Austen Said:

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.

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

he was sorry for the disappointment of the others,

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.

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

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;

how peculiarly unlucky poor Mr. Elton was in being in the same room at once with the woman he had just married, the woman he had wanted to marry, and the woman whom he had been expected to marry, she must allow him to have the right to look as little wise, and to be as much affectedly, and as little really easy as could be.

Mrs. Elton was a vain woman, extremely well satisfied with herself, and thinking much of her own importance;

she meant to shine and be very superior, but with manners which had been formed in a bad school, pert and familiar;

all her notions were drawn from one set of people, and one style of living;

if not foolish she was ignorant, and

her society would certainly do Mr. Elton no good.

Harriet would have been a better match. If not wise or refined herself, she would have connected him with those who were; but Miss Hawkins, it might be fairly supposed from her easy conceit, had been the best of her own set. The rich brother-in-law near Bristol was the pride of the alliance, and his place and his carriages were the pride of him.

people who had extensive grounds themselves cared very little for the extensive grounds of any body else; but it was not worth while to attack an error so double-dyed,

The idea of her being indebted to Mrs. Elton for what was called an introduction —of her going into public under the auspices of a friend of Mrs. Elton's— probably some vulgar, dashing widow, who, with the help of a boarder, just made a shift to live!—The dignity of Miss Woodhouse, of Hartfield, was sunk indeed!

self-important, presuming, familiar, ignorant, and ill-bred. She had a little beauty and a little accomplishment, but so little judgment that she thought herself coming with superior knowledge of the world, to enliven and improve a country neighbourhood; and conceived Miss Hawkins to have held such a place in society as Mrs. Elton's consequence only could surpass.

it must rapidly work Harriet's cure; but the sensations which could prompt such behaviour sunk them both very much.—It was not to be doubted that poor Harriet's attachment had been an offering to conjugal unreserve, and her own share in the story, under a colouring the least favourable to her and the most soothing to him, had in all likelihood been given also.

She was, of course, the object of their joint dislike.—When they had nothing else to say, it must be always easy to begin abusing Miss Woodhouse; and the enmity which they dared not shew in open disrespect to her, found a broader vent in contemptuous treatment of Harriet.

the most amiable, affable, delightful woman— just as accomplished and condescending

She could not have believed it possible that the taste or the pride of Miss Fairfax could endure such society and friendship as the Vicarage had to offer.

Mrs. Dixon had written most pressingly.

Would Jane but go, means were to be found, servants sent, friends contrived— no travelling difficulty allowed to exist; but still she had declined it!

She was a little shocked at the want of two drawing rooms,

the poor attempt at rout-cakes, and there being no ice in the Highbury card-parties. Mrs. Bates, Mrs. Perry, Mrs. Goddard and others, were a good deal behind-hand in knowledge of the world, but she would soon shew them how every thing ought to be arranged. In the course of the spring she must return their civilities by one very superior party—in which her card-tables should be set out with their separate candles and unbroken packs in the true style—and more waiters engaged for the evening than their own establishment could furnish, to carry round the refreshments at exactly the proper hour, and in the proper order.

A dinner there must be.

not sitting at the bottom of the table himself,

Besides the Eltons, it must be the Westons and Mr. Knightley; so far it was all of course—and it was hardly less inevitable that poor little Harriet must be asked to make the eighth:—

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 —

it would be a ninth very much out of humour at not being able to come even to Hartfield for forty-eight hours without falling in with a dinner-party.

though he certainly would make them nine, yet he always said so little, that the increase of noise would be very immaterial.

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.

she had not caught any cold.