Austen Said:

of their having just resolved to follow their brother to town directly,

of their meaning to dine that day in Grosvenor Street, where Mr. Hurst had a house.

“I do not pretend to regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society, my dearest friend; but we will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many returns of that delightful intercourse we have known, and in the meanwhile may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that.”

“When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which took him to London might be concluded in three or four days; but as we are certain it cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that when Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintances are already there for the winter; I wish that I could hear that you, my dearest friend, had any intention of making one of the crowd — but of that I despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in the gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your beaux will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three of whom we shall deprive you.”

“Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister; and, to confess the truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still more interesting, from the hope we dare to entertain of her being hereafter our sister. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to you my feelings on this subject; but I will not leave the country without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already; he will have frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing; her relations all wish the connection as much as his own; and a sister's partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most capable of engaging any woman's heart. With all these circumstances to favour an attachment, and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of so many?”

her satisfaction in being useful,

it amply repaid her for the little sacrifice of her time.

Mr. Collins, to be sure, was neither sensible nor agreeable; his society was irksome, and his attachment to her must be imaginary. But still he would be her husband.

Elizabeth would wonder, and probably would blame her; and though her resolution was not to be shaken, her feelings must be hurt by such a disapprobation.

to drop no hint of what had passed before any of the family.

“Why should you be surprised, my dear Eliza? Do you think it incredible that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman's good opinion, because he was not so happy as to succeed with you?”

“I see what you are feeling,”

“You must be surprised, very much surprised — so lately as Mr. Collins was wishing to marry you. But when you have had time to think it all over, I hope you will be satisfied with what I have done. I am not romantic, you know; I never was. I ask only a comfortable home; and considering Mr. Collins's character, connection, and situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state.”

their being all settled in London for the winter,

“I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Eliza.”

“And I have another favour to ask you. Will you come and see me?”

“I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise me, therefore, to come to Hunsford.”

“My father and Maria are coming to me in March,”

“and I hope you will consent to be of the party. Indeed, Eliza, you will be as welcome to me as either of them.”

“Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible woman indeed,”

“and a most attentive neighbour.”

“Oh, my dear Eliza! pray make haste and come into the dining-room, for there is such a sight to be seen! I will not tell you what it is. Make haste, and come down this moment.”

“La! my dear,”

“it is not Lady Catherine. The old lady is Mrs. Jenkinson, who lives with them; the other is Miss de Bourgh. Only look at her. She is quite a little creature. Who would have thought that she could be so thin and small?”

“Oh,

Charlotte says

letting them know that the whole party was asked to dine at Rosings the next day.

what an honour they might expect,

“What can be the meaning of this ?”

“My dear, Eliza, he must be in love with you, or he would never have called on us in this familiar way.”

He certainly looked at her friend a great deal, but the expression of that look was disputable. It was an earnest, stedfast gaze,

whether there were much admiration in it, and sometimes it seemed nothing but absence of mind.

it admitted not of a doubt,

all her friend's dislike would vanish, if she could suppose him to be in her power.

He was beyond comparison the most pleasant man; he certainly admired her, and his situation in life was most eligible; but, to counterbalance these advantages, Mr. Darcy had considerable patronage in the church, and his cousin could have none at all.

the two gentlemen from Rosings had each called during her absence; Mr. Darcy, only for a few minutes, to take leave — but that Colonel Fitzwilliam had been sitting with them at least an hour, hoping for her return, and almost resolving to walk after her till she could be found.

“Good gracious!”

“it seems but a day or two since we first came! and yet how many things have happened!”

“Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the ——shire Militia removed from Meryton? They must be a great loss to your family.”

“How very ill Miss Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy,”

“I never in my life saw anyone so much altered as she is since the winter. She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that we should not have known her again.”

“For my own part,”

“I must confess that I never could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character — there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I could never see anything extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all; and in her air altogether there is a self-sufficiency without fashion, which is intolerable.”

“I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, 'She a beauty! — I should as soon call her mother a wit.' But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time.”

“I saw you look at me to-day, Lizzy, when my aunt told us of the present report; and I know I appeared distressed. But don't imagine it was from any silly cause. I was only confused for the moment, because I felt that I should be looked at. I do assure you that the news does not affect me either with pleasure or pain. I am glad of one thing, that he comes alone; because we shall see the less of him. Not that I am afraid of myself, but I dread other people's remarks.”

“The men shan't come and part us, I am determined. We want none of them; do we?”

“It has been a very agreeable day,”

“The party seemed so well selected, so suitable one with the other. I hope we may often meet again.”

being still quite as handsome as ever,

her approach to the years of danger,