Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

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he might have the best informed mind.
all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought,
it was a favourite haunt of hers.
How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even a third.
It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance, for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her.
he was asking some odd unconnected questions — about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins's happiness;
of Rosings and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying there too.
His words seemed to imply it. Could he have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts?
if he meant anything, he must mean an allusion to what might arise in that quarter.
To interrupt a silence which might make him fancy her affected with what had passed,
she had somehow or other got pretty near the truth.
so just a picture of Mr. Darcy,
It was not to be supposed that any other people could be meant than those with whom she was connected. There could not exist in the world two men over whom Mr. Darcy could have such boundless influence.
That he had been concerned in the measures taken to separate Mr. Bingley and Jane
the principal design and arrangement of them.
If his own vanity, however, did not mislead him, he was the cause, his pride and caprice were the cause, of all that Jane had suffered, and still continued to suffer. He had ruined for a while every hope of happiness for the most affectionate, generous heart in the world; and no one could say how lasting an evil he might have inflicted.
were Colonel Fitzwilliam's words; and those strong objections probably were, her having one uncle who was a country attorney, and another who was in business in London.
any objections there had material weight with Mr. Darcy, whose pride,
would receive a deeper wound from the want of importance in his friend's connections, than from their want of sense;
he had been partly governed by this worst kind of pride, and partly by the wish of retaining Mr. Bingley for his sister.
not to attend her cousins to Rosings, where they were engaged to drink tea.
They contained no actual complaint, nor was there any revival of past occurrences, or any communication of present suffering. But in all, and in almost every line of each, there was a want of that cheerfulness which had been used to characterise her style, and which, proceeding from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself and kindly disposed towards everyone, had been scarcely ever clouded.
Mr. Darcy's shameful boast of what misery he had been able to inflict,
his visit to Rosings was to end on the day after the next
in less than a fortnight she should herself be with Jane again, , and enabled to contribute to the recovery of her spirits, by all that affection could do.
Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it clear that he had no intentions at all, and agreeable as he was, she did not mean to be unhappy about him.
he had no doubt of a favourable answer.
He spoke of apprehension and anxiety, but his countenance expressed real security.
That she should receive an offer of marriage from Mr. Darcy! That he should have been in love with her for so many months! So much in love as to wish to marry her in spite of all the objections which had made him prevent his friend's marrying her sister, and which must appear at least with equal force in his own case — was almost incredible! It was gratifying to have inspired unconsciously so strong an affection. But his pride, his abominable pride — his shameless avowal of what he had done with respect to Jane — his unpardonable assurance in acknowledging, though he could not justify it, and the unfeeling manner in which he had mentioned Mr. Wickham, his cruelty towards whom he had not attempted to deny,
soon after breakfast, to indulge herself in air and exercise.
he believed any apology to be in his power;
he could have no explanation to give, which a just sense of shame would not conceal.
she would not regard it,
would never look in it again.
The account of his connection with the Pemberley family was exactly what he had related himself; and the kindness of the late Mr. Darcy,
agreed equally well with his own words. So far each recital confirmed the other;
there was gross duplicity on one side or the other;
her wishes did not err.
On both sides it was only assertion.
less than infamous,
The extravagance and general profligacy which he scrupled not to lay at Mr. Wickham's charge,
She had never heard of him before his entrance into the ——shire Militia, in which he had engaged at the persuasion of the young man who, on meeting him accidentally in town, had there renewed a slight acquaintance. Of his former way of life nothing had been known in Hertfordshire but what he told himself. As to his real character, had information been in her power, she had never felt a wish of inquiring.
His countenance, voice, and manner had established him at once in the possession of every virtue.
Mr. Darcy would never have hazarded such a proposal, if he had not been well assured of his cousin's corroboration.
the impropriety of such communications to a stranger, and wondered it had escaped her before.
he had boasted of having no fear of seeing Mr. Darcy — that Mr. Darcy might leave the country, but that he should stand his ground; yet he had avoided the Netherfield ball the very next week.
till the Netherfield family had quitted the country, he had told his story to no one but herself; but that after their removal it had been everywhere discussed; that he had then no reserves, no scruples in sinking Mr. Darcy's character, though he had assured her that respect for the father would always prevent his exposing the son.
his eagerness to grasp at anything. His behaviour to herself could now have had no tolerable motive; he had either been deceived with regard to her fortune, or had been gratifying his vanity by encouraging the preference which
she had most incautiously shown.
Mr. Bingley, when questioned by Jane, had long ago asserted his blamelessness in the affair; that proud and repulsive as were his manners, she had never, in the whole course of their acquaintance — an acquaintance which had latterly brought them much together, and given her a sort of intimacy with his ways — seen any thing that betrayed him to be unprincipled or unjust — anything that spoke him of irreligious or immoral habits; that among his own connections he was esteemed and valued — that even Wickham had allowed him merit as a brother, and that she had often heard him speak so affectionately of his sister as to prove him capable of some amiable feeling; that had his actions been what Mr. Wickham represented them, so gross a violation of everything right could hardly have been concealed from the world; and that friendship between a person capable of it, and such an amiable man as Mr. Bingley, was incomprehensible.