Austen Said:

it seemed to him as if, now he had no fortune, and no nothing at all, it would be quite unkind to keep her on to the engagement, because it must be for her loss, for he had nothing but two thousand pounds, and no hope of any thing else; and if he was to go into orders, as he had some thoughts, he could get nothing but a curacy, and how was they to live upon that?

if she had the least mind for it, to put an end to the matter directly, and leave him shift for himself.

Edward have got some business at Oxford,

it should never be, he did not regard his mother's anger, while he could have my affections;

the house was small and indifferent;

Delaford living could supply such an income, as anybody in his style of life would venture to settle on —

understanding you mean to take orders, he has great pleasure in offering you the living of Delaford now just vacant, and only wishes it were more valuable.

Edward reading prayers in a white surplice, and publishing the banns of marriage between John Smith and Mary Brown,

conceive nothing more ridiculous.

their travelling so far towards Barton without any expense, and on Colonel Brandon's being to follow them to Cleveland in a day or two,

he should see Marianne no more.

his patient materially better. Her pulse was much stronger, and every symptom more favourable than on the preceding visit.

entirely out of danger.

she has forgiven me already.

Marianne Dashwood was dying of a putrid fever at Cleveland — a letter that morning received from Mrs. Jennings declared her danger most imminent — the Palmers are all gone off in a fright,

an old promise about a pointer puppy.

perhaps, at first accidentally meeting, the vanity of the one had been so worked on by the flattery of the other, as to lead by degrees to all the rest.

a well-disposed, good-hearted girl, and thoroughly attached to himself.

not only to be better acquainted with him, but to have an opportunity of convincing him that he no longer resented his giving him the living of Delaford —

Mrs. Ferrars was the most unfortunate of women — poor Fanny had suffered agonies of sensibility —

Robert's offence was unpardonable, but Lucy's was infinitely worse. Neither of them were ever again to be mentioned to Mrs. Ferrars; and even, if she might hereafter be induced to forgive her son, his wife should never be acknowledged as her daughter, nor be permitted to appear in her presence. The secrecy with which everything had been carried on between them, was rationally treated as enormously heightening the crime, because, had any suspicion of it occurred to the others, proper measures would have been taken to prevent the marriage;

join with him in regretting that Lucy's engagement with Edward had not rather been fulfilled, than that she should thus be the means of spreading misery farther in the family. —