Austen Said:

Besides the Eltons, it must be the Westons and Mr. Knightley; so far it was all of course—and it was hardly less inevitable that poor little Harriet must be asked to make the eighth:—

"She would rather not be in his company more than she could help. She was not yet quite able to see him and his charming happy wife together, without feeling uncomfortable. If Miss Woodhouse would not be displeased, she would rather stay at home."

"This is very true,"

"at least as far as relates to me, which was all that was meant—and it is very shameful.—Of the same age—and always knowing her— I ought to have been more her friend.—She will never like me now. I have neglected her too long. But I will shew her greater attention than I have done."

it would be a ninth very much out of humour at not being able to come even to Hartfield for forty-eight hours without falling in with a dinner-party.

though he certainly would make them nine, yet he always said so little, that the increase of noise would be very immaterial.

"I went only to the post-office,"

"and reached home before the rain was much. It is my daily errand. I always fetch the letters when I am here. It saves trouble, and is a something to get me out. A walk before breakfast does me good."

"No, but it did not absolutely rain when I set out."

"I must not hope to be ever situated as you are, in the midst of every dearest connexion, and therefore I cannot expect that simply growing older should make me indifferent about letters."

"You are speaking of letters of business; mine are letters of friendship."

"Ah! you are not serious now. I know Mr. John Knightley too well —I am very sure he understands the value of friendship as well as any body. I can easily believe that letters are very little to you, much less than to me, but it is not your being ten years older than myself which makes the difference, it is not age, but situation. You have every body dearest to you always at hand, I, probably, never shall again; and therefore till I have outlived all my affections, a post-office, I think, must always have power to draw me out, in worse weather than to-day."

"thank you"

"Yes, sir, I did indeed; and I am very much obliged by your kind solicitude about me."

"My dear Jane, what is this I hear?—Going to the post-office in the rain!—This must not be, I assure you.—You sad girl, how could you do such a thing?—It is a sign I was not there to take care of you."

she had not caught any cold.

"Oh! do not tell me. You really are a very sad girl, and do not know how to take care of yourself.—To the post-office indeed! Mrs. Weston, did you ever hear the like? You and I must positively exert our authority."

"Oh! she shall not do such a thing again,"

"We will not allow her to do such a thing again:"—

"there must be some arrangement made, there must indeed. I shall speak to Mr. E. The man who fetches our letters every morning (one of our men, I forget his name) shall inquire for yours too and bring them to you. That will obviate all difficulties you know; and from us I really think, my dear Jane, you can have no scruple to accept such an accommodation."

"You are extremely kind,"

"but I cannot give up my early walk. I am advised to be out of doors as much as I can, I must walk somewhere, and the post-office is an object; and upon my word, I have scarcely ever had a bad morning before."

"My dear Jane, say no more about it. The thing is determined, that is

as far as I can presume to determine any thing without the concurrence of my lord and master. You know, Mrs. Weston, you and I must be cautious how we express ourselves. But I do flatter myself, my dear Jane, that my influence is not entirely worn out. If I meet with no insuperable difficulties therefore, consider that point as settled."

"Excuse me,"

"I cannot by any means consent to such an arrangement, so needlessly troublesome to your servant. If the errand were not a pleasure to me, it could be done, as it always is when I am not here, by my grandmama's."

"Oh! my dear; but so much as Patty has to do!—And it is a kindness to employ our men."

"The post-office is a wonderful establishment!"

"The regularity and despatch of it! If one thinks of all that it has to do, and all that it does so well, it is really astonishing!"

"So seldom that any negligence or blunder appears! So seldom that a letter, among the thousands that are constantly passing about the kingdom, is even carried wrong—and not one in a million, I suppose, actually lost! And when one considers the variety of hands, and of bad hands too, that are to be deciphered, it increases the wonder."

"I never saw any gentleman's handwriting"—

Mrs. Weston was attending to some one else—

"Now, how am I going to introduce him?—Am I unequal to speaking his name at once before all these people? Is it necessary for me to use any roundabout phrase?—Your Yorkshire friend— your correspondent in Yorkshire;—that would be the way, I suppose, if I were very bad.—No, I can pronounce his name without the smallest distress. I certainly get better and better.—Now for it."

"Mr. Frank Churchill writes one of the best gentleman's hands I ever saw."

"If we were in the other room,"

"if I had my writing-desk, I am sure I could produce a specimen. I have a note of his.—Do not you remember, Mrs. Weston, employing him to write for you one day?"

"Well, well, I have that note; and can shew it after dinner to convince Mr. Knightley."

"Must I go first? I really am ashamed of always leading the way."

about fetching her own letters

to know whether the wet walk of this morning had produced any.

it had;

it would not have been so resolutely encountered but in full expectation of hearing from some one very dear, and

it had not been in vain.

there was an air of greater happiness than usual —a glow both of complexion and spirits.

She could have made an inquiry or two, as to the expedition and the expense of the Irish mails;—it was at her tongue's end—

not to utter a word that should hurt Jane Fairfax's feelings;

to prevent their making two distinct parties;—with so much perseverance in judging and behaving ill did Mrs. Elton engross Jane Fairfax and slight herself. She and Mrs. Weston were obliged to be almost always either talking together or silent together. Mrs. Elton left them no choice. If Jane repressed her for a little time, she soon began again; and though much that passed between them was in a half-whisper, especially on Mrs. Elton's side, there was no avoiding a knowledge of their principal subjects:

"Here is April come!"

I get quite anxious about you. June will soon be here."

"But I have never fixed on June or any other month —merely looked forward to the summer in general."