Austen Said:

there to remain, during the whole of his visit, unless actually sent for;

Mr. Crawford had come and would go without her being obliged to know anything of the matter.

she did feel almost ashamed of herself, after such a picture as her uncle had drawn, for not liking Mr. Crawford.

She would rather die than own the truth;

Self-willed, obstinate, selfish, and ungrateful. He thought her all this. She had deceived his expectations; she had lost his good opinion. What was to become of her?

miserable

The past, present, future, everything was terrible.

Selfish and ungrateful! to have appeared so to him! She was miserable for ever. She had no one to take her part, to counsel, or speak for her. Her only friend was absent. He might have softened his father; but all, perhaps all, would think her selfish and ungrateful. She might have to endure the reproach again and again; she might hear it, or see it, or know it to exist for ever in every connexion about her.

yet, if he really loved her, and were unhappy too! It was all wretchedness together.

To be spared from her aunt Norris's interminable reproaches!

Anything might be bearable rather than such reproaches. Even to see Mr. Crawford would be less overpowering.

to prove to him that she did desire his comfort, and sought to regain his favour;

Not to excite suspicion by her look or manner was now an object worth attaining; and she felt equal to almost anything that might save her from her aunt Norris.

A fire! it seemed too much;

Sir Thomas could have leisure to think of such a trifle again;

he did not mean there should be any change, and

it was only her own conscience that could fancy any;

all the reason she had to bless the kindness which saved her from the same spirit of reproach, exerted on a more momentous subject.

she had done right:

her judgment had not misled her. For the purity of her intentions she could answer;

her uncle's displeasure was abating, and would abate farther as he considered the matter with more impartiality, and felt, as a good man must feel, how wretched, and how unpardonable, how hopeless, and how wicked it was to marry without affection.

When the meeting with which she was threatened for the morrow was past, she could not but flatter herself that the subject would be finally concluded, and Mr. Crawford once gone from Mansfield,

everything would soon be as if no such subject had existed. She would not, could not believe, that Mr. Crawford's affection for her could distress him long; his mind was not of that sort. London would soon bring its cure. In London he would soon learn to wonder at his infatuation, and be thankful for the right reason in her which had saved him from its evil consequences.

she did love him, though she might not know it herself;

he should be able in time to make those feelings what he wished.

He would not despair: he would not desist. He had every well-grounded reason for solid attachment; he knew her to have all the worth that could justify the warmest hopes of lasting happiness with her;

her rather as one who had never thought on the subject enough to be in danger; who had been guarded by youth, a youth of mind as lovely as of person; whose modesty had prevented her from understanding his attentions, and who was still overpowered by the suddenness of addresses so wholly unexpected, and the novelty of a situation which her fancy had never taken into account.

Must it not follow of course, that, when he was understood, he should succeed?

Love such as his, in a man like himself, must with perseverance secure a return, and at no great distance;

how he could, after such language from her as she felt herself obliged to use, was not to be understood.

she did not love him, could not love him, was sure she never should love him;

such a change was quite impossible;

the subject was most painful to her;

she must entreat him never to mention it again, to allow her to leave him at once, and let it be considered as concluded for ever.

in her opinion their dispositions were so totally dissimilar as to make mutual affection incompatible; and that they were unfitted for each other by nature, education, and habit.

there being anything uncongenial in their characters, or anything unfriendly in their situations; and positively declared, that he would still love, and still hope!

She must be courteous, and she must be compassionate.

a perseverance so selfish and ungenerous. Here was again a want of delicacy and regard for others which had formerly so struck and disgusted her. Here was again a something of the same Mr. Crawford whom she had so reprobated before. How evidently was there a gross want of feeling and humanity where his own pleasure was concerned; and alas! how always known no principle to supply as a duty what the heart was deficient in! Had her own affections been as free as perhaps they ought to have been, he never could have engaged them.

too great indulgence and luxury of a fire upstairs:

her being never under any circumstances able to love Mr. Crawford,

how much of the truth was unknown to him, she believed she had no right to wonder at the line of conduct he pursued. He, who had married a daughter to Mr. Rushworth: romantic delicacy was certainly not to be expected from him. She must do her duty, and trust that time might make her duty easier than it now was.

She could not,

suppose Mr. Crawford's attachment would hold out for ever; she could not but imagine that steady, unceasing discouragement from herself would put an end to it in time.

If her aunt's feelings were against her, nothing could be hoped from attacking her understanding.

He had concluded —he had meant them to be far distant. His absence had been extended beyond a fortnight purposely to avoid Miss Crawford.

They sat so much longer than usual in the dining-parlour, that she was sure they must be talking of her;

hoping, and

believing, that it would be a match at last, and

united by mutual affection, it would appear that their dispositions were as exactly fitted to make them blessed in each other,

Crawford had been too precipitate. He had not given her time to attach herself. He had begun at the wrong end. With such powers as his, however, and such a disposition as hers, Edmund trusted that everything would work out a happy conclusion.