Austen Said:

"I am come to make my own apologies for keeping you waiting; but I have nothing in the world to say for myself— I knew it was very late, and that I was behaving extremely ill; and therefore, if you please, you must forgive me. Selfishness must always be forgiven, you know, because there is no hope of a cure."

"No part of it fatigues me but getting off this horse, I assure you,"

"I am very strong. Nothing ever fatigues me but doing what I do not like. Miss Price, I give way to you with a very bad grace; but I sincerely hope you will have a pleasant ride, and that I may have nothing but good to hear of this dear, delightful, beautiful animal."

"I was sure she would ride well,"

"she has the make for it. Her figure is as neat as her brother's."

"Yes,"

"and her spirits are as good, and she has the same energy of character. I cannot but think that good horsemanship has a great deal to do with the mind."

"I must say, ma'am, that Fanny is as little upon the sofa as anybody in the house."

"What!"

"go boxed up three in a postchaise in this weather, when we may have seats in a barouche! No, my dear Edmund, that will not quite do."

"Besides,"

"I know that Mr. Crawford depends upon taking us. After what passed at first, he would claim it as a promise."

"That would not be a very handsome reason for using Mr. Crawford's,"

"but the truth is, that Wilcox is a stupid old fellow, and does not know how to drive. I will answer for it that we shall find no inconvenience from narrow roads on Wednesday."

"Unpleasant!"

"oh dear! I believe it would be generally thought the favourite seat. There can be no comparison as to one's view of the country. Probably Miss Crawford will choose the barouche-box herself."

"It seems very odd,"

"that you should be staying at home instead of Fanny."

"I am sure she ought to be very much obliged to you,"

"her view of the country was charming, she wished they could all see it,"

"Here is a fine burst of country. I wish you had my seat, but I dare say you will not take it, let me press you ever so much;"

"those woods belonged to Sotherton,"

"she believed that it was now all Mr. Rushworth's property on each side of the road,"

"Yes, it is exactly behind the house; begins at a little distance, and ascends for half a mile to the extremity of the grounds. You may see something of it here— something of the more distant trees. It is oak entirely."

"Every generation has its improvements,"

"Very fine indeed,"

"It must do the heads of the family a great deal of good to force all the poor housemaids and footmen to leave business and pleasure, and say their prayers here twice a day, while they are inventing excuses themselves for staying away."

"At any rate, it is safer to leave people to their own devices on such subjects. Everybody likes to go their own way— to chuse their own time and manner of devotion. The obligation of attendance, the formality, the restraint, the length of time— altogether it is a formidable thing, and what nobody likes; and if the good people who used to kneel and gape in that gallery could have foreseen that the time would ever come when men and women might lie another ten minutes in bed, when they woke with a headache, without danger of reprobation, because chapel was missed, they would have jumped with joy and envy. Cannot you imagine with what unwilling feelings the former belles of the house of Rushworth did many a time repair to this chapel? The young Mrs. Eleanors and Mrs. Bridgets— starched up into seeming piety, but with heads full of something very different— especially if the poor chaplain were not worth looking at— and, in those days, I fancy parsons were very inferior even to what they are now."

"Yes, very likely. They would have two chances at least in their favour. There would be less to distract the attention from without, and it would not be tried so long."

"Do look at Mr. Rushworth and Maria, standing side by side, exactly as if the ceremony were going to be performed. Have not they completely the air of it?"

"If he would give her away?"

"Upon my word, it is really a pity that it should not take place directly, if we had but a proper licence, for here we are altogether, and nothing in the world could be more snug and pleasant."

"If Edmund were but in orders!"

"My dear Edmund, if you were but in orders now, you might perform the ceremony directly. How unlucky that you are not ordained; Mr. Rushworth and Maria are quite ready."

"Ordained!"

"what, are you to be a clergyman?"

"If I had known this before, I would have spoken of the cloth with more respect,"

"For if,"

"we are too long going over the house, we shall not have time for what is to be done out of doors. It is past two, and we are to dine at five."

"This is insufferably hot,"

"Shall any of us object to being comfortable? Here is a nice little wood, if one can but get into it. What happiness if the door should not be locked! but of course it is; for in these great places the gardeners are the only people who can go where they like."

"So you are to be a clergyman, Mr. Bertram. This is rather a surprise to me."

"Very true; but, in short, it had not occurred to me. And you know there is generally an uncle or a grandfather to leave a fortune to the second son."

"But why are you to be a clergyman? I thought that was always the lot of the youngest, where there were many to chuse before him."

"Never is a black word. But yes, in the never of conversation, which means not very often, I do think it. For what is to be done in the church? Men love to distinguish themselves, and in either of the other lines distinction may be gained, but not in the church. A clergyman is nothing."

"You assign greater consequence to the clergyman than one has been used to hear given, or than I can quite comprehend. One does not see much of this influence and importance in society, and how can it be acquired where they are so seldom seen themselves? How can two sermons a week, even supposing them worth hearing, supposing the preacher to have the sense to prefer Blair's to his own, do all that you speak of? govern the conduct and fashion the manners of a large congregation for the rest of the week? One scarcely sees a clergyman out of his pulpit."

"The metropolis, I imagine, is a pretty fair sample of the rest."

"There,"

"you have quite convinced Miss Price already."

"I do not think you ever will,"