Austen Said:

"There, I will stake my last like a woman of spirit. No cold prudence for me. I am not born to sit still and do nothing. If I lose the game, it shall not be from not striving for it."

"Mr. Bertram,"

"you know Henry to be such a capital improver, that you cannot possibly engage in anything of the sort at Thornton Lacey without accepting his help. Only think how useful he was at Sotherton! Only think what grand things were produced there by our all going with him one hot day in August to drive about the grounds, and see his genius take fire. There we went, and there we came home again; and what was done there is not to be told!"

"Sotherton! Yes, that is a place, indeed, and we had a charming day there. William, you are quite out of luck; but the next time you come, I hope dear Mr. and Mrs. Rushworth will be at home, and I am sure I can answer for your being kindly received by both. Your cousins are not of a sort to forget their relations, and Mr. Rushworth is a most amiable man. They are at Brighton now, you know; in one of the best houses there, as Mr. Rushworth's fine fortune gives them a right to be. I do not exactly know the distance, but when you get back to Portsmouth, if it is not very far off, you ought to go over and pay your respects to them; and I could send a little parcel by you that I want to get conveyed to your cousins."

what it would be not to see Edmund every day;

the church, sink the clergyman, and see only the respectable, elegant, modernised, and occasional residence of a man of independent fortune,

as the destroyer of all this,

It was time to have done with cards, if sermons prevailed;

"But you do not wish yourself at Portsmouth, William?"

"Oh! shame, shame! But never mind it, William"

"It is not worth minding. It is no reflection on you; it is no more than what the greatest admirals have all experienced, more or less, in their time. You must think of that, you must try to make up your mind to it as one of the hardships which fall to every sailor's share, like bad weather and hard living, only with this advantage, that there will be an end to it, that there will come a time when you will have nothing of that sort to endure. When you are a lieutenant! only think, William, when you are a lieutenant, how little you will care for any nonsense of this kind."

"Oh! my dear William, do not talk so; do not be so desponding. My uncle says nothing, but I am sure he will do everything in his power to get you made. He knows, as well as you do, of what consequence it is."

"Yes, very; only I am soon tired."

"Come, Fanny, Fanny, what are you about? We are going. Do not you see your aunt is going? Quick, quick! I cannot bear to keep good old Wilcox waiting. You should always remember the coachman and horses. My dear Sir Thomas, we have settled it that the carriage should come back for you, and Edmund and William."

"Ah, my dear Sir Thomas!"

"I knew what was coming. I knew what you were going to say. If dear Julia were at home, or dearest Mrs. Rushworth at Sotherton, to afford a reason, an occasion for such a thing, you would be tempted to give the young people a dance at Mansfield. I know you would. If they were at home to grace the ball, a ball you would have this very Christmas. Thank your uncle, William, thank your uncle!"

A ball at such a time! His daughters absent and herself not consulted!

She must be the doer of everything: Lady Bertram would of course be spared all thought and exertion, and it would all fall upon her. She should have to do the honours of the evening;

"that she was not at all afraid of the trouble; indeed, she could not imagine there would be any."

as to the rooms he would think fittest to be used,

having been on the point of proposing the 22nd herself, as by far the best day for the purpose.

"how she should be dressed"

the almost solitary ornament in her possession, a very pretty amber cross which William had brought her from Sicily,

for she had nothing but a bit of ribbon to fasten it to; and though she had worn it in that manner once, would it be allowable at such a time in the midst of all the rich ornaments which she supposed all the other young ladies would appear in? And yet not to wear it! William had wanted to buy her a gold chain too, but the purchase had been beyond his means, and therefore not to wear the cross might be mortifying him.

the dear friend's letter, which claimed a long visit from her in London,

the kindness of Henry, in engaging to remain where he was till January, that he might convey her thither;

though she felt she must go, and knew she should enjoy herself when once away, she was already looking forward to being at Mansfield again.

if she would be so kind as to give her opinion, it might be all talked over as well without doors as within.

Fanny's returning with her in a much more cordial manner than before,

their going up into her room, where they might have a comfortable coze, without disturbing Dr. and Mrs. Grant, who were together in the drawing-room.

"But what shall you have by way of necklace?"

"Shall not you wear your brother's cross?"

she did not know how either to wear the cross, or to refrain from wearing it.

to chuse from among several gold chains and necklaces.

Fanny's taking one for the cross and to keep for her sake,

"You see what a collection I have,"

"more by half than I ever use or think of. I do not offer them as new. I offer nothing but an old necklace. You must forgive the liberty, and oblige me."

The gift was too valuable.

she might not be accused of pride or indifference, or some other littleness;

to know which might be least valuable;

But this was an unworthy feeling.

Miss Crawford had anticipated her wants with a kindness which proved her a real friend.

"When I wear this necklace I shall always think of you,"

"and feel how very kind you were."

"You must think of somebody else too, when you wear that necklace,"

"You must think of Henry, for it was his choice in the first place. He gave it to me, and with the necklace I make over to you all the duty of remembering the original giver. It is to be a family remembrancer. The sister is not to be in your mind without bringing the brother too."

To take what had been the gift of another person, of a brother too, impossible! it must not be!

"My dear child,"

"what are you afraid of? Do you think Henry will claim the necklace as mine, and fancy you did not come honestly by it? or are you imagining he would be too much flattered by seeing round your lovely throat an ornament which his money purchased three years ago, before he knew there was such a throat in the world? or perhaps"—

"you suspect a confederacy between us, and that what I am now doing is with his knowledge and at his desire?"