Austen Said:

"Dear Miss Woodhouse!"—

"Dear Miss Woodhouse,"

"Whatever you say is always right,"

"and therefore I suppose, and believe, and hope it must be so; but otherwise I could not have imagined it. It is so much beyond any thing I deserve. Mr. Elton, who might marry any body! There cannot be two opinions about him. He is so very superior. Only think of those sweet verses—'To Miss ———.' Dear me, how clever!—Could it really be meant for me?"

"It is a sort of thing which nobody could have expected. I am sure, a month ago, I had no more idea myself!—The strangest things do take place!"

"That Mr. Elton should really be in love with me,—me, of all people, who did not know him, to speak to him, at Michaelmas! And he, the very handsomest man that ever was, and a man that every body looks up to, quite like Mr. Knightley! His company so sought after, that

every body says

that

And so excellent in the Church! Miss Nash has put down all the texts he has ever preached from since he came to Highbury. Dear me! When I look back to the first time I saw him! How little did I think!—The two Abbots and I ran into the front room and peeped through the blind when we heard he was going by, and Miss Nash came and scolded us away, and staid to look through herself; however, she called me back presently, and let me look too, which was very good-natured. And how beautiful we thought he looked!He was arm-in-arm with Mr. Cole."

"Yes, very true. How nicely you talk; I love to hear you. You understand every thing. You and Mr. Elton are one as clever as the other. This charade!—If I had studied a twelvemonth, I could never have made any thing like it."

"I do think it is, without exception, the best charade I ever read."

"It is as long again as almost all we have had before."

"It is one thing,"

"to have very good sense in a common way, like every body else, and if there is any thing to say, to sit down and write a letter, and say just what you must, in a short way; and another, to write verses and charades like this."

"Such sweet lines!"

"these two last!—But how shall I ever be able to return the paper, or say I have found it out?—Oh! Miss Woodhouse, what can we do about that?"

"Oh! Miss Woodhouse, what a pity that I must not write this beautiful charade into my book! I am sure I have not got one half so good."

"Oh! but those two lines are"—

"I shall never let that book go out of my own hands,"

"Oh! no— I hope I shall not be ridiculous about it. Do as you please."

"I dare say they are, sir. I am sure I do not know who is not."

"Oh, what a sweet house!—How very beautiful!—There are the yellow curtains that Miss Nash admires so much."

"I do so wonder, Miss Woodhouse, that you should not be married, or going to be married! so charming as you are!"—

"Ah!—so you say; but I cannot believe it."

"Dear me!—it is so odd to hear a woman talk so!"—

"But then, to be an old maid at last, like Miss Bates!"

"But still, you will be an old maid! and that's so dreadful!"

"Dear me! but what shall you do? how shall you employ yourself when you grow old?"

"Do you know Miss Bates's niece? That is, I know you must have seen her a hundred times— but are you acquainted?"

"These are the sights, Harriet, to do one good. How trifling they make every thing else appear!—I feel now as if I could think of nothing but these poor creatures all the rest of the day; and yet, who can say how soon it may all vanish from my mind?"

"Very true,"

"Poor creatures! one can think of nothing else."

"Oh! dear, no,"

"Oh! dear, yes,"

"Mr. Elton is so good to the poor!"

"Oh! Miss Woodhouse, what do you think has happened!"

"She had set out from Mrs. Goddard's half an hour ago— she had been afraid it would rain —she had been afraid it would pour down every moment—but she thought she might get to Hartfield first —she had hurried on as fast as possible; but then, as she was passing by the house where a young woman was making up a gown for her, she thought she would just step in and see how it went on; and though she did not seem to stay half a moment there, soon after she came out it began to rain, and she did not know what to do; so she ran on directly, as fast as she could, and took shelter at Ford's."—

"And so, there she had set, without an idea of any thing in the world, full ten minutes, perhaps— when, all of a sudden, who should come in— to be sure it was so very odd!—but they always dealt at Ford's —who should come in, but Elizabeth Martin and her brother!—Dear Miss Woodhouse! only think. I thought I should have fainted. I did not know what to do. I was sitting near the door— Elizabeth saw me directly; but he did not; he was busy with the umbrella. I am sure she saw me, but she looked away directly, and took no notice; and they both went to quite the farther end of the shop; and I kept sitting near the door!—Oh! dear; I was so miserable! I am sure I must have been as white as my gown. I could not go away you know, because of the rain; but I did so wish myself anywhere in the world but there.—Oh! dear, Miss Woodhouse— well, at last, I fancy, he looked round and saw me; for instead of going on with her buyings, they began whispering to one another. I am sure they were talking of me; and I could not help thinking that he was persuading her to speak to me—(do you think he was, Miss Woodhouse?)—for presently she came forward— came quite up to me, and

asked me

and seemed ready to shake hands, if I would. She did not do any of it in the same way that she used; I could see she was altered; but, however, she seemed to try to be very friendly, and we shook hands, and stood talking some time; but I know no more what I said—I was in such a tremble! —I remember

she said

which I thought almost too kind! Dear, Miss Woodhouse, I was absolutely miserable! By that time, it was beginning to hold up, and I was determined that nothing should stop me from getting away—and then— only think!—I found he was coming up towards me too— slowly you know, and as if he did not quite know what to do; and so he came and spoke, and I answered—and I stood for a minute, feeling dreadfully, you know, one can't tell how; and then I took courage, and said it did not rain, and I must go; and so off I set; and I had not got three yards from the door, when he came after me, only

to say,

Oh! dear, I thought it would have been the death of me! So I said, I was very much obliged to him: you know I could not do less; and then he went back to Elizabeth, and I came round by the stables— I believe I did—but I hardly knew where I was, or any thing about it. Oh! Miss Woodhouse, I would rather done any thing than have it happen: and yet, you know, there was a sort of satisfaction in seeing him behave so pleasantly and so kindly. And Elizabeth, too. Oh! Miss Woodhouse, do talk to me and make me comfortable again."

"very true,"

"would not think about it;"

"Only to be sure it was paying him too great a compliment, but she did think there were some looks a little like Mr. Elton."

"Oh! if I could but play as well as you and Miss Fairfax!"

"Oh! dear—I think you play the best of the two. I think you play quite as well as she does. I am sure I had much rather hear you. Every body last night said how well you played."

"Well, I always shall think that you play quite as well as she does, or that if there is any difference nobody would ever find it out.