Austen Said:

"I am rather surprised,"

"that Mr. Crawford should come back again so soon, after being here so long before, full seven weeks; for I had understood he was so very fond of change and moving about, that I thought something would certainly occur, when he was once gone, to take him elsewhere. He is used to much gayer places than Mansfield."

"What a favourite he is with my cousins!"

"If Miss Bertram were not engaged,"

"I could sometimes almost think that he admired her more than Julia."

she must have been mistaken,

think differently in future;

would she have been not to be obliged to listen,

most unwillingly,

she did not wish to dance.

"Perhaps they may not be able to find any play to suit them. Your brother's taste and your sisters' seem very different."

"I should think my aunt Norris would be on your side."

it could be chosen in the present instance, that it could be proposed and accepted in a private theatre!

the situation of one, and the language of the other, so unfit to be expressed by any woman of modesty,

her cousins could be aware of what they were engaging in;

longed to have them roused as soon as possible by the remonstrance which Edmund would certainly make.

"Me!"

"Indeed you must excuse me. I could not act anything if you were to give me the world. No, indeed, I cannot act."

"It is not that I am afraid of learning by heart,"

"but I really cannot act."

"No, indeed, Mr. Bertram, you must excuse me. You cannot have an idea. It would be absolutely impossible for me. If I were to undertake it, I should only disappoint you."

"You must excuse me, indeed you must excuse me,"

Miss Crawford had protected her only for the time; and if she were applied to again among themselves with all the authoritative urgency that Tom and Maria were capable of, and Edmund perhaps away, what should she do?

Everything was a friend, or bore her thoughts to a friend; and though there had been sometimes much of suffering to her; though her motives had often been misunderstood, her feelings disregarded, and her comprehension undervalued; though she had known the pains of tyranny, of ridicule, and neglect, yet almost every recurrence of either had led to something consolatory:

her aunt Bertram had spoken for her, or Miss Lee had been encouraging, or, what was yet more frequent or more dear, Edmund had been her champion and her friend: he had supported her cause or explained her meaning, he had told her not to cry, or had given her some proof of affection which made her tears delightful; and the whole was now so blended together, so harmonised by distance, that every former affliction had its charm.

Was she right in refusing what was so warmly asked, so strongly wished for— what might be so essential to a scheme on which some of those to whom she owed the greatest complaisance had set their hearts? Was it not ill-nature, selfishness, and a fear of exposing herself? And would Edmund's judgment, would his persuasion of Sir Thomas's disapprobation of the whole, be enough to justify her in a determined denial in spite of all the rest?

"Come in"

"Yes, certainly."

"My opinion!"

"Yes; but what can be done? Your brother is so determined."

"No,"

"not immediately, but ——"

"I am sorry for Miss Crawford; but I am more sorry to see you drawn in to do what you had resolved against, and what you are known to think will be disagreeable to my uncle. It will be such a triumph to the others!"

"Yes, it will be a great point."

"No, I cannot think of anything else."

"Oh, cousin!"

"No doubt she will be very glad. It must be a great relief to her,"

"She was very kind, indeed, and I am glad to have her spared"...

To be acting! After all his objections— objections so just and so public! After all that she had heard him say, and seen him look, and known him to be feeling. Could it be possible? Edmund so inconsistent! Was he not deceiving himself? Was he not wrong? Alas! it was all Miss Crawford's doing.

Things should take their course; she cared not how it ended. Her cousins might attack, but could hardly tease her. She was beyond their reach; and if at last obliged to yield— no matter —it was all misery now.

for it was Miss Crawford to whom she was obliged— it was Miss Crawford whose kind exertions were to excite her gratitude, and whose merit in making them was spoken of with a glow of admiration. She was safe; but peace and safety were unconnected here.

anything would have been preferable to this. Mrs. Grant was of consequence: her good-nature had honourable mention; her taste and her time were considered; her presence was wanted; she was sought for, and attended, and praised;

she received even the greatest,

she could never have been easy in joining a scheme which, considering only her uncle, she must condemn altogether.

Everybody had a part either too long or too short; nobody would attend as they ought; nobody would remember on which side they were to come in; nobody but the complainer would observe any directions.

"I believe,"

"there will be three acts rehearsed to-morrow evening, and that will give you an opportunity of seeing all the actors at once."

"Have I? I will do my best with the greatest readiness; but I must read the part, for I can say very little of it."

she could not, would not, dared not attempt it:

to believe their performance would, indeed, have such nature and feeling in it as must ensure their credit, and make it a very suffering exhibition to herself.