Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

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"My dear Jane, say no more about it. The thing is determined, that is
(laughing affectedly)
as far as I can presume to determine any thing without the concurrence of my lord and master. You know, Mrs. Weston, you and I must be cautious how we express ourselves. But I do flatter myself, my dear Jane, that my influence is not entirely worn out. If I meet with no insuperable difficulties therefore, consider that point as settled."
"Excuse me,"
said Jane earnestly,
"I cannot by any means consent to such an arrangement, so needlessly troublesome to your servant. If the errand were not a pleasure to me, it could be done, as it always is when I am not here, by my grandmama's."
"Oh! my dear; but so much as Patty has to do!—And it is a kindness to employ our men."
Jane looked as if she did not mean to be conquered; but instead of answering, she began speaking again to Mr. John Knightley.
"The post-office is a wonderful establishment!"
said she.—
"The regularity and despatch of it! If one thinks of all that it has to do, and all that it does so well, it is really astonishing!"
"It is certainly very well regulated."
"So seldom that any negligence or blunder appears! So seldom that a letter, among the thousands that are constantly passing about the kingdom, is even carried wrong—and not one in a million, I suppose, actually lost! And when one considers the variety of hands, and of bad hands too, that are to be deciphered, it increases the wonder."
"The clerks grow expert from habit.—They must begin with some quickness of sight and hand, and exercise improves them. If you want any farther explanation,"
continued he, smiling,
"they are paid for it. That is the key to a great deal of capacity. The public pays and must be served well."
The varieties of handwriting
were farther talked of,
and the usual observations made.
"I have heard it asserted,"
said John Knightley,
"that the same sort of handwriting often prevails in a family; and where the same master teaches, it is natural enough. But for that reason, I should imagine the likeness must be chiefly confined to the females, for boys have very little teaching after an early age, and scramble into any hand they can get. Isabella and Emma, I think, do write very much alike. I have not always known their writing apart."
"Yes,"
said his brother hesitatingly,
"there is a likeness. I know what you mean— but Emma's hand is the strongest."
"Isabella and Emma both write beautifully,"
said Mr. Woodhouse;
"and always did. And so does poor Mrs. Weston"—
with half a sigh and half a smile at her.
"I never saw any gentleman's handwriting"—
Emma began, looking also at Mrs. Weston; but stopped,
on perceiving that
Mrs. Weston was attending to some one else—
and the pause gave her time to reflect,
"Now, how am I going to introduce him?—Am I unequal to speaking his name at once before all these people? Is it necessary for me to use any roundabout phrase?—Your Yorkshire friend— your correspondent in Yorkshire;—that would be the way, I suppose, if I were very bad.—No, I can pronounce his name without the smallest distress. I certainly get better and better.—Now for it."
Mrs. Weston was disengaged and Emma began again—
"Mr. Frank Churchill writes one of the best gentleman's hands I ever saw."
"I do not admire it,"
said Mr. Knightley.
"It is too small —wants strength. It is like a woman's writing."
This was not submitted to by either lady. They vindicated him against the base aspersion. "No, it by no means wanted strength— it was not a large hand, but very clear and certainly strong. Had not Mrs. Weston any letter about her to produce?" No, she had heard from him very lately, but having answered the letter, had put it away.
"If we were in the other room,"
said Emma,
"if I had my writing-desk, I am sure I could produce a specimen. I have a note of his.—Do not you remember, Mrs. Weston, employing him to write for you one day?"
"He chose to say
he was employed"—
"Well, well, I have that note; and can shew it after dinner to convince Mr. Knightley."
"Oh! when a gallant young man, like Mr. Frank Churchill,"
said Mr. Knightley dryly,
"writes to a fair lady like Miss Woodhouse, he will, of course, put forth his best."

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