Austen Said:

"at that rate, what will become of her?"

"But I had the assistance of all your endeavours to counteract the indulgence of other people. I doubt whether my own sense would have corrected me without it."

"I am sure you were of use to me,"

"I was very often influenced rightly by you— — oftener than I would own at the time. I am very sure you did me good. And if poor little Anna Weston is to be spoiled, it will be the greatest humanity in you to do as much for her as you have done for me, except falling in love with her when she is thirteen."

'Mr. Knightley, I am going to do so-and-so; papa says I may, or I have Miss Taylor's leave'

"What an amiable creature I was!—No wonder you should hold my speeches in such affectionate remembrance."

'Mr. Knightley.'

'Mr. Knightley;'

"I remember once calling you 'George,' in one of my amiable fits, about ten years ago. I did it because I thought it would offend you; but, as you made no objection, I never did it again."

"Impossible!—I never can call you any thing but 'Mr. Knightley.' I will not promise even to equal the elegant terseness of Mrs. Elton, by calling you Mr. K.—But I will promise,"

"I will promise to call you once by your Christian name. I do not say when, but perhaps you may guess where;—in the building in which N. takes M. for better, for worse."

"He writes like a sensible man,"

"I honour his sincerity. It is very plain that he considers the good fortune of the engagement as all on my side, but that he is not without hope of my growing, in time, as worthy of your affection, as you think me already. Had he said any thing to bear a different construction, I should not have believed him."

"He and I should differ very little in our estimation of the two,"

"much less, perhaps, than he is aware of, if we could enter without ceremony or reserve on the subject."

"Oh!"

"if you fancy your brother does not do me justice, only wait till my dear father is in the secret, and hear his opinion. Depend upon it, he will be much farther from doing you justice. He will think all the happiness, all the advantage, on your side of the question; all the merit on mine. I wish I may not sink into 'poor Emma' with him at once.—His tender compassion towards oppressed worth can go no farther."

"If I understand your brother, he only means so far as your having some thoughts of marrying. He had no idea of me. He seems perfectly unprepared for that."

"Good or bad?"

"Oh! good I am sure.—I see it in your countenance. You are trying not to smile."

"Indeed! but why so?—I can hardly imagine that any thing which pleases or amuses you, should not please and amuse me too."

"No, I have not; I know nothing; pray tell me."

"You mistake me, you quite mistake me,"

"It is not that such a circumstance would now make me unhappy, but I cannot believe it. It seems an impossibility!—You cannot mean to say, that Harriet Smith has accepted Robert Martin. You cannot mean that he has even proposed to her again— yet. You only mean, that he intends it."

"Good God!"

"Well!"—

"Well, now tell me every thing; make this intelligible to me. How, where, when?—Let me know it all. I never was more surprized—but it does not make me unhappy, I assure you.—How —how has it been possible?"

"You need not be at any pains to reconcile me to the match. I think Harriet is doing extremely well. Her connexions may be worse than his. In respectability of character, there can be no doubt that they are. I have been silent from surprize merely, excessive surprize. You cannot imagine how suddenly it has come on me! how peculiarly unprepared I was!—for I had reason to believe her very lately more determined against him, much more, than she was before."

"Upon my word, I believe you know her quite as well as I do.—But, Mr. Knightley, are you perfectly sure that she has absolutely and downright accepted him. I could suppose she might in time—but can she already?—Did not you misunderstand him?—You were both talking of other things; of business, shows of cattle, or new drills—and might not you, in the confusion of so many subjects, mistake him?—It was not Harriet's hand that he was certain of— it was the dimensions of some famous ox."

It could not be otherwise.

"Oh! I always deserve the best treatment, because I never put up with any other; and, therefore, you must give me a plain, direct answer. Are you quite sure that you understand the terms on which Mr. Martin and Harriet now are?"

"I am perfectly satisfied,"

"and most sincerely wish them happy."

"I hope so—for at that time I was a fool."

"Me!"

"Ah! poor Harriet!"

What had she to wish for? Nothing, but to grow more worthy of him, whose intentions and judgment had been ever so superior to her own. Nothing, but that the lessons of her past folly might teach her humility and circumspection in future.

She must laugh at such a close! Such an end of the doleful disappointment of five weeks back! Such a heart— such a Harriet!

Now there would be pleasure in her returning— Every thing would be a pleasure. It would be a great pleasure to know Robert Martin.

all necessity of concealment from Mr. Knightley would soon be over. The disguise, equivocation, mystery, so hateful to her to practise, might soon be over. She could now look forward to giving him that full and perfect confidence which her disposition was most ready to welcome as a duty.

"No, indeed,"

"not in the least. I am particularly glad to see and shake hands with you—and to give you joy in person."

its being pronounced in her hearing.

"I can never think of it,"

"without extreme shame."

"I never had the smallest, I assure you."

"It is not now worth a regret,"

"I have always admired her complexion,"

"but do not I remember the time when you found fault with her for being so pale?—When we first began to talk of her.—Have you quite forgotten?"

"I do suspect that in the midst of your perplexities at that time, you had very great amusement in tricking us all.—I am sure you had.—I am sure it was a consolation to you."