Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

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"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."
"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."
"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."
"I do not think it is so very small. We shall not be many, you know."
"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."
"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."
"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."
"I should not wonder,"
"if Miss Fairfax were to have been drawn on beyond her own inclination, by her aunt's eagerness in accepting Mrs. Elton's civilities for her. Poor Miss Bates may very likely have committed her niece and hurried her into a greater appearance of intimacy than her own good sense would have dictated, in spite of the very natural wish of a little change."
"Why, really, dear Emma, I say that he is so very much occupied by the idea of not being in love with her, that I should not wonder if it were to end in his being so at last. Do not beat me."
"My advice,"
"I certainly do feel tempted to give. Miss Fairfax, you must not run such risks.—Liable as you have been to severe colds, indeed you ought to be particularly careful, especially at this time of year. The spring I always think requires more than common care. Better wait an hour or two, or even half a day for your letters, than run the risk of bringing on your cough again. Now do not you feel that you had? Yes, I am sure you are much too reasonable. You look as if you would not do such a thing again."
"He chose to say
"Do not you dance, Mr. Elton?"
"Me!—oh! no —I would get you a better partner than myself. I am no dancer."
"Mrs. Gilbert does not mean to dance, but there is a young lady disengaged whom I should be very glad to see dancing— — Miss Smith."
"I did not know that he ever had any such plan."
"Me! impossible!"
"Upon my word I never heard of it till this moment."
"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."—
"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."
"Engaged since October,—secretly engaged.—It has hurt me, Emma, very much. It has hurt his father equally. Some part of his conduct we cannot excuse."
"Mr. Weston will be almost as much relieved as myself,"
"On this point we have been wretched. It was our darling wish that you might be attached to each other—and we were persuaded that it was so.— Imagine what we have been feeling on your account."
"From something that he said, my dear Emma, I rather imagine —"