Austen Said:

"Ha!"

"settle in Northamptonshire! That is pleasant! Then we shall be all together."

"You will divide your year between London and Northamptonshire?"

"That's right; and in London, of course, a house of your own: no longer with the Admiral. My dearest Henry, the advantage to you of getting away from the Admiral before your manners are hurt by the contagion of his, before you have contracted any of his foolish opinions, or learned to sit over your dinner as if it were the best blessing of life! You are not sensible of the gain, for your regard for him has blinded you; but, in my estimation, your marrying early may be the saving of you. To have seen you grow like the Admiral in word or deed, look or gesture, would have broken my heart."

"Henry, I think so highly of Fanny Price, that if I could suppose the next Mrs. Crawford would have half the reason which my poor ill-used aunt had to abhor the very name, I would prevent the marriage, if possible; but I know you: I know that a wife you loved would be the happiest of women, and that even when you ceased to love, she would yet find in you the liberality and good-breeding of a gentleman."

"My dearest Henry,"

"how glad I am to see you so much in love! It quite delights me. But what will Mrs. Rushworth and Julia say?"

"Nay, Henry, not by all; not forgotten by all; not friendless or forgotten. Her cousin Edmund never forgets her."

"Has this been all your doing, then?"

"Good heaven! how very, very kind! Have you really— was it by your desire? I beg your pardon, but I am bewildered. Did Admiral Crawford apply? How was it? I am stupefied."

"How kind! how very kind! Oh, Mr. Crawford, we are infinitely obliged to you! Dearest, dearest William!"

"I will go to my uncle. My uncle ought to know it as soon as possible."

"Don't, Mr. Crawford, pray don't! I beg you would not. This is a sort of talking which is very unpleasant to me. I must go away. I cannot bear it."

"No, no, no!"

"This is all nonsense. Do not distress me. I can hear no more of this. Your kindness to William makes me more obliged to you than words can express; but I do not want, I cannot bear, I must not listen to such— No, no, don't think of me. But you are not thinking of me. I know it is all nothing."

"My dear Fanny,—for so I may now always call you, to the infinite relief of a tongue that has been stumbling at Miss Price for at least the last six weeks— I cannot let my brother go without sending you a few lines of general congratulation, and giving my most joyful consent and approval. Go on, my dear Fanny, and without fear; there can be no difficulties worth naming. I chuse to suppose that the assurance of my consent will be something; so you may smile upon him with your sweetest smiles this afternoon, and send him back to me even happier than he goes.—Yours affectionately, M. C."

"Oh yes! certainly,"

"I will write directly."

"I am very much obliged to you, my dear Miss Crawford, for your kind congratulations, as far as they relate to my dearest William. The rest of your note I know means nothing; but I am so unequal to anything of the sort, that I hope you will excuse my begging you to take no farther notice. I have seen too much of Mr. Crawford not to understand his manners; if he understood me as well, he would, I dare say, behave differently. I do not know what I write, but it would be a great favour of you never to mention the subject again. With thanks for the honour of your note, I remain, dear Miss Crawford, etc., etc."

"Oh! I thank you; I have quite done, just done; it will be ready in a moment; I am very much obliged to you; if you will be so good as to give that to Miss Crawford."

"I am not cold, sir: I never sit here long at this time of year."

"No, sir."

"Oh! no, sir, I cannot, indeed I cannot go down to him. Mr. Crawford ought to know —he must know that: I told him enough yesterday to convince him; he spoke to me on this subject yesterday, and I told him without disguise that it was very disagreeable to me, and quite out of my power to return his good opinion."

"You are mistaken, sir,"

"you are quite mistaken. How could Mr. Crawford say such a thing? I gave him no encouragement yesterday. On the contrary, I told him, I cannot recollect my exact words, but I am sure I told him that I would not listen to him, that it was very unpleasant to me in every respect, and that I begged him never to talk to me in that manner again. I am sure I said as much as that and more; and I should have said still more, if I had been quite certain of his meaning anything seriously; but I did not like to be, I could not bear to be, imputing more than might be intended. I thought it might all pass for nothing with him."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir."

"I— I cannot like him, sir, well enough to marry him."

"Yes,"

"Oh yes, sir! indeed I do. His attentions were always—what I did not like."

"Yes, sir."

"No, sir."

"But of his principles I have";

"I am very sorry,"

"I am very sorry indeed."

"If it were possible for me to do otherwise"

"but I am so perfectly convinced that I could never make him happy, and that I should be miserable myself."

"I must be a brute, indeed, if I can be really ungrateful!"

"Heaven defend me from being ungrateful!"

"Indeed, sir,"

"I am very sorry that Mr. Crawford should continue to know that it is paying me a very great compliment, and I feel most undeservedly honoured; but I am so perfectly convinced, and I have told him so, that it never will be in my power —"

"My dear aunt, you cannot wish me to do differently from what I have done, I am sure. You cannot wish me to marry; for you would miss me, should not you? Yes, I am sure you would miss me too much for that."

"No,"

"No, indeed, you know your duty too well for me to— even supposing —"

"Pray, sir, don't; pray, Mr. Crawford,"

"How can you, sir? You quite astonish me; I wonder how you can—"

"Perhaps, sir,"

"perhaps, sir, I thought it was a pity you did not always know yourself as well as you seemed to do at that moment."

"If you hear of it from everybody, cousin, there can be nothing for me to tell."

"I am afraid we think too differently for me to find any relief in talking of what I feel."