Austen Said:

He declares himself, that

and,

that

Now, I cannot help thinking it a pity that he does not live entirely by the sea. I do think he had better leave Uppercross entirely, and fix at Lyme. Do not you, Anne? Do not you agree with me, that it is the best thing he could do, both for himself and Mrs Shirley? She has cousins here, you know, and many acquaintance, which would make it cheerful for her, and I am sure she would be glad to get to a place where she could have medical attendance at hand, in case of his having another seizure. Indeed I think it quite melancholy to have such excellent people as Dr and Mrs Shirley, who have been doing good all their lives, wearing out their last days in a place like Uppercross, where, excepting our family, they seem shut out from all the world. I wish his friends would propose it to him. I really think they ought. And, as to procuring a dispensation, there could be no difficulty at his time of life, and with his character. My only doubt is, whether anything could persuade him to leave his parish. He is so very strict and scrupulous in his notions; over-scrupulous I must say. Do not you think, Anne, it is being over-scrupulous? Do not you think it is quite a mistaken point of conscience, when a clergyman sacrifices his health for the sake of duties, which may be just as well performed by another person? And at Lyme too, only seventeen miles off, he would be near enough to hear, if people thought there was anything to complain of."

saw how very desirable it was that he should have some active, respectable young man, as a resident curate,

at the advantage of such resident curate's being married.

"I wish,"

"I wish Lady Russell lived at Uppercross, and were intimate with Dr Shirley. I have always heard of Lady Russell as a woman of the greatest influence with everybody! I always look upon her as able to persuade a person to anything! I am afraid of her, as I have told you before, quite afraid of her, because she is so very clever; but I respect her amazingly, and wish we had such a neighbour at Uppercross."

the course of events and the new interests of Henrietta's views should have placed her friend at all in favour with any of the Musgrove family;

such another woman were at Uppercross,

"That man is struck with you, and even I, at this moment, see something like Anne Elliot again."

she should like to know who he was.

"Ah!"

"it is the very man we passed."

"Pray,"

"can you tell us the name of the gentleman who is just gone away?"

"Putting all these very extraordinary circumstances together,"

"we must consider it to be the arrangement of Providence, that you should not be introduced to your cousin."

their father and Mr Elliot had not, for many years, been on such terms as to make the power of attempting an introduction at all desirable.

She would not, upon any account, mention her having met with him the second time; luckily Mary did not much attend to their having passed close by him in their earlier walk, but she would have felt quite ill-used by Anne's having actually run against him in the passage, and received his very polite excuses, while she had never been near him at all;

no, that cousinly little interview must remain a perfect secret.

Lord Byron's "dark blue seas"

the jar too great;

"Is there no one to help me?"

"Oh God! her father and mother!"

"True, true, a surgeon this instant,"

"Yes, yes, to the inn,"

"I will carry her myself. Musgrove, take care of the others."

"Thank God!"

"We must be decided, and without the loss of another minute. Every minute is valuable. Some one must resolve on being off for Uppercross instantly. Musgrove, either you or I must go."

"Then it is settled, Musgrove,"

"that you stay, and that I take care of your sister home. But as to the rest, as to the others, if one stays to assist Mrs Harville, I think it need be only one. Mrs Charles Musgrove will, of course, wish to get back to her children; but if Anne will stay, no one so proper, so capable as Anne."

"You will stay, I am sure; you will stay and nurse her;"

most willing, ready, happy to remain.

it would be much better for him to take a chaise from the inn, and leave Mr Musgrove's carriage and horses to be sent home the next morning early, when there would be the farther advantage of sending an account of Louisa's night.

it might, perhaps, be the occasion of continuing their acquaintance

she was valued only as she could be useful to Louisa.

he would not long be so unjust as to suppose she would shrink unnecessarily from the office of a friend.

"Don't talk of it, don't talk of it,"

"Oh God! that I had not given way to her at the fatal moment! Had I done as I ought! But so eager and so resolute! Dear, sweet Louisa!"

whether it ever occurred to him now, to question the justness of his own previous opinion as to the universal felicity and advantage of firmness of character; and whether it might not strike him that, like all other qualities of the mind, it should have its proportions and limits.

it could scarcely escape him to feel that a persuadable temper might sometimes be as much in favour of happiness as a very resolute character.

"I have been considering what we had best do. She must not appear at first. She could not stand it. I have been thinking whether you had not better remain in the carriage with her, while I go in and break it to Mr and Mrs Musgrove. Do you think this is a good plan?"

She did:

his intention of returning in the same carriage to Lyme;

A few days had made a change indeed!

If Louisa recovered, it would all be well again. More than former happiness would be restored. There could not be a doubt,

there was none, of what would follow her recovery. A few months hence, and the room now so deserted, occupied but by her silent, pensive self, might be filled again with all that was happy and gay, all that was glowing and bright in prosperous love, all that was most unlike Anne Elliot!

Scenes had passed in Uppercross which made it precious. It stood the record of many sensations of pain, once severe, but now softened; and of some instances of relenting feeling, some breathings of friendship and reconciliation, which could never be looked for again, and which could never cease to be dear.

connecting them with the silent admiration of her cousin, and