Austen Said:

"Elinor, I have been cruelly used; but not by Willoughby."

"Dearest Marianne, who but himself? By whom can he have been instigated?"

"By all the world, rather than by his own heart. I could rather believe every creature of my acquaintance leagued together to ruin me in his opinion, than believe his nature capable of such cruelty. This woman of whom he writes — whoever she be — or any one, in short, but your own dear self, mama, and Edward, may have been so barbarous to bely me. Beyond you three, is there a creature in the world whom I would not rather suspect of evil than Willoughby, whose heart I know so well?"

"Whoever may have been so detestably your enemy, let them be cheated of their malignant triumph, my dear sister, by seeing how nobly the consciousness of your own innocence and good intentions supports your spirits. It is a reasonable and laudable pride which resists such malevolence."

"No, no,"

"misery such as mine has no pride. I care not who knows that I am wretched. The triumph of seeing me so may be open to all the world. Elinor, Elinor, they who suffer little may be proud and independent as they like — may resist insult, or return mortification — but I cannot. I must feel — I must be wretched — and they are welcome to enjoy the consciousness of it that can."

"But for my mother's sake and mine — "

"I would do more than for my own. But to appear happy when I am so miserable — Oh! who can require it?"

"It is too much! Oh, Willoughby, Willoughby, could this be yours! Cruel, cruel — nothing can acquit you. Elinor, nothing can. Whatever he might have heard against me — ought he not to have suspended his belief? ought he not to have told me of it, to have given me the power of clearing myself?

— That is unpardonable. Willoughby, where was your heart when you wrote those words? Oh, barbarously insolent! — Elinor, can he be justified?"

"No, Marianne, in no possible way."

"And yet this woman — who knows what her art may have been? — how long it may have been premeditated, and how deeply contrived by her! — Who is she? — Who can she be? — Whom did I ever hear him talk of as young and attractive among his female acquaintance? — Oh! no one, no one — he talked to me only of myself."

"Elinor, I must go home. I must go and comfort mama. Can not we be gone to-morrow?"

"To-morrow, Marianne!"

"Yes, why should I stay here? I came only for Willoughby's sake — and now who cares for me? Who regards me?"

"It would be impossible to go to-morrow. We owe Mrs. Jennings much more than civility; and civility of the commonest kind must prevent such a hasty removal as that."

"Well then, another day or two, perhaps; but I cannot stay here long, I cannot stay to endure the questions and remarks of all these people. The Middletons and Palmers — how am I to bear their pity? The pity of such a woman as Lady Middleton! Oh, what would HE say to that!"

"no, she would go down; she could bear it very well, and the bustle about her would be less."

"The lady then — Miss Grey I think you called her — is very rich?"

"Do you know what kind of a girl Miss Grey is? Is she said to be amiable?"

"And who are the Ellisons?"

"Dear ma'am, this kindness is quite unnecessary. Marianne, I dare say, will not leave her room again this evening. I shall persuade her if I can to go early to bed, for I am sure she wants rest."

"It would be unnecessary I am sure, for you to caution Mrs. Palmer and Sir John against ever naming Mr. Willoughby, or making the slightest allusion to what has passed, before my sister. Their own good-nature must point out to them the real cruelty of appearing to know any thing about it when she is present; and the less that may ever be said to myself on the subject, the more my feelings will be spared, as you my dear madam will easily believe."

"In this affair it can only do harm; more so perhaps than in many cases of a similar kind, for it has been attended by circumstances which, for the sake of every one concerned in it, make it unfit to become the public conversation. I must do THIS justice to Mr. Willoughby — he has broken no positive engagement with my sister."

No positive engagement

"Ay, if we can do THAT, Ma'am,"

"we shall do very well with or without Colonel Brandon."

"You had better leave me,"

"I will leave you,"

"if you will go to bed."

"Dear Ma'am,"

"how good you are! But I have just left Marianne in bed, and, I hope, almost asleep; and as I think nothing will be of so much service to her as rest, if you will give me leave, I will drink the wine myself."

though its effects on a colicky gout were, at present, of little importance to her, its healing powers, on a disappointed heart might be as reasonably tried on herself as on her sister.

"Marianne is not well,"

"She has been indisposed all day, and we have persuaded her to go to bed."

"What did you hear?"

"You mean,"

"Mr. Willoughby's marriage with Miss Grey. Yes, we DO know it all. This seems to have been a day of general elucidation, for this very morning first unfolded it to us. Mr. Willoughby is unfathomable! Where did you hear it?"

"It is. But have you likewise heard that Miss Grey has fifty thousand pounds? In that, if in any thing, we may find an explanation."

"Her sufferings have been very severe. I have only to hope that they may be proportionately short. It has been, it is a most cruel affliction. Till yesterday, I believe, she never doubted his regard; and even now, perhaps — but I am almost convinced that he never was really attached to her. He has been very deceitful! and, in some points, there seems a hardness of heart about him."

"You know her disposition, and may believe how eagerly she would still justify him if she could."

"No, no, no, it cannot be,"

"she cannot feel. Her kindness is not sympathy; her good-nature is not tenderness. All that she wants is gossip, and she only likes me now because I supply it."

"Who can this be?"

"So early too! I thought we HAD been safe."

"It is Colonel Brandon!"

"We are never safe from HIM."

"He will not come in, as Mrs. Jennings is from home."

"I will not trust to THAT,"

"A man who has nothing to do with his own time has no conscience in his intrusion on that of others."