Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

Search

Your search returned 792 results


"one can get near every body, and say every thing. My dear Emma, I am longing to talk to you. I have been making discoveries and forming plans, just like yourself, and I must tell them while the idea is fresh. Do you know how Miss Bates and her niece came here?"
"Oh! yes— but how they were conveyed hither?—the manner of their coming?"
"Very true.—Well, a little while ago it occurred to me how very sad it would be to have Jane Fairfax walking home again, late at night, and cold as the nights are now. And as I looked at her, though I never saw her appear to more advantage, it struck me that she was heated, and would therefore be particularly liable to take cold. Poor girl! I could not bear the idea of it; so, as soon as Mr. Weston came into the room, and I could get at him, I spoke to him about the carriage. You may guess how readily he came into my wishes; and having his approbation, I made my way directly to Miss Bates, to assure her that the carriage would be at her service before it took us home; for I thought it would be making her comfortable at once. Good soul! she was as grateful as possible, you may be sure.
—but with many, many thanks—
I was quite surprized;—very glad, I am sure; but really quite surprized. Such a very kind attention—and so thoughtful an attention!—the sort of thing that so few men would think of. And, in short, from knowing his usual ways, I am very much inclined to think that it was for their accommodation the carriage was used at all. I do suspect he would not have had a pair of horses for himself, and that it was only as an excuse for assisting them."
"Well,"
"you give him credit for more simple, disinterested benevolence in this instance than I do; for while Miss Bates was speaking, a suspicion darted into my head, and I have never been able to get it out again. The more I think of it, the more probable it appears. In short, I have made a match between Mr. Knightley and Jane Fairfax. See the consequence of keeping you company!—What do you say to it?"
"My dear Emma, I have told you what led me to think of it. I do not want the match —I do not want to injure dear little Henry— but the idea has been given me by circumstances; and if Mr. Knightley really wished to marry, you would not have him refrain on Henry's account, a boy of six years old, who knows nothing of the matter?"
"Nay, she has always been a first favourite with him, as you very well know."
"I am not speaking of its prudence; merely its probability."
"Imprudent, if you please— but not mad. Excepting inequality of fortune, and perhaps a little disparity of age, I can see nothing unsuitable."
"My dear Emma, as long as he thinks so, it is so; but if he really loves Jane Fairfax—"
"Well,"
"perhaps the greatest good he could do them, would be to give Jane such a respectable home."
"For shame, Emma! Do not mimic her. You divert me against my conscience. And, upon my word, I do not think Mr. Knightley would be much disturbed by Miss Bates. Little things do not irritate him. She might talk on; and if he wanted to say any thing himself, he would only talk louder, and drown her voice. But the question is not, whether it would be a bad connexion for him, but whether he wishes it; and I think he does. I have heard him speak, and so must you, so very highly of Jane Fairfax! The interest he takes in her— his anxiety about her health —his concern that she should have no happier prospect! I have heard him express himself so warmly on those points!—Such an admirer of her performance on the pianoforte, and of her voice!
I have heard him say that
Oh! and I had almost forgotten one idea that occurred to me— this pianoforte that has been sent here by somebody —though we have all been so well satisfied to consider it a present from the Campbells, may it not be from Mr. Knightley? I cannot help suspecting him. I think he is just the person to do it, even without being in love."
"I have heard him lamenting her having no instrument repeatedly; oftener than I should suppose such a circumstance would, in the common course of things, occur to him."
"There might be scruples of delicacy, my dear Emma. I have a very strong notion that it comes from him. I am sure he was particularly silent when Mrs. Cole told us of it at dinner."
she was going to call on the Bateses, in order to hear the new instrument.
"For my companion tells me,"
"that I absolutely promised Miss Bates last night, that I would come this morning. I was not aware of it myself. I did not know that I had fixed a day, but as he says I did, I am going now."
"I thought you meant to go with me. They would be very much pleased."
"Do come with me,"
"if it be not very disagreeable to you. It need not detain us long. We will go to Hartfield afterwards. We will follow them to Hartfield. I really wish you to call with me. It will be felt so great an attention! and I always thought you meant it."
"What!"
"have not you finished it yet? you would not earn a very good livelihood as a working silversmith at this rate."
to play as long as they could wish to dance;
his friends will be so kind as to visit him there. Better accommodations, he can promise them, and not a less grateful welcome than at Randalls.
no objection to it, provided you are satisfied.
It would be the greatest pleasure to them, if you could allow me to attend you there. They can do nothing satisfactorily without you."
"Emma,"
"this paper is worse than I expected. Look! in places you see it is dreadfully dirty; and the wainscot is more yellow and forlorn than any thing I could have imagined."
"My dear, you are too particular,"
"What does all that signify? You will see nothing of it by candlelight. It will be as clean as Randalls by candlelight. We never see any thing of it on our club-nights."
having no regular supper; merely sandwiches, &c., set out in the little room;
"I do not think it is so very small. We shall not be many, you know."
"You talk a great deal of the length of this passage, my dear. It is a mere nothing after all; and not the least draught from the stairs."
"I wish,"
"one could know which arrangement our guests in general would like best. To do what would be most generally pleasing must be our object— if one could but tell what that would be."
"Well —if you please,"
"if you think she will be of any use."
"Aye, do, Frank.—Go and fetch Miss Bates, and let us end the matter at once. She will enjoy the scheme, I am sure; and I do not know a properer person for shewing us how to do away difficulties. Fetch Miss Bates. We are growing a little too nice. She is a standing lesson of how to be happy. But fetch them both. Invite them both."
"The old lady! No, the young lady, to be sure. I shall think you a great blockhead, Frank, if you bring the aunt without the niece."
the evils of it much less than she had supposed before— indeed very trifling;
"He has asked her, my dear. That's right. I knew he would!"
As to his going, it was inevitable. He must be gone within a few hours, though without feeling any real alarm for his aunt, to lessen his repugnance. He knew her illnesses; they never occurred but for her own convenience.
"that he could only allow himself time to hurry to Highbury, after breakfast, and take leave of the few friends there whom he could suppose to feel any interest in him; and that he might be expected at Hartfield very soon."
"It was time to go;"
"We cannot suppose that she has any great enjoyment at the Vicarage, my dear Emma— but it is better than being always at home. Her aunt is a good creature, but, as a constant companion, must be very tiresome. We must consider what Miss Fairfax quits, before we condemn her taste for what she goes to."