Austen Said:

"With you, if you will ask me."

"Will you?"

"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."

"Brother and sister! no, indeed."

"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!"

"you make me more ashamed of myself than I can bear. Remember it? Aye, I remember it all now; all, except your saving this relic— I knew nothing of that till this moment —but the cutting the finger, and my recommending court-plaister, and saying I had none about me!—Oh! my sins, my sins!—And I had plenty all the while in my pocket!—One of my senseless tricks!—I deserve to be under a continual blush all the rest of my life.—Well—

go on— — what else?"

"And so you actually put this piece of court-plaister by for his sake!"

"Lord bless me! when should I ever have thought of putting by in cotton a piece of court-plaister that Frank Churchill had been pulling about! I never was equal to this."

"I do remember it,"

"I perfectly remember it.—Talking about spruce-beer.—Oh! yes— Mr. Knightley and I both saying we liked it, and Mr. Elton's seeming resolved to learn to like it too. I perfectly remember it.—Stop; Mr. Knightley was standing just here, was not he? I have an idea he was standing just here."

"Well, go on."

"My poor dear Harriet! and have you actually found happiness in treasuring up these things?"

"But, Harriet, is it necessary to burn the court-plaister?—I have not a word to say for the bit of old pencil, but the court-plaister might be useful."

"And when,"

"will there be a beginning of Mr. Churchill?"

"Well, Harriet, whenever you marry I would advise you to do so and so"—

"Never marry!—This is a new resolution."

"I hope it does not proceed from — —I hope it is not in compliment to Mr. Elton?"

"Harriet, I will not affect to be in doubt of your meaning. Your resolution, or rather your expectation of never marrying, results from an idea that the person whom you might prefer, would be too greatly your superior in situation to think of you. Is not it so?"

"I am not at all surprized at you, Harriet. The service he rendered you was enough to warm your heart."

"It is very natural. It is natural, and it is honourable.—Yes, honourable, I think, to chuse so well and so gratefully.—But that it will be a fortunate preference is more than I can promise. I do not advise you to give way to it, Harriet. I do not by any means engage for its being returned. Consider what you are about. Perhaps it will be wisest in you to check your feelings while you can: at any rate do not let them carry you far, unless you are persuaded of his liking you. Be observant of him. Let his behaviour be the guide of your sensations. I give you this caution now, because I shall never speak to you again on the subject. I am determined against all interference. Henceforward I know nothing of the matter. Let no name ever pass our lips. We were very wrong before; we will be cautious now.—He is your superior, no doubt, and there do seem objections and obstacles of a very serious nature; but yet, Harriet, more wonderful things have taken place, there have been matches of greater disparity. But take care of yourself. I would not have you too sanguine; though, however it may end, be assured your raising your thoughts to him, is a mark of good taste which I shall always know how to value."

"By the bye,"

"what became of Mr. Perry's plan of setting up his carriage?"

"Nay, I had it from you. You wrote me word of it three months ago."

"Indeed you did. I remember it perfectly. You mentioned it as what was certainly to be very soon. Mrs. Perry had told somebody, and was extremely happy about it.

she thought

You must remember it now?"

"Never! really, never!—Bless me! how could it be?—Then I must have dreamt it— but I was completely persuaded—Miss Smith, you walk as if you were tired. You will not be sorry to find yourself at home."

"No, sir,"

"I seem to have had it from nobody.—Very odd!—I really was persuaded of Mrs. Weston's having mentioned it in one of her letters to Enscombe, many weeks ago, with all these particulars—but as

she declares

of course it must have been a dream. I am a great dreamer. I dream of every body at Highbury when I am away—and when I have gone through my particular friends, then I begin dreaming of Mr. and Mrs. Perry."

"Miss Woodhouse,"

"have your nephews taken away their alphabets— their box of letters? It used to stand here. Where is it? This is a sort of dull-looking evening, that ought to be treated rather as winter than summer. We had great amusement with those letters one morning. I want to puzzle you again."

"Nonsense! for shame!"

"I will give it to her— shall I?"—

"No, no, you must not; you shall not, indeed."

"Pray, Emma,"

"may I ask in what lay the great amusement, the poignant sting of the last word given to you and Miss Fairfax? I saw the word, and am curious to know how it could be so very entertaining to the one, and so very distressing to the other."

"Oh!"

"it all meant nothing; a mere joke among ourselves."

"The joke,"

"seemed confined to you and Mr. Churchill."

"My dear Emma,"

"do you think you perfectly understand the degree of acquaintance between the gentleman and lady we have been speaking of?"