Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

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he thought,
It was by no means his daughter's wish that the intellects of Highbury in general should be put under requisition. Mr. Elton was the only one whose assistance she asked.
He was invited
and she had the pleasure of seeing him most intently at work with his recollections; and at the same time, as she could perceive, most earnestly careful that nothing ungallant, nothing that did not breathe a compliment to the sex should pass his lips. They owed to him their two or three politest puzzles; and the joy and exultation with which at last he recalled, and rather sentimentally recited, that well-known charade,
made her quite sorry to
acknowledge that
said she;
he stopt a moment—
The very next day however produced some proof of inspiration. He called for a few moments, just to leave a piece of paper on the table
as he said,
but which, from his manner, Emma was immediately convinced must be his own.
said he.
The speech was more to Emma than to Harriet, which
Emma could understand.
He was gone the next moment:—after another moment's pause,
said Emma, smiling, and pushing the paper towards Harriet—
But Harriet was in a tremor, and could not touch it; and Emma, never loth to be first, was obliged to examine it herself.
She cast her eye over it, pondered, caught the meaning, read it through again to be quite certain, and quite mistress of the lines, and then passing it to Harriet, sat happily smiling, and saying to herself, while Harriet was puzzling over the paper in all the confusion of hope and dulness,
She was obliged to break off from these very pleasant observations, which were otherwise of a sort to run into great length, by the eagerness of Harriet's wondering questions.
Harriet could not long resist so delightful a persuasion. She read the concluding lines, and was all flutter and happiness. She could not speak. But she was not wanted to speak. It was enough for her to feel. Emma spoke for her.
said she,
and
was all that Harriet, with many tender embraces could articulate at first; but when they did arrive at something more like conversation, it was sufficiently clear to her friend that she saw, felt, anticipated, and remembered just as she ought. Mr. Elton's superiority had very ample acknowledgment.
cried Harriet,
Harriet was too intent on the lines to hear. The most satisfactory comparisons were rising in her mind.
said she, presently— her cheeks in a glow—
Emma could not have desired a more spirited rejection of Mr. Martin's prose.
continued Harriet—
Harriet submitted, though her mind could hardly separate the parts, so as to feel quite sure that her friend were not writing down a declaration of love. It seemed too precious an offering for any degree of publicity.
said she.
replied Emma;
Harriet looked grave.
Mr. Woodhouse came in, and very soon led to the subject again, by the recurrence of his very frequent inquiry of
She read it to him, just as he liked to have any thing read, slowly and distinctly, and two or three times over, with explanations of every part as she proceeded—and he was very much pleased, and, as she had foreseen, especially struck with the complimentary conclusion.
Emma only nodded, and smiled.—After a little thinking, and a very tender sigh, he added,
(in a very depressed tone)—
Mr. Woodhouse could never allow for Mr. Knightley's claims on his brother, or any body's claims on Isabella, except his own. He sat musing a little while, and then said,
This was too true for contradiction. Unwelcome as it was, Mr. Woodhouse could only give a submissive sigh; and as Emma saw his spirits affected by the idea of his daughter's attachment to her husband, she immediately led to such a branch of the subject as must raise them.
said Emma,
Later in the morning, and just as the girls were going to separate in preparation for the regular four o'clock dinner, the hero of this inimitable charade walked in again. Harriet turned away; but Emma could receive him with the usual smile, and
her quick eye soon discerned in his
and
she imagined
His ostensible reason,
however,
was to ask
Emma
He re-urged— she re-declined; and he seemed then about to make his bow, when taking the paper from the table, she returned it—
Mr. Elton certainly did not very well know what to say. He looked rather doubtingly— rather confused; said something about "honour,"—glanced at Emma and at Harriet, and then seeing the book open on the table, took it up, and examined it very attentively. With the view of passing off an awkward moment, Emma smilingly said,
replied Mr. Elton, though hesitating a good deal while he spoke;

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