Austen Said:

“without thinking of the south of France.”

“Oh! No, I only mean what I have read about. It always puts me in mind of the country that Emily and her father travelled through, in The Mysteries of Udolpho. But you never read novels, I dare say?”

“Because they are not clever enough for you — gentlemen read better books.”

“I am very glad to hear it indeed, and now I shall never be ashamed of liking Udolpho myself. But I really thought before, young men despised novels amazingly.”

“Not very good, I am afraid. But now really, do not you think Udolpho the nicest book in the world?”

“I am sure,”

“I did not mean to say anything wrong; but it is a nice book, and why should not I call it so?”

“To say the truth, I do not much like any other.”

“That is, I can read poetry and plays, and things of that sort, and do not dislike travels. But history, real solemn history, I cannot be interested in. Can you?”

“I wish I were too. I read it a little as a duty, but it tells me nothing that does not either vex or weary me. The quarrels of popes and kings, with wars or pestilences, in every page; the men all so good for nothing, and hardly any women at all — it is very tiresome: and yet I often think it odd that it should be so dull, for a great deal of it must be invention. The speeches that are put into the heroes’ mouths, their thoughts and designs — the chief of all this must be invention, and invention is what delights me in other books.”

“You are fond of history! And so are Mr. Allen and my father; and I have two brothers who do not dislike it. So many instances within my small circle of friends is remarkable! At this rate, I shall not pity the writers of history any longer. If people like to read their books, it is all very well, but to be at so much trouble in filling great volumes, which, as I used to think, nobody would willingly ever look into, to be labouring only for the torment of little boys and girls, always struck me as a hard fate; and though I know it is all very right and necessary, I have often wondered at the person’s courage that could sit down on purpose to do it.”

“You think me foolish to call instruction a torment, but if you had been as much used as myself to hear poor little children first learning their letters and then learning to spell, if you had ever seen how stupid they can be for a whole morning together, and how tired my poor mother is at the end of it, as I am in the habit of seeing almost every day of my life at home, you would allow that ‘to torment’ and ‘to instruct’ might sometimes be used as synonymous words.”

It seemed as if a good view were no longer to be taken from the top of an high hill, and that a clear blue sky was no longer a proof of a fine day.

she would give anything in the world to be able to draw;

“I have heard that something very shocking indeed will soon come out in London.”

“That I do not know, nor who is the author. I have only heard that it is to be more horrible than anything we have met with yet.”

“A particular friend of mine had an account of it in a letter from London yesterday. It is to be uncommonly dreadful. I shall expect murder and everything of the kind.”

“Riot! What riot?”

Henry Tilney could never be wrong.

His manner might sometimes surprise, but his meaning must always be just:

“They set off at eight this morning,”

“and I am sure I do not envy them their drive. I think you and I are very well off to be out of the scrape. It must be the dullest thing in the world, for there is not a soul at Clifton at this time of year. Belle went with your brother, and John drove Maria.”

“Oh! yes,”

“Maria is gone. She was quite wild to go. She thought it would be something very fine. I cannot say I admire her taste; and for my part, I was determined from the first not to go, if they pressed me ever so much.”

“I wish you could have gone too. It is a pity you could not all go.”

“Thank you; but it is quite a matter of indifference to me. Indeed, I would not have gone on any account. I was saying so to Emily and Sophia when you overtook us.”

the party had not been prevented by her refusing to join it,

it might be too pleasant to allow either James or Isabella to resent her resistance any longer.

Blaize Castle had never been thought of; and, as for all the rest, there was nothing to regret for half an instant.

“She will never forgive me, I am sure; but, you know, how could I help it? John would have me go, for

he vowed

I dare say she will not be in good humour again this month; but I am determined I will not be cross; it is not a little matter that puts me out of temper.”

“Yes, my dear Catherine, it is so indeed; your penetration has not deceived you. Oh! That arch eye of yours! It sees through everything.”

“Nay, my beloved, sweetest friend,”

“compose yourself. I am amazingly agitated, as you perceive. Let us sit down and talk in comfort. Well, and so you guessed it the moment you had my note? Sly creature! Oh! My dear Catherine, you alone, who know my heart, can judge of my present happiness. Your brother is the most charming of men. I only wish I were more worthy of him. But what will your excellent father and mother say? Oh! Heavens! When I think of them I am so agitated!”

“Good heaven! My dear Isabella, what do you mean? Can you — can you really be in love with James?”

Her brother and her friend engaged!

“You will be so infinitely dearer to me, my Catherine, than either Anne or Maria: I feel that I shall be so much more attached to my dear Morland’s family than to my own.”

“You are so like your dear brother,”

“that I quite doted on you the first moment I saw you. But so it always is with me; the first moment settles everything. The very first day that Morland came to us last Christmas — the very first moment I beheld him — my heart was irrecoverably gone. I remember I wore my yellow gown, with my hair done up in braids; and when I came into the drawing-room, and John introduced him, I thought I never saw anybody so handsome before.”

the power of love;

“I remember too, Miss Andrews drank tea with us that evening, and wore her puce-coloured sarsenet; and she looked so heavenly that I thought your brother must certainly fall in love with her; I could not sleep a wink all right for thinking of it. Oh! Catherine, the many sleepless nights I have had on your brother’s account! I would not have you suffer half what I have done! I am grown wretchedly thin, I know; but I will not pain you by describing my anxiety; you have seen enough of it. I feel that I have betrayed myself perpetually — so unguarded in speaking of my partiality for the church! But my secret I was always sure would be safe with you.”

nothing could have been safer;

her father and mother would never oppose their son’s wishes.

“It is impossible,”

“for parents to be more kind, or more desirous of their children’s happiness; I have no doubt of their consenting immediately.”

“Morland says exactly the same,”

“and yet I dare not expect it; my fortune will be so small; they never can consent to it. Your brother, who might marry anybody!”

“Indeed, Isabella, you are too humble. The difference of fortune can be nothing to signify.”

“Oh! My sweet Catherine, in your generous heart I know it would signify nothing; but we must not expect such disinterestedness in many. As for myself, I am sure I only wish our situations were reversed. Had I the command of millions, were I mistress of the whole world, your brother would be my only choice.”