Austen Said:

he shewed a very amiable inclination to settle early in life, and to marry, from worthy motives. He might not be aware of the inroads on domestic peace to be occasioned by no housekeeper's room, or a bad butler's pantry, but no doubt he did perfectly feel that Enscombe could not make him happy, and that whenever he were attached, he would willingly give up much of wealth to be allowed an early establishment.

There was certainly no harm in his travelling sixteen miles twice over on such an errand; but there was an air of foppery and nonsense in it which she could not approve. It did not accord with the rationality of plan, the moderation in expense, or even the unselfish warmth of heart, which

to discern in him yesterday. Vanity, extravagance, love of change, restlessness of temper, which must be doing something, good or bad; heedlessness as to the pleasure of his father and Mrs. Weston, indifferent as to how his conduct might appear in general; he became liable to all these charges.

how attentive and pleasant a companion he made himself— how much she saw to like in his disposition altogether.

He appeared to have a very open temper— certainly a very cheerful and lively one; she could observe nothing wrong in his notions, a great deal decidedly right; he spoke of his uncle with warm regard, was fond of talking of him— said he would be the best man in the world if he were left to himself; and though there was no being attached to the aunt, he acknowledged her kindness with gratitude, and seemed to mean always to speak of her with respect.

Frank admired her extremely —thought her very beautiful and very charming;

The regular and best families

they would presume to invite— neither Donwell, nor Hartfield, nor Randalls. Nothing should tempt her to go, if they did; and she regretted that her father's known habits would be giving her refusal less meaning than she could wish. The Coles were very respectable in their way, but they ought to be taught that it was not for them to arrange the terms on which the superior families would visit them. This lesson, she very much feared, they would receive only from herself; she had little hope of Mr. Knightley, none of Mr. Weston.

she should like to have had the power of refusal;

she did not know that she might not have been tempted to accept.

Might not the evening end in a dance?

what they advised her to do,

considering every thing, she was not absolutely without inclination for the party. The Coles expressed themselves so properly— there was so much real attention in the manner of it —so much consideration for her father.

how certainly Mrs. Goddard, if not Mrs. Bates, might be depended on for bearing him company—

As for his going, Emma did not wish him to think it possible, the hours would be too late, and the party too numerous.

Mr. Cole never touches malt liquor.

if she came home cold, she would be sure to warm herself thoroughly; if hungry, that she would take something to eat; that her own maid should sit up for her; and that Serle and the butler should see that every thing were safe in the house, as usual.

she had been calling on Miss Bates, and as soon as she entered the room had been struck by the sight of a pianoforte— a very elegant looking instrument —not a grand, but a large-sized square pianoforte;

this pianoforte had arrived from Broadwood's the day before, to the great astonishment of both aunt and niece— entirely unexpected;

at first,

Jane herself was quite at a loss, quite bewildered to think who could possibly have ordered it— but now, they were both perfectly satisfied that it could be from only one quarter;—of course it must be from Colonel Campbell.

There she sat— and who would have guessed how many tears she had been lately shedding?

To be in company, nicely dressed herself and seeing others nicely dressed, to sit and smile and look pretty, and say nothing, was enough for the happiness of the present hour.

Jane Fairfax did look and move superior; but Emma suspected she might have been glad to change feelings with Harriet, very glad to have purchased the mortification of having loved— yes, of having loved even Mr. Elton in vain— by the surrender of all the dangerous pleasure of knowing herself beloved by the husband of her friend.

what every body present must be thinking. She was his object, and every body must perceive it.

he had been impatient to leave the dining-room— hated sitting long —was always the first to move when he could—

his father, Mr. Knightley, Mr. Cox, and Mr. Cole, were left very busy over parish business—

as long as he had staid, however, it had been pleasant enough, as he had found them in general a set of gentlemanlike, sensible men;

so abundant in agreeable families

the society in Yorkshire —the extent of the neighbourhood about Enscombe, and the sort;

as far as Enscombe was concerned, there was very little going on,

their visitings were among a range of great families, none very near; and

even when days were fixed, and invitations accepted, it was an even chance that Mrs. Churchill were not in health and spirits for going;

they made a point of visiting no fresh person; and

though he had his separate engagements, it was not without difficulty, without considerable address at times, that he could get away, or introduce an acquaintance for a night.

Enscombe could not satisfy, and

Highbury, taken at its best, might reasonably please a young man who had more retirement at home than he liked. His importance at Enscombe was very evident. He did not boast, but it naturally betrayed itself, that he had persuaded his aunt where his uncle could do nothing,

he believed (excepting one or two points) he could with time persuade her to any thing.

He had wanted very much to go abroad—— had been very eager indeed to be allowed to travel—— but she would not hear of it. This had happened the year before. Now,

he was beginning to have no longer the same wish.

'Nobody was ever so fortunate as herself!'

'there was no occasion to trouble us, for Mr. Knightley's carriage had brought, and was to take them home again.'

'So very kind and obliging!—But he always had been such a very kind neighbour!'

'Not that it was such a very old petticoat either—for still it would last a great while—and, indeed, she must thankfully say that their petticoats were all very strong.'"

he could listen to her for ever.

he knew nothing of the matter, and had no voice at all,

She could see nothing but evil in it.

It would be a great disappointment to Mr. John Knightley; consequently to Isabella. A real injury to the children— a most mortifying change, and material loss to them all;—a very great deduction from her father's daily comfort—and, as to herself, she could not at all endure the idea of Jane Fairfax at Donwell Abbey. A Mrs. Knightley for them all to give way to!—No —Mr. Knightley must never marry. Little Henry must remain the heir of Donwell.

This would be a trial. He was no dancer in general. If he were to be very alert in engaging Jane Fairfax now, it might augur something. There was no immediate appearance. No; he was talking to Mrs. Cole— he was looking on unconcerned; Jane was asked by somebody else, and he was still talking to Mrs. Cole.

She must have delighted the Coles— worthy people, who deserved to be made happy!—And left a name behind her that would not soon die away.