Austen Said:

all were well in Brunswick Square.

he had been out of doors to examine, and could answer for there not being the smallest difficulty in their getting home, whenever they liked it, either now or an hour hence. He had gone beyond the sweep—some way along the Highbury road —the snow was nowhere above half an inch deep— in many places hardly enough to whiten the ground; a very few flakes were falling at present, but the clouds were parting, and there was every appearance of its being soon over. He had seen the coachmen, and they both agreed with him in there being nothing to apprehend.

it was because she saw in her the really accomplished young woman, which she wanted to be thought herself;

He was very much pleased with Randalls,

a most admirably arranged house,

even to be very small,

the situation, the walk to Highbury, Highbury itself, Hartfield still more, and

to have always felt the sort of interest in the country which none but one's own country gives, and the greatest curiosity to visit it.

No, it was long enough, broad enough, handsome enough. It would hold the very number for comfort. They ought to have balls there at least every fortnight through the winter. Why had not Miss Woodhouse revived the former good old days of the room?—She who could do any thing in Highbury! The want of proper families in the place, and the conviction that none beyond the place and its immediate environs could be tempted to attend, were mentioned; but he was not satisfied.

could not be persuaded that so many good-looking houses as he saw around him, could not furnish numbers enough for such a meeting;

he had heard many people say the same—but yet he must confess, that to him nothing could make amends for the want of the fine glow of health. Where features were indifferent, a fine complexion gave beauty to them all; and where they were good, the effect was— fortunately he need not attempt to describe what the effect was.

No, he could not believe it a bad house; not such a house as a man was to be pitied for having. If it were to be shared with the woman he loved, he could not think any man to be pitied for having that house. There must be ample room in it for every real comfort. The man must be a blockhead who wanted more.

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

Might not the evening end in a dance?

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

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.

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.

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

to play something more.

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

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

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

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.

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

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;

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;

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.

He could not understand it; but there were symptoms of intelligence between them— he thought so at least —symptoms of admiration on his side, which, having once observed, he could not persuade himself to think entirely void of meaning, however he might wish to escape any of Emma's errors of imagination.

there being a something of private liking, of private understanding even, between Frank Churchill and Jane.

How the delicacy, the discretion of his favourite could have been so lain asleep!

He feared there must be some decided involvement. Disingenuousness and double dealing

at every turn. These letters were but the vehicle for gallantry and trick. It was a child's play, chosen to conceal a deeper game on Frank Churchill's part.