Austen Said:

I should not find his master at home,

but I did not believe him.—William seemed rather out of humour.

He did not know what was come to his master lately,

he said,

but he could hardly ever get the speech of him.

I have nothing to do with William's wants, but it really is of very great importance that I should see Knightley to-day; and it becomes a matter, therefore, of very serious inconvenience that I should have had this hot walk to no purpose."

"That is,"

"she will indulge her even more than she did you, and believe that she does not indulge her at all. It will be the only difference."

"Nothing very bad.—The fate of thousands. She will be disagreeable in infancy, and correct herself as she grows older. I am losing all my bitterness against spoilt children, my dearest Emma. I, who am owing all my happiness to you, would not it be horrible ingratitude in me to be severe on them?"

"Do you?—I have no doubt. Nature gave you understanding:—Miss Taylor gave you principles. You must have done well. My interference was quite as likely to do harm as good. It was very natural for you to say, what right has he to lecture me?—and I am afraid very natural for you to feel that it was done in a disagreeable manner. I do not believe I did you any good. The good was all to myself, by making you an object of the tenderest affection to me. I could not think about you so much without doating on you, faults and all; and by dint of fancying so many errors, have been in love with you ever since you were thirteen at least."

"How often, when you were a girl, have you said to me, with one of your saucy looks—

something which, you knew, I did not approve. In such cases my interference was giving you two bad feelings instead of one."

"

You always called me,

and, from habit, it has not so very formal a sound.—And yet it is formal. I want you to call me something else, but I do not know what."

"And cannot you call me 'George' now?"

"John does not even mention your friend,"

"Here is his answer, if you like to see it."

"John enters like a brother into my happiness,"

"but he is no complimenter; and though I well know him to have, likewise, a most brotherly affection for you, he is so far from making flourishes, that any other young woman might think him rather cool in her praise. But I am not afraid of your seeing what he writes."

"My Emma, he means no such thing. He only means — —"

"Emma, my dear Emma—"

"Ah!"

"I wish your father might be half as easily convinced as John will be, of our having every right that equal worth can give, to be happy together. I am amused by one part of John's letter— — did you notice it?—where he says, that my information did not take him wholly by surprize, that he was rather in expectation of hearing something of the kind."

"Yes, yes—but I am amused that he should have seen so far into my feelings. What has he been judging by?—I am not conscious of any difference in my spirits or conversation that could prepare him at this time for my marrying any more than at another.—But it was so, I suppose. I dare say there was a difference when I was staying with them the other day. I believe I did not play with the children quite so much as usual. I remember one evening the poor boys saying, 'Uncle seems always tired now.'"

"Those matters will take care of themselves; the young people will find a way."

"It is to be a secret, I conclude,"

"These matters are always a secret, till it is found out that every body knows them. Only let me be told when I may speak out.—I wonder whether Jane has any suspicion."

"the young lady's pride would now be contented;"

"she had always meant to catch Knightley if she could;"

"Rather he than I!"—

"I have something to tell you, Emma; some news."

"I do not know which it ought to be called."

"I am afraid,"

"I am very much afraid, my dear Emma, that you will not smile when you hear it."

"There is one subject,"

"I hope but one, on which we do not think alike."

"Does nothing occur to you?—Do not you recollect?—Harriet Smith."

"Have you heard from her yourself this morning?"

"You have, I believe, and know the whole."

"You are prepared for the worst, I see— and very bad it is. Harriet Smith marries Robert Martin."

"It is so, indeed,"

"I have it from Robert Martin himself. He left me not half an hour ago."

"You like it, my Emma, as little as I feared.—I wish our opinions were the same. But in time they will. Time, you may be sure, will make one or the other of us think differently; and, in the meanwhile, we need not talk much on the subject."

"I mean that he has done it,"

"and been accepted."

"It is a very simple story. He went to town on business three days ago, and I got him to take charge of some papers which I was wanting to send to John.—He delivered these papers to John, at his chambers, and was

asked by him

to join their party the same evening to Astley's. They were going to take the two eldest boys to Astley's. The party was to be our brother and sister, Henry, John—and Miss Smith.

My friend Robert could not resist. They called for him in their way; were all extremely amused; and my brother asked him to dine with them the next day— which he did —and in the course of that visit (as I understand) he found an opportunity of speaking to Harriet; and certainly did not speak in vain.—She made him, by her acceptance, as happy even as he is deserving. He came down by yesterday's coach, and was with me this morning immediately after breakfast, to report his proceedings, first on my affairs, and then on his own. This is all that I can relate of the how, where, and when. Your friend Harriet will make a much longer history when you see her.—She will give you all the minute particulars, which only woman's language can make interesting.—In our communications we deal only in the great.—However, I must say, that Robert Martin's heart seemed for him, and to me, very overflowing; and that