Austen Said:

Time, however,

would tell him that they ought to be friends again.

He would have judged better,

if he had not stopped.—

nothing became him more.—It was with him, of so simple, yet so dignified a nature.—

It spoke such perfect amity.—

she wished she had left her ten minutes earlier;—it would have been a great pleasure to talk over Jane Fairfax's situation with Mr. Knightley.—

but it might have happened at a better time—and to have had longer notice of it, would have been pleasanter.—

It was a pity that she had not come back earlier!

how Frank might be affected by the event, how benefited, how freed.

Now, an attachment to Harriet Smith would have nothing to encounter. Mr. Churchill, independent of his wife, was feared by nobody; an easy, guidable man, to be persuaded into any thing by his nephew. All that remained to be wished was, that the nephew should form the attachment,

to be of use to her;

to shew a value for her society, and testify respect and consideration.

to prevail on her to spend a day at Hartfield.

To take her —be it only an hour or two —from her aunt, to give her change of air and scene, and quiet rational conversation, even for an hour or two, might do her good;

she would call for her in the carriage at any hour that Jane would name—

she had Mr. Perry's decided opinion, in favour of such exercise for his patient.

her own note had deserved something better;

that she was not at all in want of any thing."

she could have no doubt— putting every thing together —that Jane was resolved to receive no kindness from her.

could Mr. Knightley have been privy to all her attempts of assisting Jane Fairfax, could he even have seen into her heart, he would not, on this occasion, have found any thing to reprove.

the probability of its being some money concern— — something just come to light, of a disagreeable nature in the circumstances of the family,—something which the late event at Richmond had brought forward.

Frank Churchill had behaved very ill by herself— very ill in many ways,—but it was not so much his behaviour as her own, which made her so angry with him. It was the scrape which he had drawn her into on Harriet's account, that gave the deepest hue to his offence.—Poor Harriet! to be a second time the dupe of her misconceptions and flattery. Mr. Knightley had spoken prophetically, when he once said,

She was afraid she had done her nothing but disservice.—It was true that she had not to charge herself, in this instance as in the former, with being the sole and original author of the mischief; with having suggested such feelings as might otherwise never have entered Harriet's imagination; for Harriet had acknowledged her admiration and preference of Frank Churchill before she had ever given her a hint on the subject; but she felt completely guilty of having encouraged what she might have repressed. She might have prevented the indulgence and increase of such sentiments. Her influence would have been enough.

she had been risking her friend's happiness on most insufficient grounds. Common sense would have directed her to tell Harriet, that she must not allow herself to think of him, and that there were five hundred chances to one against his ever caring for her.—

Harriet would be anxiety enough; she need no longer be unhappy about Jane, whose troubles and whose ill-health having, of course, the same origin, must be equally under cure.—

Her days of insignificance and evil were over.—She would soon be well, and happy, and prosperous.—

This discovery laid many smaller matters open.

No doubt it had been from jealousy.—In Jane's eyes she had been a rival; and well might any thing she could offer of assistance or regard be repulsed. An airing in the Hartfield carriage would have been the rack, and arrowroot from the Hartfield storeroom must have been poison.

Jane Fairfax would have neither elevation nor happiness beyond her desert. But poor Harriet was such an engrossing charge!

this second disappointment would be more severe than the first. Considering the very superior claims of the object, it ought; and judging by its apparently stronger effect on Harriet's mind, producing reserve and self-command, it would.—She must communicate the painful truth, however, and as soon as possible.

feeling it almost ridiculous, that she should have the very same distressing and delicate office to perform by Harriet, which Mrs. Weston had just gone through by herself. The intelligence, which had been so anxiously announced to her, she was now to be anxiously announcing to another.

so,

had poor Mrs. Weston felt when she was approaching Randalls. Could the event of the disclosure bear an equal resemblance!—But of that, unfortunately, there could be no chance.

more wonderful things had happened;

there had been matches of greater disparity

more wonderful things had happened, matches of greater disparity had taken place than between Mr. Frank Churchill and me;

Why was it so much worse that Harriet should be in love with Mr. Knightley, than with Frank Churchill? Why was the evil so dreadfully increased by Harriet's having some hope of a return? It darted through her, with the speed of an arrow, that Mr. Knightley must marry no one but herself!

How improperly had she been acting by Harriet! How inconsiderate, how indelicate, how irrational, how unfeeling had been her conduct! What blindness, what madness, had led her on!

(there would be no need of compassion to the girl who believed herself loved by Mr. Knightley—but justice required that she should not be made unhappy by any coldness now,)

For her own advantage indeed, it was fit that the utmost extent of Harriet's hopes should be enquired into; and Harriet had done nothing to forfeit the regard and interest which had been so voluntarily formed and maintained—or to deserve to be slighted by the person, whose counsels had never led her right.—

Harriet had been conscious of a difference in his behaviour ever since those two decisive dances.—

he had, on that occasion, found her much superior to his expectation.

From that evening, or at least from the time of Miss Woodhouse's encouraging her to think of him, Harriet had begun to be sensible of his talking to her much more than he had been used to do, and of his having indeed quite a different manner towards her; a manner of kindness and sweetness!—Latterly she had been more and more aware of it. When they had been all walking together, he had so often come and walked by her, and talked so very delightfully!—He seemed to want to be acquainted with her.

it to have been very much the case. She had often observed the change, to almost the same extent.—

to be in the closest agreement with what she had known of his opinion of Harriet.

He praised her for being without art or affectation, for having simple, honest, generous, feelings.—

he saw such recommendations in Harriet; he had dwelt on them to her more than once.—

The first, was his walking with her apart from the others, in the lime-walk at Donwell, where they had been walking some time before Emma came, and he had taken pains (as she was convinced) to draw her from the rest to himself—and at first, he had talked to her in a more particular way than he had ever done before, in a very particular way indeed!—

He seemed to be almost asking her, whether her affections were engaged.—But as soon as she (Miss Woodhouse) appeared likely to join them, he changed the subject, and began talking about farming:—The second, was his having sat talking with her nearly half an hour before Emma came back from her visit, the very last morning of his being at Hartfield—though, when he first came in, he had said that he could not stay five minutes— and his having told her, during their conversation, that though he must go to London, it was very much against his inclination that he left home at all,