Austen Said:

she did not know how either to wear the cross, or to refrain from wearing it.

The gift was too valuable.

she might not be accused of pride or indifference, or some other littleness;

to know which might be least valuable;

But this was an unworthy feeling.

Miss Crawford had anticipated her wants with a kindness which proved her a real friend.

To take what had been the gift of another person, of a brother too, impossible! it must not be!

He evidently tried to please her: he was gallant, he was attentive, he was something like what he had been to her cousins: he wanted, she supposed, to cheat her of her tranquillity as he had cheated them; and whether he might not have some concern in this necklace— she could not be convinced that he had not,

for Miss Crawford, complaisant as a sister, was careless as a woman and a friend.

Fanny could not but admit the superior power of one pleasure over his own mind, though it might have its drawback.

She was one of his two dearest— that must support her.

But the other: the first!

She had never heard him speak so openly before, and though it told her no more than what she had long perceived, it was a stab, for it told of his own convictions and views.

They were decided. He would marry Miss Crawford.

she was one of his two dearest,

Could she believe Miss Crawford to deserve him, it would be— oh, how different would it be —how far more tolerable! But he was deceived in her: he gave her merits which she had not; her faults were what they had ever been, but he saw them no longer.

To call or to fancy it a loss, a disappointment, would be a presumption for which she had not words strong enough to satisfy her own humility.

To think of him as Miss Crawford might be justified in thinking, would in her be insanity. To her he could be nothing under any circumstances; nothing dearer than a friend. Why did such an idea occur to her even enough to be reprobated and forbidden? It ought not to have touched on the confines of her imagination. She would endeavour to be rational, and to deserve the right of judging of Miss Crawford's character, and the privilege of true solicitude for him by a sound intellect and an honest heart.

for the original plan was that William should go up by the mail from Northampton the following night, which would not have allowed him an hour's rest before he must have got into a Portsmouth coach; and though this offer of Mr. Crawford's would rob her of many hours of his company, she was too happy in having William spared from the fatigue of such a journey,

To dance without much observation or any extraordinary fatigue, to have strength and partners for about half the evening, to dance a little with Edmund, and not a great deal with Mr. Crawford, to see William enjoy himself, and be able to keep away from her aunt Norris,

it had been about the same hour that she had returned from the Parsonage, and found Edmund in the East room.

he had soon ceased to think of her countenance. He did not appear in spirits: something unconnected with her was probably amiss.

The ball, too such an evening of pleasure before her!

those dearest tokens

Miss Crawford had a claim; and when it was no longer to encroach on, to interfere with the stronger claims, the truer kindness of another, she could do her justice even with pleasure to herself.

The necklace really looked very well;

very charming,

She looked all loveliness—and what might not be the end of it?

if Mr. Crawford had not asked her, she must have been the last to be sought after, and should have received a partner only through a series of inquiry, and bustle, and interference, which would have been terrible;

having a partner, a voluntary partner, secured against the dancing began.

she was to lead the way and open the ball;

that she hoped it might be settled otherwise;

To be placed above so many elegant young women! The distinction was too great. It was treating her like her cousins!

they were not at home to take their own place in the room, and have their share of a pleasure which would have been so very delightful to them.

So often as she had heard them wish for a ball at home as the greatest of all felicities! And to have them away when it was given—and for her to be opening the ball— and with Mr. Crawford too!

they would not envy her that distinction now

to what they had all been to each other when once dancing in that house before,

much rather not have been asked by him again so very soon,

she had not been obliged to suspect that his previous inquiries of Mrs. Norris, about the supper hour, were all for the sake of securing her at that part of the evening.

But it was not to be avoided: he made her feel that she was the object of all; though she could not say that it was unpleasantly done, that there was indelicacy or ostentation in his manner; and sometimes, when he talked of William, he was really not unagreeable, and shewed even a warmth of heart which did him credit.

It was barbarous to be happy when Edmund was suffering.

a ball was indeed delightful.

as if she had wasted half his visit in idle cares and selfish solicitudes unconnected with him.

the difference which twenty-four hours had made in that room, and all that part of the house. Last night it had been hope and smiles, bustle and motion, noise and brilliancy, in the drawing-room, and out of the drawing-room, and everywhere. Now it was languor, and all but solitude.

They were indeed a smaller party than she had ever known there for a whole day together, and he was gone on whom the comfort and cheerfulness of every family meeting and every meal chiefly depended. But this must be learned to be endured. He would soon be always gone; and she was thankful that she could now sit in the same room with her uncle, hear his voice, receive his questions, and even answer them, without such wretched feelings as she had formerly known.

all as nonsense, as mere trifling and gallantry, which meant only to deceive for the hour;

she could not but feel that it was treating her improperly and unworthily, and in such a way as she had not deserved; but it was like himself, and entirely of a piece with what she had seen before;

It was all beyond belief! He was inexcusable, incomprehensible! But such were his habits that he could do nothing without a mixture of evil. He had previously made her the happiest of human beings, and now he had insulted— she knew not what to say, how to class, or how to regard it. She would not have him be serious, and yet what could excuse the use of such words and offers, if they meant but to trifle?

But William was a lieutenant. That was a fact beyond a doubt, and without an alloy. She would think of it for ever and forget all the rest. Mr. Crawford would certainly never address her so again: he must have seen how unwelcome it was to her; and in that case, how gratefully she could esteem him for his friendship to William!

though he might think nothing of what had passed, it would be quite distressing to her to see him again so soon.