Austen Said:

"No, not now, I thank you. I could not stay two minutes. I must get on to Kingston as fast as I can."

"No, no; your room is full enough. I will call another day, and hear the pianoforte."

"Oh! very delightful indeed; I can say nothing less, for I suppose Miss Woodhouse and Mr. Frank Churchill are hearing every thing that passes. And

I do not see why Miss Fairfax should not be mentioned too. I think Miss Fairfax dances very well; and Mrs. Weston is the very best country-dance player, without exception, in England. Now, if your friends have any gratitude, they will say something pretty loud about you and me in return; but I cannot stay to hear it."

"What is the matter now?"

"You and Miss Smith, and Miss Fairfax, will be three, and the two Miss Coxes five,"

"And there will be the two Gilberts, young Cox, my father, and myself, besides Mr. Knightley. Yes, that will be quite enough for pleasure. You and Miss Smith, and Miss Fairfax, will be three, and the two Miss Coxes five; and for five couple there will be plenty of room."

"Might not they use both rooms, and dance across the passage?"

"We were too magnificent,"

"We allowed unnecessary room. Ten couple may stand here very well."

"It would be a crowd —a sad crowd; and what could be worse than dancing without space to turn in?"

"Very true,"

"it was very bad."

"I think there will be very tolerable room for ten couple."

"No, no,"

"you are quite unreasonable. It would be dreadful to be standing so close! Nothing can be farther from pleasure than to be dancing in a crowd— and a crowd in a little room!"

"There is no denying it,"

"I agree with you exactly. A crowd in a little room— Miss Woodhouse, you have the art of giving pictures in a few words. Exquisite, quite exquisite!—Still, however, having proceeded so far, one is unwilling to give the matter up. It would be a disappointment to my father—and altogether— I do not know that— I am rather of opinion that ten couple might stand here very well."

"Well, Miss Woodhouse,"

"your inclination for dancing has not been quite frightened away, I hope, by the terrors of my father's little rooms. I bring a new proposal on the subject:—a thought of my father's, which waits only your approbation to be acted upon. May I hope for the honour of your hand for the two first dances of this little projected ball, to be given, not at Randalls, but at the Crown Inn?"

"The Crown!"

"Yes; if you and Mr. Woodhouse see no objection, and I trust you cannot,

my father hopes

It is his own idea.

Mrs. Weston sees

This is what we all feel. Oh! you were perfectly right! Ten couple, in either of the Randalls rooms, would have been insufferable!—Dreadful!—I felt how right you were the whole time, but was too anxious for securing any thing to like to yield. Is not it a good exchange?—You consent— I hope you consent?"

"It appears to me a plan that nobody can object to, if Mr. and Mrs. Weston do not. I think it admirable; and, as far as I can answer for myself, shall be most happy— It seems the only improvement that could be. Papa, do you not think it an excellent improvement?"

"I was going to observe, sir,"

"that one of the great recommendations of this change would be the very little danger of any body's catching cold —so much less danger at the Crown than at Randalls! Mr. Perry might have reason to regret the alteration, but nobody else could."

"From the very circumstance of its being larger, sir. We shall have no occasion to open the windows at all —not once the whole evening; and it is that dreadful habit of opening the windows, letting in cold air upon heated bodies, which (as you well know, sir) does the mischief."

"Ah! sir —but a thoughtless young person will sometimes step behind a window-curtain, and throw up a sash, without its being suspected. I have often known it done myself."

"But, unfortunately, sir, my time is so limited——"

"Oh!"

"there will be plenty of time for talking every thing over. There is no hurry at all. If it can be contrived to be at the Crown, papa, it will be very convenient for the horses. They will be so near their own stable."

"I can answer for every thing of that nature, sir, because it will be under Mrs. Weston's care. Mrs. Weston undertakes to direct the whole."

"There, papa!—Now you must be satisfied— Our own dear Mrs. Weston, who is carefulness itself. Do not you remember what Mr. Perry said, so many years ago, when I had the measles?

How often have I heard you speak of it as such a compliment to her!"

"My father and Mrs. Weston are at the Crown at this moment,"

"examining the capabilities of the house. I left them there and came on to Hartfield, impatient for your opinion, and hoping you might be persuaded to join them and give your advice on the spot. I was desired to say so from both.

"Yes, very true,"

"very true. You want your neighbours' opinions. I do not wonder at you. If one could ascertain what the chief of them— the Coles, for instance. They are not far off. Shall I call upon them? Or Miss Bates? She is still nearer.—And I do not know whether Miss Bates is not as likely to understand the inclinations of the rest of the people as any body. I think we do want a larger council. Suppose I go and invite Miss Bates to join us?"

"You will get nothing to the purpose from Miss Bates,"

"She will be all delight and gratitude, but she will tell you nothing. She will not even listen to your questions. I see no advantage in consulting Miss Bates."

"But she is so amusing, so extremely amusing! I am very fond of hearing Miss Bates talk. And I need not bring the whole family, you know."

"Both sir! Can the old lady?"...

"Oh! I beg your pardon, sir. I did not immediately recollect. Undoubtedly if you wish it, I will endeavour to persuade them both."

"Very well. If the Westons think it worth while to be at all this trouble for a few hours of noisy entertainment, I have nothing to say against it, but that they shall not chuse pleasures for me.—Oh! yes, I must be there; I could not refuse; and I will keep as much awake as I can; but I would rather be at home, looking over William Larkins's week's account; much rather, I confess.—Pleasure in seeing dancing!—not I, indeed —I never look at it— I do not know who does.—Fine dancing, I believe, like virtue, must be its own reward. Those who are standing by are usually thinking of something very different."

"I said it would be so,"

"Of all horrid things, leave-taking is the worst."

"But you will come again,"