Austen Said:

How the delicacy, the discretion of his favourite could have been so lain asleep!

He feared there must be some decided involvement. Disingenuousness and double dealing

at every turn. These letters were but the vehicle for gallantry and trick. It was a child's play, chosen to conceal a deeper game on Frank Churchill's part.

"Nonsense! for shame!"

"I will give it to her— shall I?"—

"No, no, you must not; you shall not, indeed."

"I did not know that proper names were allowed,"

"Aye, very true, my dear,"

"I was just going to say the same thing. It is time for us to be going indeed. The evening is closing in, and grandmama will be looking for us. My dear sir, you are too obliging. We really must wish you good night."

he must —yes, he certainly must, as a friend— an anxious friend— give Emma some hint, ask her some question. He could not see her in a situation of such danger, without trying to preserve her. It was his duty.

"Pray, Emma,"

"may I ask in what lay the great amusement, the poignant sting of the last word given to you and Miss Fairfax? I saw the word, and am curious to know how it could be so very entertaining to the one, and so very distressing to the other."

"Oh!"

"it all meant nothing; a mere joke among ourselves."

"The joke,"

"seemed confined to you and Mr. Churchill."

Interference— fruitless interference.

Yet he would speak. He owed it to her, to risk any thing that might be involved in an unwelcome interference, rather than her welfare; to encounter any thing, rather than the remembrance of neglect in such a cause.

"My dear Emma,"

"do you think you perfectly understand the degree of acquaintance between the gentleman and lady we have been speaking of?"

"Between Mr. Frank Churchill and Miss Fairfax? Oh! yes, perfectly.—Why do you make a doubt of it?"

"Have you never at any time had reason to think that he admired her, or that she admired him?"

"Never, never!"

"Never, for the twentieth part of a moment, did such an idea occur to me. And how could it possibly come into your head?"

"I have lately imagined that I saw symptoms of attachment between them— certain expressive looks, which I did not believe meant to be public."

"Oh! you amuse me excessively. I am delighted to find that you can vouchsafe to let your imagination wander—but it will not do— very sorry to check you in your first essay—but indeed it will not do. There is no admiration between them, I do assure you; and the appearances which have caught you, have arisen from some peculiar circumstances —feelings rather of a totally different nature —it is impossible exactly to explain:—there is a good deal of nonsense in it—but the part which is capable of being communicated, which is sense, is, that they are as far from any attachment or admiration for one another, as any two beings in the world can be. That is, I presume it to be so on her side, and I can answer for its being so on his. I will answer for the gentleman's indifference."

Two or three more of the chosen only were to be admitted to join them, and it was to be done in a quiet, unpretending, elegant way, infinitely superior to the bustle and preparation, the regular eating and drinking, and picnic parade of the Eltons and the Sucklings.

an arrangement which would probably expose her even to the degradation of being said to be of Mrs. Elton's party!

"You had better explore to Donwell,"

"That may be done without horses. Come, and eat my strawberries. They are ripening fast."

"I cannot name a day,"

"till I have spoken to some others whom I would wish to meet you."

"I hope you will bring Elton,"

"but I will not trouble you to give any other invitations."

"No,"—

"there is but one married woman in the world whom I can ever allow to invite what guests she pleases to Donwell, and that one is—"

"No —Mrs. Knightley;—and till she is in being, I will manage such matters myself."

"You certainly will meet them if I can prevail; and I shall call on Miss Bates in my way home."

"Not quite. My idea of the simple and the natural will be to have the table spread in the dining-room. The nature and the simplicity of gentlemen and ladies, with their servants and furniture, I think is best observed by meals within doors. When you are tired of eating strawberries in the garden, there shall be cold meat in the house."

"I have not the least wish for it, I thank you."

"I will answer for it, that mine thinks herself full as clever, and would spurn any body's assistance."

"You will not find either, between Donwell and Highbury. Donwell Lane is never dusty, and now it is perfectly dry. Come on a donkey, however, if you prefer it. You can borrow Mrs. Cole's. I would wish every thing to be as much to your taste as possible."

Mr. Woodhouse must not, under the specious pretence of a morning drive, and an hour or two spent at Donwell, be tempted away to his misery.

he should be glad to see him;

It was just what it ought to be, and it looked what it was—

as the residence of a family of such true gentility, untainted in blood and understanding.—Some faults of temper John Knightley had; but Isabella had connected herself unexceptionably. She had given them neither men, nor names, nor places, that could raise a blush.

she would not at present engage in any thing,

How Jane could bear it at all,

"Should not they walk? Would not Mr. Knightley shew them the gardens— all the gardens?—She wished to see the whole extent."—

Mr. Knightley and Harriet distinct from the rest, quietly leading the way.