Austen Said:

he would part with his black mare.

it must be by some attack of Mrs. Churchill that he was prevented coming.—

Miss Woodhouse was the very person she was in quest of.

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 she talked of it— — with what candour and generosity. I wish you could have heard her honouring your forbearance, in being able to pay her such attentions, as she was for ever receiving from yourself and your father, when her society must be so irksome."

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;

As a daughter, she hoped she was not without a heart. She hoped no one could have said to her, "How could you be so unfeeling to your father?—I must, I will tell you truths while I can." Miss Bates should never again— no, never! If attention, in future, could do away the past, she might hope to be forgiven. She had been often remiss,

remiss, perhaps, more in thought than fact; scornful, ungracious. But it should be so no more. In the warmth of true contrition, she would call upon her the very next morning, and it should be the beginning, on her side, of a regular, equal, kindly intercourse.

It was not unlikely,

that she might see Mr. Knightley in her way; or, perhaps, he might come in while she were paying her visit. She had no objection. She would not be ashamed of the appearance of the penitence, so justly and truly hers.

she would be pleased to wait a moment, and then ushered her in too soon. The aunt and niece seemed both escaping into the adjoining room. Jane she had a distinct glimpse of, looking extremely ill; and, before the door had shut them out, she heard Miss Bates saying,

she shall soon be well.

wishing that the circumstances which she collected from Miss Bates to be now actually determined on, might be as much for Miss Fairfax's advantage and comfort as possible.

she was quite decided against accepting the offer, and for the reasons you mention; exactly as you say, she had made up her mind to close with nothing till Colonel Campbell's return, and nothing should induce her to enter into any engagement at present—

she would not write any such denial

she would wait—

upon thinking over the advantages of Mrs. Smallridge's situation, she had come to the resolution of accepting it.—

she would not let him off,

Except the Sucklings and Bragges, there is not such another nursery establishment, so liberal and elegant, in all Mrs. Elton's acquaintance. Mrs. Smallridge, a most delightful woman!—A style of living almost equal to Maple Grove—and as to the children, except the little Sucklings and little Bragges, there are not such elegant sweet children anywhere. Jane will be treated with such regard and kindness!—It will be nothing but pleasure, a life of pleasure.—

she is sure they will; but yet, this is such a situation as she cannot feel herself justified in declining.

The contrast between Mrs. Churchill's importance in the world, and Jane Fairfax's,

one was every thing, the other nothing—

Time, however,

would tell him that they ought to be friends again.

He would have judged better,

if he had not stopped.—

nothing became him more.—It was with him, of so simple, yet so dignified a nature.—

It spoke such perfect amity.—

she wished she had left her ten minutes earlier;—it would have been a great pleasure to talk over Jane Fairfax's situation with Mr. Knightley.—

but it might have happened at a better time—and to have had longer notice of it, would have been pleasanter.—

It was a pity that she had not come back earlier!

how Frank might be affected by the event, how benefited, how freed.

Now, an attachment to Harriet Smith would have nothing to encounter. Mr. Churchill, independent of his wife, was feared by nobody; an easy, guidable man, to be persuaded into any thing by his nephew. All that remained to be wished was, that the nephew should form the attachment,

to be of use to her;

to shew a value for her society, and testify respect and consideration.

to prevail on her to spend a day at Hartfield.

To take her —be it only an hour or two —from her aunt, to give her change of air and scene, and quiet rational conversation, even for an hour or two, might do her good;

she would call for her in the carriage at any hour that Jane would name—

she had Mr. Perry's decided opinion, in favour of such exercise for his patient.

her own note had deserved something better;

thinking an airing might be of the greatest service—

Jane was quite unpersuadable; the mere proposal of going out seemed to make her worse.—

Jane would hardly eat any thing:—Mr. Perry recommended nourishing food; but every thing they could command (and never had any body such good neighbours) was distasteful.

that she was not at all in want of any thing."