Austen Said:

"Mr. Knightley,"

"I am in a very extraordinary situation. I cannot let you continue in your error; and yet, perhaps, since my manners gave such an impression, I have as much reason to be ashamed of confessing that I never have been at all attached to the person we are speaking of, as it might be natural for a woman to feel in confessing exactly the reverse.—But I never have."

"I have very little to say for my own conduct.—I was tempted by his attentions, and allowed myself to appear pleased.—An old story, probably—a common case—and no more than has happened to hundreds of my sex before; and yet it may not be the more excusable in one who sets up as I do for Understanding. Many circumstances assisted the temptation. He was the son of Mr. Weston —he was continually here —I always found him very pleasant—and, in short, for

"let me swell out the causes ever so ingeniously, they all centre in this at last— my vanity was flattered, and I allowed his attentions. Latterly, however— for some time, indeed —I have had no idea of their meaning any thing.—I thought them a habit, a trick, nothing that called for seriousness on my side. He has imposed on me, but he has not injured me. I have never been attached to him. And now I can tolerably comprehend his behaviour. He never wished to attach me. It was merely a blind to conceal his real situation with another.—It was his object to blind all about him; and no one, I am sure, could be more effectually blinded than myself—except that I was not blinded— that it was my good fortune— that, in short, I was somehow or other safe from him."

"I have no doubt of their being happy together,"

"I believe them to be very mutually and very sincerely attached."

"You speak as if you envied him."

"Oh! then, don't speak it, don't speak it,"

"Take a little time, consider, do not commit yourself."

"No,"—

"I should like to take another turn. Mr. Perry is not gone."

"I stopped you ungraciously, just now, Mr. Knightley, and, I am afraid, gave you pain.—But if you have any wish to speak openly to me as a friend, or to ask my opinion of any thing that you may have in contemplation—as a friend, indeed, you may command me.—I will hear whatever you like. I will tell you exactly what I think."

"I have the greatest pleasure, my dear Emma, in forwarding to you the enclosed. I know what thorough justice you will do it, and have scarcely a doubt of its happy effect.—I think we shall never materially disagree about the writer again; but I will not delay you by a long preface.—We are quite well.—This letter has been the cure of all the little nervousness I have been feeling lately.—I did not quite like your looks on Tuesday, but it was an ungenial morning; and though you will never own being affected by weather, I think every body feels a north-east wind.—I felt for your dear father very much in the storm of Tuesday afternoon and yesterday morning, but had the comfort of hearing last night, by

Mr. Perry, that

"Not at all. I should wish it."

"And I have not forgotten,"

"how sure you were that

You pass it over very handsomely—but you were perfectly right."

"You had better go on,"

"Nay, nay, read on.—You will find how very much he suffers."

"She had engaged

and, by the bye, I wonder how Mrs. Elton bears the disappointment?"

"I wish you would read it with a kinder spirit towards him."

"You do not appear so well satisfied with his letter as I am; but still you must, at least I hope you must, think the better of him for it. I hope it does him some service with you."

"While her dear father lived, any change of condition must be impossible for her. She could never quit him."

"Ah! there is one difficulty unprovided for,"

"I am sure William Larkins will not like it. You must get his consent before you ask mine."

"Is Mr. Elton gone on foot to Donwell?—He will have a hot walk."

"Have not you mistaken the day?"

"I am almost certain that the meeting at the Crown is not till to-morrow.—Mr. Knightley was at Hartfield yesterday, and spoke of it as for Saturday."

"It is as well, perhaps, that I have not had the possibility. Had you not been surrounded by other friends, I might have been tempted to introduce a subject, to ask questions, to speak more openly than might have been strictly correct.—I feel that I should certainly have been impertinent."

"Oh! you are too scrupulous, indeed you are,"

"You owe me no apologies; and every body to whom you might be supposed to owe them, is so perfectly satisfied, so delighted even—"

"Pray say no more. I feel that all the apologies should be on my side. Let us forgive each other at once. We must do whatever is to be done quickest, and I think our feelings will lose no time there. I hope you have pleasant accounts from Windsor?"

"And the next news, I suppose, will be, that we are to lose you— — just as I begin to know you."

"Nothing can be actually settled yet, perhaps,"

"but, excuse me, it must be thought of."

"Thank you, thank you.—This is just what I wanted to be assured of.—Oh! if you knew how much I love every thing that is decided and open!—Good-bye, good-bye."

"She has had the advantage, you know, of practising on me,"

"like La Baronne d'Almane on La Comtesse d'Ostalis, in Madame de Genlis' Adelaide and Theodore, and we shall now see her own little Adelaide educated on a more perfect plan."

"Poor child!"

"at that rate, what will become of her?"

"But I had the assistance of all your endeavours to counteract the indulgence of other people. I doubt whether my own sense would have corrected me without it."

"I am sure you were of use to me,"

"I was very often influenced rightly by you— — oftener than I would own at the time. I am very sure you did me good. And if poor little Anna Weston is to be spoiled, it will be the greatest humanity in you to do as much for her as you have done for me, except falling in love with her when she is thirteen."

'Mr. Knightley, I am going to do so-and-so; papa says I may, or I have Miss Taylor's leave'

"What an amiable creature I was!—No wonder you should hold my speeches in such affectionate remembrance."

'Mr. Knightley.'

'Mr. Knightley;'

"I remember once calling you 'George,' in one of my amiable fits, about ten years ago. I did it because I thought it would offend you; but, as you made no objection, I never did it again."