Austen Said:

"When I wear this necklace I shall always think of you,"

"and feel how very kind you were."

To take what had been the gift of another person, of a brother too, impossible! it must not be!

He evidently tried to please her: he was gallant, he was attentive, he was something like what he had been to her cousins: he wanted, she supposed, to cheat her of her tranquillity as he had cheated them; and whether he might not have some concern in this necklace— she could not be convinced that he had not,

for Miss Crawford, complaisant as a sister, was careless as a woman and a friend.

"Oh! cousin, stop a moment, pray stop!"

"I cannot attempt to thank you,"

"thanks are out of the question. I feel much more than I can possibly express. Your goodness in thinking of me in such a way is beyond—"

"No, no, it is not. I want to consult you."

"Oh, this is beautiful indeed! This is the very thing, precisely what I wished for! This is the only ornament I have ever had a desire to possess. It will exactly suit my cross. They must and shall be worn together. It comes, too, in such an acceptable moment. Oh, cousin, you do not know how acceptable it is."

Fanny could not but admit the superior power of one pleasure over his own mind, though it might have its drawback.

"If it had been given to me in the first instance,"

"I should not have thought of returning it; but being her brother's present, is not it fair to suppose that she would rather not part with it, when it is not wanted?"

"No, it is not handsomer, not at all handsomer in its way, and, for my purpose, not half so fit. The chain will agree with William's cross beyond all comparison better than the necklace."

She was one of his two dearest— that must support her.

But the other: the first!

She had never heard him speak so openly before, and though it told her no more than what she had long perceived, it was a stab, for it told of his own convictions and views.

They were decided. He would marry Miss Crawford.

she was one of his two dearest,

Could she believe Miss Crawford to deserve him, it would be— oh, how different would it be —how far more tolerable! But he was deceived in her: he gave her merits which she had not; her faults were what they had ever been, but he saw them no longer.

To call or to fancy it a loss, a disappointment, would be a presumption for which she had not words strong enough to satisfy her own humility.

To think of him as Miss Crawford might be justified in thinking, would in her be insanity. To her he could be nothing under any circumstances; nothing dearer than a friend. Why did such an idea occur to her even enough to be reprobated and forbidden? It ought not to have touched on the confines of her imagination. She would endeavour to be rational, and to deserve the right of judging of Miss Crawford's character, and the privilege of true solicitude for him by a sound intellect and an honest heart.

for the original plan was that William should go up by the mail from Northampton the following night, which would not have allowed him an hour's rest before he must have got into a Portsmouth coach; and though this offer of Mr. Crawford's would rob her of many hours of his company, she was too happy in having William spared from the fatigue of such a journey,

To dance without much observation or any extraordinary fatigue, to have strength and partners for about half the evening, to dance a little with Edmund, and not a great deal with Mr. Crawford, to see William enjoy himself, and be able to keep away from her aunt Norris,

it had been about the same hour that she had returned from the Parsonage, and found Edmund in the East room.

"Suppose I were to find him there again to-day!"

"No, I have not been out at all."

he had soon ceased to think of her countenance. He did not appear in spirits: something unconnected with her was probably amiss.

"I am very sorry that anything has occurred to distress you. This ought to be a day of pleasure. My uncle meant it so."

"The effect of education,"

"If you only want me as a listener, cousin, I will be as useful as I can; but I am not qualified for an adviser. Do not ask advice of me. I am not competent."

"One thing more. Excuse the liberty; but take care how you talk to me. Do not tell me anything now, which hereafter you may be sorry for. The time may come—

The ball, too such an evening of pleasure before her!

those dearest tokens

Miss Crawford had a claim; and when it was no longer to encroach on, to interfere with the stronger claims, the truer kindness of another, she could do her justice even with pleasure to herself.

The necklace really looked very well;

very charming,

She looked all loveliness—and what might not be the end of it?

if Mr. Crawford had not asked her, she must have been the last to be sought after, and should have received a partner only through a series of inquiry, and bustle, and interference, which would have been terrible;

having a partner, a voluntary partner, secured against the dancing began.

"Yes, sir; to Mr. Crawford,"

she was to lead the way and open the ball;

that she hoped it might be settled otherwise;

To be placed above so many elegant young women! The distinction was too great. It was treating her like her cousins!

they were not at home to take their own place in the room, and have their share of a pleasure which would have been so very delightful to them.

So often as she had heard them wish for a ball at home as the greatest of all felicities! And to have them away when it was given—and for her to be opening the ball— and with Mr. Crawford too!

they would not envy her that distinction now

to what they had all been to each other when once dancing in that house before,

much rather not have been asked by him again so very soon,

she had not been obliged to suspect that his previous inquiries of Mrs. Norris, about the supper hour, were all for the sake of securing her at that part of the evening.