Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

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“Write to me very often, my dear.”
“I often think,”
“that there is nothing so bad as parting with one's friends. One seems so forlorn without them.”
“It is no such thing. Lydia does not leave me because she is married, but only because her husband's regiment happens to be so far off. If that had been nearer, she would not have gone so soon.”
“Well, well, and so Mr. Bingley is coming down, sister,”
“Well, so much the better. Not that I care about it, though. He is nothing to us, you know, and I am sure I never want to see him again. But, however, he is very welcome to come to Netherfield, if he likes it. And who knows what may happen? But that is nothing to us. You know, sister, we agreed long ago never to mention a word about it. And so, is it quite certain he is coming?”
“As soon as ever Mr. Bingley comes, my dear,”
“you will wait on him of course.”
“Well, all I know is, that it will be abominably rude if you do not wait on him. But, however, that shan't prevent my asking him to dine here, I am determined. We must have Mrs. Long and the Gouldings soon. That will make thirteen with ourselves, so there will be just room at table for him.”
“Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I suppose; I am sure I do not know.”
“Good gracious! Mr. Darcy! — and so it does, I vow. Well, any friend of Mr. Bingley's will always be welcome here, to be sure; but else I must say that I hate the very sight of him.”
“It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away,”
“I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People did say you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood, since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled. And one of my own daughters. I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have seen it in the papers. It was in The Times and The Courier, I know; though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, ‘Lately, George Wickham, Esq. to Miss Lydia Bennet,’ without there being a syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or anything. It was my brother Gardiner's drawing up too, and I wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?”
“It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married,” continued her mother, “but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken such a way from me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a place quite northward, it seems, and there they are to stay I do not know how long. His regiment is there; for I suppose you have heard of his leaving the ——shire, and of his being gone into the regulars. Thank Heaven! he has some friends, though perhaps not so many as he deserves.”
“When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley,”
“I beg you will come here, and shoot as many as you please on Mr. Bennet's manor. I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and will save all the best of the covies for you.”
“You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley,”
“for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with us, as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you, I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement.”
“Well girls,”
“What say you to the day? I think every thing has passed off uncommonly well, I assure you. The dinner was as well dressed as any I ever saw. The venison was roasted to a turn — and everybody said they never saw so fat a haunch. The soup was fifty times better than what we had at the Lucases' last week; and even
Mr. Darcy acknowledged, that
and I suppose he has two or three French cooks at least. And, my dear Jane, I never saw you look in greater beauty. Mrs. Long said so too, for I asked her whether you did not. And what do you think she said besides?
She did indeed. I do think Mrs. Long is as good a creature as ever lived — and her nieces are very pretty behaved girls, and not at all handsome: I like them prodigiously.”
“Next time you call,”
“I hope we shall be more lucky.”
“Can you come to-morrow?”
“My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. He is come — Mr. Bingley is come. He is, indeed. Make haste, make haste. Here, Sarah, come to Miss Bennet this moment, and help her on with her gown. Never mind Miss Lizzy's hair.”
“Oh! hang Kitty! what has she to do with it? Come be quick, be quick! Where is your sash, my dear?”
“Nothing child, nothing. I did not wink at you.”
“Come here, my love, I want to speak to you,”
“Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you.”
“We may as well leave them by themselves you know;”
"Kitty and I are going upstairs to sit in my dressing-room.”
“Exceed their income! My dear Mr. Bennet,”
“what are you talking of? Why, he has four or five thousand a year, and very likely more.”
“Oh! my dear, dear Jane, I am so happy! I am sure I shan't get a wink of sleep all night. I knew how it would be. I always said it must be so, at last. I was sure you could not be so beautiful for nothing! I remember, as soon as ever I saw him, when he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I thought how likely it was that you should come together. Oh! he is the handsomest young man that ever was seen!”
“Yes, madam,”
"She is my youngest girl but one. My youngest of all is lately married, and my eldest is somewhere about the grounds, walking with a young man, who, I believe, will soon become a part of the family."
“It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my lady, I dare say; but I assure you it is much larger than Sir William Lucas's.”
“May I take the liberty of asking your ladyship whether you left Mr. and Mrs. Collins well.”
“Go, my dear,”
“and show her ladyship about the different walks. I think she will be pleased with the hermitage.”
“She is a very fine-looking woman! and her calling here was prodigiously civil! for she only came, I suppose, to tell us the Collinses were well. She is on her road somewhere, I dare say, and so, passing through Meryton, thought she might as well call on you. I suppose she had nothing particular to say to you, Lizzy?”
“Good gracious!”
“if that disagreeable Mr. Darcy is not coming here again with our dear Bingley! What can he mean by being so tiresome as to be always coming here? I had no notion but he would go a-shooting, or something or other, and not disturb us with his company. What shall we do with him? Lizzy, you must walk out with him again, that he may not be in Bingley's way.”
“I advise Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty,”
“to walk to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a nice long walk, and Mr. Darcy has never seen the view.”
“I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced to have that disagreeable man all to yourself. But I hope you will not mind it: it is all for Jane's sake, you know; and there is no occasion for talking to him, except just now and then. So, do not put yourself to inconvenience.”
“Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think! dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would have thought it! And is it really true? Oh! my sweetest Lizzy! how rich and how great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages you will have! Jane's is nothing to it — nothing at all. I am so pleased — so happy. Such a charming man! — so handsome! so tall! — Oh, my dear Lizzy! pray apologise for my having disliked him so much before. I hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Every thing that is charming! Three daughters married! Ten thousand a year! Oh, Lord! What will become of me. I shall go distracted.”
“My dearest child,”