Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

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“I must ask whether you were surprised?”
“That is to say, you had given your permission. I guessed as much.”
“Did you speak from your own observation,”
“when you told him that my sister loved him, or merely from my information last spring?”
“And your assurance of it, I suppose, carried immediate conviction to him.”
Mr. Bingley had been a most delightful friend; so easily guided that his worth was invaluable;
he had yet to learn to be laughed at, and it was rather too early to begin.
“My dear Lizzy, where can you have been walking to?”
they had wandered about,
would be felt in the family when her situation became known;
no one liked him but Jane;
with the others it was a dislike which not all his fortune and consequence might do away.
“You are joking, Lizzy. This cannot be! — engaged to Mr. Darcy! No, no, you shall not deceive me. I know it to be impossible.”
“This is a wretched beginning indeed! My sole dependence was on you; and I am sure nobody else will believe me, if you do not. Yet, indeed, I am in earnest. I speak nothing but the truth. He still loves me, and we are engaged.”
“Oh, Lizzy! it cannot be. I know how much you dislike him.”
“You know nothing of the matter. That is all to be forgot. Perhaps I did not always love him so well as I do now. But in such cases as these, a good memory is unpardonable. This is the last time I shall ever remember it myself.”
Good Heaven! can it be really so! Yet now I must believe you,”
“My dear, dear Lizzy, I would — I do congratulate you — but are you certain? forgive the question — are you quite certain that you can be happy with him?”
“There can be no doubt of that. It is settled between us already, that we are to be the happiest couple in the world. But are you pleased, Jane? Shall you like to have such a brother?”
“Very, very much. Nothing could give either Bingley or myself more delight. But we considered it, we talked of it as impossible. And do you really love him quite well enough? Oh, Lizzy! do anything rather than marry without affection. Are you quite sure that you feel what you ought to do?”
“Oh, yes! You will only think I feel more than I ought to do, when I tell you all.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why, I must confess that I love him better than I do Bingley. I am afraid you will be angry.”
“My dearest sister, now be be serious. I want to talk very seriously. Let me know every thing that I am to know, without delay. Will you tell me how long you have loved him?”
“It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began. But I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds at Pemberley.”
she would be serious,
“Now I am quite happy,”
“for you will be as happy as myself. I always had a value for him. Were it for nothing but his love of you, I must always have esteemed him; but now, as Bingley's friend and your husband, there can be only Bingley and yourself more dear to me. But Lizzy, you have been very sly, very reserved with me. How little did you tell me of what passed at Pemberley and Lambton! I owe all that I know of it to another, not to you.”
She had been unwilling to mention Bingley; and the unsettled state of her own feelings had made her equally avoid the name of his friend. But now she would no longer conceal from her his share in Lydia's marriage.
at so convenient a proposal;
her mother should be always giving him such an epithet.
she had rather stay at home.
how her mother would take it;
whether all his wealth and grandeur would be enough to overcome her abhorrence of the man. But whether she were violently set against the match, or violently delighted with it, it was certain that her manner would be equally ill adapted to do credit to her sense;
Mr. Darcy should hear the first raptures of her joy, than the first vehemence of her disapprobation.
but he was going to be made unhappy; and that it should be through her means — that she, his favourite child, should be distressing him by her choice, should be filling him with fears and regrets in disposing of her —
her former opinions had been more reasonable, her expressions more moderate!
“Have you any other objection,”
“than your belief of my indifference?”
“I do, I do like him,”
“I love him. Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly amiable. You do not know what he really is; then pray do not pain me by speaking of him in such terms.”
Mr. Darcy was really the object of her choice,
the gradual change which her estimation of him had undergone,
her absolute certainty that his affection was not the work of a day, but had stood the test of many months' suspense,
what Mr. Darcy had voluntarily done for Lydia.
Every thing was too recent for gaiety,
there was no longer anything material to be dreaded, and the comfort of ease and familiarity would come in time.
such an effusion was heard only by herself,
though in the certain possession of his warmest affection, and secure of her relations' consent, there was still something to be wished for.
“How could you begin?”