Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels


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Should she proceed no farther?—should she let it pass, and seem to suspect nothing?—Perhaps Harriet might think her cold or angry if she did; or perhaps if she were totally silent, it might only drive Harriet into asking her to hear too much;
Plain dealing was always best.
Its tendency would be to raise and refine her mind— and it must be saving her from the danger of degradation.
That Emma was his object appeared indisputable. Every thing declared it; his own attentions, his father's hints, his mother-in-law's guarded silence; it was all in unison; words, conduct, discretion, and indiscretion, told the same story.
suspect him of some inclination to trifle with Jane Fairfax.
He could not understand it; but there were symptoms of intelligence between them— he thought so at least —symptoms of admiration on his side, which, having once observed, he could not persuade himself to think entirely void of meaning, however he might wish to escape any of Emma's errors of imagination.
there being a something of private liking, of private understanding even, between Frank Churchill and Jane.
to go in and drink tea with him.
dear Miss Woodhouse's most obliging invitation.
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.
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.
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.
Her introductions and recommendations must all wait, and every projected party be still only talked of.
every thing need not be put off. Why should not they explore to Box Hill though the Sucklings did not come? They could go there again with them in the autumn.
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.
he had been proposing to Mrs. Elton, as her brother and sister had failed her, that the two parties should unite, and go together;
as Mrs. Elton had very readily acceded to it, so it was to be, if she had no objection.
an arrangement which would probably expose her even to the degradation of being said to be of Mrs. Elton's party!
to have no one preferred to herself.—
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.
to get Frank over to join them, if possible;
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.
if he were come—
she was a little uneasy.—She had some fears of his horse.
a most desirable situation, was in question. Mrs. Elton had received notice of it that morning, and was in raptures. It was not with Mrs. Suckling, it was not with Mrs. Bragge, but in felicity and splendour it fell short only of them: it was with a cousin of Mrs. Bragge, an acquaintance of Mrs. Suckling, a lady known at Maple Grove. Delightful, charming, superior, first circles, spheres, lines, ranks, every thing—
she would not at present engage in any thing,
being authorised to write an acquiescence by the morrow's post.—
How Jane could bear it at all,
Mr. Knightley and Harriet distinct from the rest, quietly leading the way.
Mr. Knightley and Harriet!—
It was an odd tete-a-tete; but she was glad to see it.—There had been a time when he would have scorned her as a companion, and turned from her with little ceremony. Now they seemed in pleasant conversation.
It was too old a story.—Robert Martin had probably ceased to think of Harriet.—
he would part with his black mare.
it must be by some attack of Mrs. Churchill that he was prevented coming.—
Mrs. Weston had been shewing them all to him, and now he would shew them all to Emma;—
Miss Woodhouse was the very person she was in quest of.
He had been detained by a temporary increase of illness in her; a nervous seizure, which had lasted some hours—and he had quite given up every thought of coming, till very late;—and had he known how hot a ride he should have, and how late, with all his hurry, he must be, he believed he should not have come at all. The heat was excessive; he had never suffered any thing like it— almost wished he had staid at home— nothing killed him like heat— he could bear any degree of cold, etc., but heat was intolerable—
Some people were always cross when they were hot.
his taking some refreshment; he would find abundance of every thing in the dining-room—
her acceptance;
While he was so dull, it was no wonder that Harriet should be dull likewise; and they were both insufferable.
Would not Harriet be the very creature described? Hazle eyes excepted, two years more might make her all that he wished. He might even have Harriet in his thoughts at the moment; who could say? Referring the education to her seemed to imply it.
Such another scheme, composed of so many ill-assorted people, she hoped never to be betrayed into again.
How could she have been so brutal, so cruel to Miss Bates! How could she have exposed herself to such ill opinion in any one she valued! And how suffer him to leave her without saying one word of gratitude, of concurrence, of common kindness!
it was a morning more completely misspent, more totally bare of rational satisfaction at the time, and more to be abhorred in recollection, than any she had ever passed. A whole evening of back-gammon with her father, was felicity to it. There, indeed, lay real pleasure, for there she was giving up the sweetest hours of the twenty-four to his comfort;