Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

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"A very pretty trick you have been playing me, upon my word! This was a device, I suppose, to sport with my curiosity, and exercise my talent of guessing. But you really frightened me. I thought you had lost half your property, at least. And here, instead of its being a matter of condolence, it turns out to be one of congratulation.—I congratulate you, Mr. Weston, with all my heart, on the prospect of having one of the most lovely and accomplished young women in England for your daughter."
"Harriet, poor Harriet!"—
"But, with common sense,"
"I am afraid I have had little to do."
"What news do you mean?"
"What did Mr. Weston tell you?"—
"Upon my word,"
"I begin to doubt my having any such talent. Can you seriously ask me, Harriet, whether I imagined him attached to another woman at the very time that I was—tacitly, if not openly—encouraging you to give way to your own feelings?—I never had the slightest suspicion, till within the last hour, of Mr. Frank Churchill's having the least regard for Jane Fairfax. You may be very sure that if I had, I should have cautioned you accordingly."
"I am delighted to hear you speak so stoutly on the subject,"
"but you do not mean to deny that there was a time— and not very distant either —when you gave me reason to understand that you did care about him?"
"Harriet!"
"What do you mean?—Good Heaven! what do you mean?—Mistake you!—Am I to suppose then?—"
"Harriet!"
"Let us understand each other now, without the possibility of farther mistake. Are you speaking of—Mr. Knightley?"
"Not quite,"
"for all that you then said, appeared to me to relate to a different person. I could almost assert that you had named Mr. Frank Churchill. I am sure the service Mr. Frank Churchill had rendered you, in protecting you from the gipsies, was spoken of."
"My dear Harriet, I perfectly remember the substance of what I said on the occasion. I told you that I did not wonder at your attachment; that considering the service he had rendered you, it was extremely natural:—and you agreed to it, expressing yourself very warmly as to your sense of that service, and mentioning even what your sensations had been in seeing him come forward to your rescue.—The impression of it is strong on my memory."
"Good God!"
"this has been a most unfortunate— — most deplorable mistake!—What is to be done?"
"Have you any idea of Mr. Knightley's returning your affection?"
"Might he not?—Is not it possible, that when enquiring, as you thought, into the state of your affections, he might be alluding to Mr. Martin —he might have Mr. Martin's interest in view?
"Harriet, I will only venture to declare, that Mr. Knightley is the last man in the world, who would intentionally give any woman the idea of his feeling for her more than he really does."
"Oh God! that I had never seen her!"
"Poor girl!"
"She thinks herself wrong, then, for having consented to a private engagement?"
"Poor girl!"
"She loves him then excessively, I suppose. It must have been from attachment only, that she could be led to form the engagement. Her affection must have overpowered her judgment."
"I am afraid,"
"that I must often have contributed to make her unhappy."
"If I did not know her to be happy now,"
"which, in spite of every little drawback from her scrupulous conscience, she must be, I could not bear these thanks;—for, oh! Mrs. Weston, if there were an account drawn up of the evil and the good I have done Miss Fairfax!—Well
this is all to be forgotten. You are very kind to bring me these interesting particulars. They shew her to the greatest advantage. I am sure she is very good— I hope she will be very happy. It is fit that the fortune should be on his side, for I think the merit will be all on hers."
"Oh! perfectly. I am always well, you know. Be sure to give me intelligence of the letter as soon as possible."
"You have some news to hear, now you are come back, that will rather surprize you."
"Oh! the best nature in the world— a wedding."
"How is it possible?"
"You probably have been less surprized than any of us, for you have had your suspicions.—I have not forgotten that you once tried to give me a caution.—I wish I had attended to it—but—
I seem to have been doomed to blindness."
"You are very kind—but you are mistaken—and I must set you right.— I am not in want of that sort of compassion. My blindness to what was going on, led me to act by them in a way that I must always be ashamed of, and I was very foolishly tempted to say and do many things which may well lay me open to unpleasant conjectures, but I have no other reason to regret that I was not in the secret earlier."
"Mr. Knightley,"
"I am in a very extraordinary situation. I cannot let you continue in your error; and yet, perhaps, since my manners gave such an impression, I have as much reason to be ashamed of confessing that I never have been at all attached to the person we are speaking of, as it might be natural for a woman to feel in confessing exactly the reverse.—But I never have."
"I have very little to say for my own conduct.—I was tempted by his attentions, and allowed myself to appear pleased.—An old story, probably—a common case—and no more than has happened to hundreds of my sex before; and yet it may not be the more excusable in one who sets up as I do for Understanding. Many circumstances assisted the temptation. He was the son of Mr. Weston —he was continually here —I always found him very pleasant—and, in short, for
"let me swell out the causes ever so ingeniously, they all centre in this at last— my vanity was flattered, and I allowed his attentions. Latterly, however— for some time, indeed —I have had no idea of their meaning any thing.—I thought them a habit, a trick, nothing that called for seriousness on my side. He has imposed on me, but he has not injured me. I have never been attached to him. And now I can tolerably comprehend his behaviour. He never wished to attach me. It was merely a blind to conceal his real situation with another.—It was his object to blind all about him; and no one, I am sure, could be more effectually blinded than myself—except that I was not blinded— that it was my good fortune— that, in short, I was somehow or other safe from him."
"I have no doubt of their being happy together,"
"I believe them to be very mutually and very sincerely attached."
"You speak as if you envied him."
"Oh! then, don't speak it, don't speak it,"
"Take a little time, consider, do not commit yourself."
"No,"—
"I should like to take another turn. Mr. Perry is not gone."