Austen Said:

"That I am sure you would. Indeed I do you justice, my good friend. Under that peculiar sort of dry, blunt manner, I know you have the warmest heart. As I tell Mr. E., you are a thorough humourist.—Yes, believe me, Knightley, I am fully sensible of your attention to me in the whole of this scheme. You have hit upon the very thing to please me."

to get Frank over to join them, if possible;

if he were come—

she was a little uneasy.—She had some fears of his horse.

he would part with his black mare.

it must be by some attack of Mrs. Churchill that he was prevented coming.—

"It is a sort of thing,"

"which I should not have thought myself privileged to inquire into. Though, perhaps, as the Chaperon of the party —I never was in any circle— exploring parties— young ladies— married women —"

"Very true, my love, very true. Exactly so, indeed —quite unheard of — —but some ladies say any thing. Better pass it off as a joke. Every body knows what is due to you."

"I like your plan,"

"Agreed, agreed. I will do my best. I am making a conundrum. How will a conundrum reckon?"

"I doubt its being very clever myself,"

"It is too much a matter of fact, but here it is.—What two letters of the alphabet are there, that express perfection?"

"Ah! you will never guess. You,

I am certain, will never guess.—I will tell you.—M. and A.—Em-ma.—Do you understand?"

"Oh! for myself, I protest I must be excused,"

"I really cannot attempt —I am not at all fond of the sort of thing. I had an acrostic once sent to me upon my own name, which I was not at all pleased with. I knew who it came from. An abominable puppy!—You know who I mean

These kind of things are very well at Christmas, when one is sitting round the fire; but quite out of place, in my opinion, when one is exploring about the country in summer. Miss Woodhouse must excuse me. I am not one of those who have witty things at every body's service. I do not pretend to be a wit. I have a great deal of vivacity in my own way, but I really must be allowed to judge when to speak and when to hold my tongue. Pass us, if you please, Mr. Churchill. Pass Mr. E., Knightley, Jane, and myself. We have nothing clever to say —not one of us.

"Yes, yes, pray pass me,"

"I have nothing to say that can entertain Miss Woodhouse, or any other young lady. An old married man—quite good for nothing. Shall we walk, Augusta?"

"With all my heart. I am really tired of exploring so long on one spot. Come, Jane, take my other arm."

"Poor Mrs. Churchill! no doubt she had been suffering a great deal: more than any body had ever supposed—and continual pain would try the temper. It was a sad event— a great shock— with all her faults, what would Mr. Churchill do without her? Mr. Churchill's loss would be dreadful indeed. Mr. Churchill would never get over it."—

"Ah! poor woman, who would have thought it!"

"could not stay five minutes, and wanted particularly to speak with her."—

"Can you come to Randalls at any time this morning?—Do, if it be possible. Mrs. Weston wants to see you. She must see you."

"No, no, not at all— only a little agitated. She would have ordered the carriage, and come to you, but she must see you alone, and that you know—

Humph!—Can you come?"

"Depend upon me—but ask no more questions. You will know it all in time. The most unaccountable business! But hush, hush!"

"No, no,"—

"Don't ask me. I promised my wife to leave it all to her. She will break it to you better than I can. Do not be impatient, Emma; it will all come out too soon."

"No, indeed you are mistaken."—

"Upon my word, Emma."—

"Upon my honour,"

"it does not. It is not in the smallest degree connected with any human being of the name of Knightley."

"I was wrong,"

"in talking of its being broke to you. I should not have used the expression. In fact, it does not concern you— it concerns only myself,—that is, we hope.—Humph!—In short, my dear Emma, there is no occasion to be so uneasy about it. I don't say that it is not a disagreeable business—but things might be much worse.—If we walk fast, we shall soon be at Randalls."

"I do not know.—One of the Otways.—Not Frank;—it is not Frank, I assure you. You will not see him. He is half way to Windsor by this time."

"Oh! yes —did not you know?—Well, well, never mind."

"Yes, Frank came over this morning, just to ask us how we did."

"Well, my dear,"

"I have brought her, and now I hope you will soon be better. I shall leave you together. There is no use in delay. I shall not be far off, if you want me."—

"I have been as good as my word. She has not the least idea."

"Have you indeed no idea?"

"Cannot you, my dear Emma— cannot you form a guess as to what you are to hear?"

"You are right. It does relate to him, and I will tell you directly;"

"He has been here this very morning, on a most extraordinary errand. It is impossible to express our surprize. He came to speak to his father on a subject,—to announce an attachment—"

"More than an attachment, indeed,"

"an engagement— a positive engagement.—What will you say, Emma —what will any body say, when it is known that Frank Churchill and Miss Fairfax are engaged;—nay, that they have been long engaged!"

"You may well be amazed,"

"You may well be amazed. But it is even so. There has been a solemn engagement between them ever since October— formed at Weymouth, and kept a secret from every body. Not a creature knowing it but themselves— neither the Campbells, nor her family, nor his.—It is so wonderful, that though perfectly convinced of the fact, it is yet almost incredible to myself. I can hardly believe it.—I thought I knew him."