Austen Said:

"Upon my word,"

"you amuse me! I should like to know how many of all my numerous engagements take place without your being of the party; and why I am to be supposed in danger of wanting leisure to attend to the little boys. These amazing engagements of mine—what have they been? Dining once with the Coles—and having a ball talked of, which never took place. I can understand you—

your good fortune in meeting with so many of your friends at once here, delights you too much to pass unnoticed. But you,

who know how very, very seldom I am ever two hours from Hartfield, why you should foresee such a series of dissipation for me, I cannot imagine. And as to my dear little boys, I must say, that if Aunt Emma has not time for them, I do not think they would fare much better with Uncle Knightley, who is absent from home about five hours where she is absent one—and who, when he is at home, is either reading to himself or settling his accounts."

it was not for herself she was feeling at all apprehensive or embarrassed; it was for him. Her own attachment had really subsided into a mere nothing; it was not worth thinking of;—but if he, who had undoubtedly been always so much the most in love of the two, were to be returning with the same warmth of sentiment which he had taken away, it would be very distressing. If a separation of two months should not have cooled him, there were dangers and evils before her:—caution for him and for herself would be necessary. She did not mean to have her own affections entangled again, and it would be incumbent on her to avoid any encouragement of his.

she might be able to keep him from an absolute declaration. That would be so very painful a conclusion of their present acquaintance!

It was a clear thing he was less in love than he had been. Absence, with the conviction probably of her indifference, had produced this very natural and very desirable effect.

She had no doubt as to his being less in love—but neither his agitated spirits, nor his hurrying away, seemed like a perfect cure; and she was rather inclined to think it implied a dread of her returning power, and a discreet resolution of not trusting himself with her long.

"So unreasonably early!"

She liked his open manners, but a little less of open-heartedness would have made him a higher character.—General benevolence, but not general friendship, made a man what he ought to be.—She could fancy such a man.

what Frank's first opinion of Mrs. Elton might be; how he was affected by the studied elegance of her dress, and her smiles of graciousness.

"How do you like Mrs. Elton?"

"You are ungrateful."

It was almost enough to make her think of marrying.

There he was, among the standers-by, where he ought not to be; he ought to be dancing,—not classing himself with the husbands, and fathers, and whist-players, who were pretending to feel an interest in the dance till their rubbers were made up —so young as he looked!—He could not have appeared to greater advantage perhaps anywhere, than where he had placed himself.

His tall, firm, upright figure, among the bulky forms and stooping shoulders of the elderly men, was such as Emma felt must draw every body's eyes;

excepting her own partner, there was not one among the whole row of young men who could be compared with him.—

He moved a few steps nearer, and those few steps were enough to prove in how gentlemanlike a manner, with what natural grace, he must have danced, would he but take the trouble.—

he could love a ballroom better, and could like Frank Churchill better.—

She must not flatter herself that he thought of her dancing, but if he were criticising her behaviour, she did not feel afraid. There was nothing like flirtation between her and her partner. They seemed more like cheerful, easy friends, than lovers. That Frank Churchill thought less of her than he had done, was indubitable.

the only young lady sitting down;—

how there could be any one disengaged

He would not ask Harriet to dance if it were possible to be avoided: she was sure he would not—

This was Mr. Elton! the amiable, obliging, gentle Mr. Elton.—

She did not think he was quite so hardened as his wife, though growing very like her;—

"Knightley has taken pity on poor little Miss Smith!—Very good-natured, I declare."

"I did,"

"and they cannot forgive me."

"Can you trust me with such flatterers?—Does my vain spirit ever tell me I am wrong?"

"I do own myself to have been completely mistaken in Mr. Elton. There is a littleness about him which you discovered, and which I did not: and I was fully convinced of his being in love with Harriet. It was through a series of strange blunders!"

"I am ready,"

"whenever I am wanted."

"With you, if you will ask me."

"Indeed I will. You have shewn that you can dance, and you know we are not really so much brother and sister as to make it at all improper."

they had come to so good an understanding respecting the Eltons, and

their opinions of both husband and wife were so much alike;

Harriet rational, Frank Churchill not too much in love, and Mr. Knightley not wanting to quarrel with her, how very happy a summer must be before her!

Frank Churchill, with Harriet leaning on his arm —actually Harriet!—

there being such a set of people in the neighbourhood to Mr. Knightley,

Such an adventure as this,—a fine young man and a lovely young woman thrown together in such a way, could hardly fail of suggesting certain ideas to the coldest heart and the steadiest brain.

Could a linguist, could a grammarian, could even a mathematician have seen what she did, have witnessed their appearance together, and heard their history of it, without feeling that circumstances had been at work to make them peculiarly interesting to each other?—How much more must an imaginist, like herself, be on fire with speculation and foresight!—

It was a very extraordinary thing! Nothing of the sort had ever occurred before to any young ladies in the place, within her memory; no rencontre, no alarm of the kind;—and now it had happened to the very person, and at the very hour, when the other very person was chancing to pass by to rescue her!—It certainly was very extraordinary!—

He was wishing to get the better of his attachment to herself, she just recovering from her mania for Mr. Elton. It seemed as if every thing united to promise the most interesting consequences. It was not possible that the occurrence should not be strongly recommending each to the other.

Every thing was to take its natural course, however, neither impelled nor assisted. She would not stir a step, nor drop a hint. No, she had had enough of interference. There could be no harm in a scheme, a mere passive scheme. It was no more than a wish. Beyond it she would on no account proceed.

Henry and John were still asking every day for

"Yes,"

"I hope I do."

"Not the least in the world.—Did he ever give you any thing?"

"No, indeed I do not."

"My dearest Harriet!"