Austen Said:

"Yes— what should hurt me?—I walk fast. I shall be at home in twenty minutes."

"Thank you, thank you —but on no account.—I would rather walk.—And for me to be afraid of walking alone!—I, who may so soon have to guard others!"

"I am,"—

"I am fatigued; but it is not the sort of fatigue—quick walking will refresh me.—Miss Woodhouse, we all know at times what it is to be wearied in spirits. Mine, I confess, are exhausted. The greatest kindness you can shew me, will be to let me have my own way, and only say that I am gone when it is necessary."

"Oh! Miss Woodhouse, the comfort of being sometimes alone!"—

"Such things do occur, undoubtedly."—

"I was only going to observe, that though such unfortunate circumstances do sometimes occur both to men and women, I cannot imagine them to be very frequent. A hasty and imprudent attachment may arise—but there is generally time to recover from it afterwards. I would be understood to mean, that it can be only weak, irresolute characters, (whose happiness must be always at the mercy of chance,) who will suffer an unfortunate acquaintance to be an inconvenience, an oppression for ever."

"Now, ma'am,"

"shall we join Mrs. Elton?"

'Well,'

'it must be borne some time or other, and it may as well be now.'

'I can see nobody,'

'You must go,'

'You and I must part. You will have no business here.—Let it stay, however,'

'give it houseroom till Colonel Campbell comes back. I shall talk about it to him; he will settle for me; he will help me out of all my difficulties.'

"Beg her to walk up;"—

"This is most kind, indeed!—Miss Woodhouse, it is impossible for me to express— I hope you will believe— Excuse me for being so entirely without words."

"Your parish there was small,"

"But it is proved by the smallness of the school, which I have heard you speak of, as under the patronage of your sister and Mrs. Bragge; the only school, and not more than five-and-twenty children."

"Oh!"

"there would have been no danger. The danger would have been of my wearying you. You could not have gratified me more than by expressing an interest—. Indeed, Miss Woodhouse,

with the consciousness which I have of misconduct, very great misconduct, it is particularly consoling to me to know that those of my friends, whose good opinion is most worth preserving, are not disgusted to such a degree as to— — I have not time for half that I could wish to say. I long to make apologies, excuses, to urge something for myself. I feel it so very due. But, unfortunately— — in short, if your compassion does not stand my friend——"

"You are very kind, but I know what my manners were to you.—So cold and artificial!—I had always a part to act.—It was a life of deceit!—I know that I must have disgusted you."

"Very."

"Oh! as to all that, of course nothing can be thought of yet. I am here till claimed by Colonel and Mrs. Campbell."

"You are very right; it has been thought of. And I will own to you, (I am sure it will be safe), that so far as our living with Mr. Churchill at Enscombe, it is settled. There must be three months, at least, of deep mourning; but when they are over, I imagine there will be nothing more to wait for."

"How you can bear such recollections, is astonishing to me!—They will sometimes obtrude— — but how you can court them!"