Austen Said:

Fourteen minutes to be given to those with whom she had thankfully passed six weeks not six months ago!—

how justly they might resent, how naturally Harriet must suffer. It was a bad business. She would have given a great deal, or endured a great deal, to have had the Martins in a higher rank of life.

They were so deserving, that a little higher should have been enough: but as it was, how could she have done otherwise?—Impossible!—She could not repent.

They must be separated; but there was a great deal of pain in the process—

"This is too bad,"

"And now we shall just miss them; too provoking!—I do not know when I have been so disappointed."

"My dear, dear anxious friend,"—

"always overcareful for every body's comfort but your own; I see you now in all your little fidgets, going again and again into his room, to be sure that all is right."

"'Tis twelve; I shall not forget to think of you four hours hence; and by this time to-morrow, perhaps, or a little later, I may be thinking of the possibility of their all calling here. I am sure they will bring him soon."

"It is a great pleasure where one can indulge in it,"

"though there are not many houses that I should presume on so far; but in coming home I felt I might do any thing."

he knew how to make himself agreeable;

He was very much pleased with Randalls,

a most admirably arranged house,

even to be very small,

the situation, the walk to Highbury, Highbury itself, Hartfield still more, and

to have always felt the sort of interest in the country which none but one's own country gives, and the greatest curiosity to visit it.

That he should never have been able to indulge so amiable a feeling before,

"Was she a horsewoman?—Pleasant rides?—Pleasant walks?—Had they a large neighbourhood?—Highbury, perhaps, afforded society enough?—There were several very pretty houses in and about it.—Balls —had they balls?—Was it a musical society?"

"His father's marriage,"

"had been the wisest measure, every friend must rejoice in it; and the family from whom he had received such a blessing must be ever considered as having conferred the highest obligation on him."

"Elegant, agreeable manners, I was prepared for,"

"but I confess that, considering every thing, I had not expected more than a very tolerably well-looking woman of a certain age; I did not know that I was to find a pretty young woman in Mrs. Weston."

"You cannot see too much perfection in Mrs. Weston for my feelings,"

"were you to guess her to be eighteen, I should listen with pleasure; but she would be ready to quarrel with you for using such words. Don't let her imagine that you have spoken of her as a pretty young woman."

"I hope I should know better,"

"no, depend upon it,

that in addressing Mrs. Weston I should understand whom I might praise without any danger of being thought extravagant in my terms."

whether the same suspicion of what might be expected from their knowing each other, which had taken strong possession of her mind, had ever crossed his;

whether his compliments were to be considered as marks of acquiescence, or proofs of defiance.

"As you are going farther on business, sir, I will take the opportunity of paying a visit, which must be paid some day or other, and therefore may as well be paid now. I have the honour of being acquainted with a neighbour of yours,

a lady residing in or near Highbury; a family of the name of Fairfax. I shall have no difficulty, I suppose, in finding the house; though Fairfax, I believe, is not the proper name —I should rather say Barnes, or Bates. Do you know any family of that name?"

"There is no necessity for my calling this morning,"

"another day would do as well; but there was that degree of acquaintance at Weymouth which —"

"I have heard her speak of the acquaintance,"

"she is a very elegant young woman."

"Yes,"

"If you were never particularly struck by her manners before,"

"I think you will to-day. You will see her to advantage; see her and hear her —no, I am afraid you will not hear her at all, for she has an aunt who never holds her tongue."

"My dear sir, upon no account in the world; my father can direct me."

"He did not doubt there being very pleasant walks in every direction, but if left to him, he should always chuse the same. Highbury, that airy, cheerful, happy-looking Highbury, would be his constant attraction."—

If he were deficient there, nothing should make amends for it.

It was not merely in fine words or hyperbolical compliment that he paid his duty; nothing could be more proper or pleasing than his whole manner to her —nothing could more agreeably denote his wish of considering her as a friend and securing her affection.

with such feelings as were now shewn, it could not be fairly supposed that he had been ever voluntarily absenting himself; that he had not been acting a part, or making a parade of insincere professions; and that Mr. Knightley certainly had not done him justice.

No, it was long enough, broad enough, handsome enough. It would hold the very number for comfort. They ought to have balls there at least every fortnight through the winter. Why had not Miss Woodhouse revived the former good old days of the room?—She who could do any thing in Highbury! The want of proper families in the place, and the conviction that none beyond the place and its immediate environs could be tempted to attend, were mentioned; but he was not satisfied.

could not be persuaded that so many good-looking houses as he saw around him, could not furnish numbers enough for such a meeting;

He seemed to have all the life and spirit, cheerful feelings, and social inclinations of his father, and nothing of the pride or reserve of Enscombe. Of pride, indeed, there was, perhaps, scarcely enough; his indifference to a confusion of rank, bordered too much on inelegance of mind. He could be no judge, however, of the evil he was holding cheap. It was but an effusion of lively spirits.

if he had paid it.

"Yes, oh! yes"—

"I was just going to mention it. A very successful visit:—I saw all the three ladies; and felt very much obliged to you for your preparatory hint. If the talking aunt had taken me quite by surprize, it must have been the death of me. As it was, I was only betrayed into paying a most unreasonable visit. Ten minutes would have been all that was necessary, perhaps all that was proper; and I had told my father I should certainly be at home before him—but there was no getting away, no pause; and, to my utter astonishment, I found, when he (finding me nowhere else) joined me there at last, that I had been actually sitting with them very nearly three-quarters of an hour. The good lady had not given me the possibility of escape before."