days they must be planning, proceeding and hoping in uncertainty —at the risk —
the great risk, of its being all in vain.
Either because he did not dance himself, or because the plan had been formed without his being consulted, he seemed resolved that it should not interest him, determined against its exciting any present curiosity, or affording him any future amusement.
It was not to oblige Jane Fairfax therefore that he would have preferred the society of William Larkins. No!—she was more and more convinced that Mrs. Weston was quite mistaken in that surmise. There was a great deal of friendly and of compassionate attachment on his side— but no love.
As to his going, it was inevitable. He must be gone within a few hours, though without feeling any real alarm for his aunt, to lessen his repugnance. He knew her illnesses; they never occurred but for her own convenience.
The loss of the ball —the loss of the young man— and all that the young man might be feeling!—It was too wretched!—Such a delightful evening as it would have been!—Every body so happy! and she and her partner the happiest!—
it had been so.
He could not believe her to be encouraging him.
He was more in love with her than Emma had supposed;
It was a sad change. They had been meeting almost every day since his arrival. Certainly his being at Randalls had given great spirit to the last two weeks— indescribable spirit; the idea, the expectation of seeing him which every morning had brought, the assurance of his attentions, his liveliness, his manners!
It had been a very happy fortnight, and forlorn must be the sinking from it into the common course of Hartfield days. To complete every other recommendation, he had almost told her that he loved her. What strength, or what constancy of affection he might be subject to, was another point; but at present she could not doubt his having a decidedly warm admiration, a conscious preference of herself;
she must be a little in love with him, in spite of every previous determination against it.
had the ball taken place, she did not think Jane could have attended it;
she could not be very much in love; for in spite of her previous and fixed determination never to quit her father, never to marry, a strong attachment certainly must produce more of a struggle than she could foresee in her own feelings.
This, Emma could not doubt, was all for herself. Harriet was remembered only from being her friend.
she could still do without the writer, and
he must learn to do without her. Her intentions were unchanged.
Her resolution of refusal only grew more interesting by the addition of a scheme for his subsequent consolation and happiness. His recollection of Harriet, and the words which clothed it, the
Harriet's succeeding her in his affections.
Was it impossible?—No.—Harriet undoubtedly was greatly his inferior in understanding; but he had been very much struck with the loveliness of her face and the warm simplicity of her manner; and all the probabilities of circumstance and connexion were in her favour.—For Harriet, it would be advantageous and delightful indeed.
The idea of wanting gratitude and consideration for Miss Woodhouse,
not being the last to pay her respects;
She did not really like her. She would not be in a hurry to find fault, but she suspected that there was no elegance;—ease, but not elegance.—
for a young woman, a stranger, a bride, there was too much ease. Her person was rather good; her face not unpretty; but neither feature, nor air, nor voice, nor manner, were elegant. Emma thought at least it would turn out so.
As for Mr. Elton, his manners did not appear —but no, she would not permit a hasty or a witty word from herself about his manners. It was an awkward ceremony at any time to be receiving wedding visits, and a man had need be all grace to acquit himself well through it. The woman was better off; she might have the assistance of fine clothes, and the privilege of bashfulness, but the man had only his own good sense to depend on;