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they were both perfectly satisfied that it could be from only one quarter;--of course it must be from Colonel Campbell. 　　 "One can suppose nothing else," added Mrs. Cole, "and I was only surprized that there could ever have been a doubt. But Jane, it seems, had a letter from them very lately, and not a word was said about it. She knows their ways best; but I should not consider their silence as any reason for their not meaning to make the present. They might
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chuse to surprize her." 　　 Mrs. Cole had many to agree with her; every body who spoke on the subject was equally convinced that it must come from Colonel Campbell, and equally rejoiced that such a present had been made; and there were enough ready to speak to allow Emma to think her own way, and still listen to Mrs. Cole. 　　 "I declare, I do not know when I have heard any thing that has given me more satisfaction!--It always has quite hurt me that Jane Fairfax, who plays so delightfully, should not

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of perfect amity. Emma felt they were friends again; and the conviction giving her at first great satisfaction, and then a little sauciness, she could not help saying, as he was admiring the baby, 　　 "What a comfort it is, that we think alike about our nephews and nieces. As to men and women, our opinions are sometimes very different; but with regard to these children, I observe we never disagree." 　　 "If you were as much guided by nature in you
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r estimate of men and women, and as little under the power of fancy and whim in your dealings with them, as you are where these children are concerned, we might always think alike." 　　 "To be sure--our discordancies must always arise from my being in the wrong." 　　 "Yes," said he, smiling--"and reason good. I was sixteen years old when you were born."

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¡¡¡¡The daughter had sat quite silent and still during this speech, with her eyes fixed on the ground; her cousin standing near her, and looking on the ground too. She now said very softly, in a trembling voice: ¡¡¡¡'Mama, I hope you have finished?' 'No, my dear Annie,' returned the Old Soldier, 'I have not quite finished. Since you ask me, my love, I reply that I have not. I complain that you really are a little unnatural towards your own family; and, as it is of no use complaining to you. I mean to complain to your husband. Now, my dear Doctor, do look at that silly wife of yours.' ¡¡¡¡As the Doctor turned his kind face, with its smile of simplicity and gentleness, towards her, she drooped her head more. I noticed that Mr. Wickfield looked at her steadily. ¡¡¡¡'When I happened to
oil painting say to that naughty thing, the other day,' pursued her mother, shaking her head and her fan at her, playfully, 'that there was a family circumstance she might mention to you - indeed, I think, was bound to mention - she said, that to mention it was to ask a favour; and that, as you were too generous, and as for her to ask was always to have, she wouldn't.' ¡¡¡¡'Annie, my dear,' said the Doctor. 'That was wrong. It robbed me of a pleasure.' ¡¡¡¡'Almost the very words I said to her!' exclaimed her mother. 'Now really, another time, when I know what she would tell you but for this reason, and won't, I have a great mind, my dear Doctor, to tell you myself.' ¡¡¡¡'I shall be glad if you will,' returned the Doctor. ¡¡¡¡'Shall I?' ¡¡¡¡'Certainly.' ¡¡¡¡'Well, then, I will!' said the Old Soldier. 'That's a bargain.' And having, I suppose, carried her point, she tapped the Doctor's hand several times with her fan (which she kissed first), and returned triumphantly to her former station.

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highest opinion. In understanding, Darcy was the superior. Bingley was by no means deficient, but Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well bred, were not inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley was sure of being liked wherever he appeared; Darcy was continually giving offence. ¡¡¡¡The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was sufficiently characteristic. Bingley had never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls in his life; every body had been most kind and attentive to him, there had been no formality, no stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted with all the room; and as to Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel more beautiful. Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention or pleasure. Miss Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty, but she smiled too much. ¡¡¡¡Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so -- but still they admired her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet girl, and one whom they should not object to know more of. Miss Bennet was therefore established as a sweet girl, and their brother felt authorised by such commendation to think of her as he chose.

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From this time I confess I had a Mind to venture over, and see if I could possibly joyn with these Bearded-men, who I made no doubt were Spaniards or Portuguese; not doubting but if I could we might find some Method to Escape from thence, being upon the Continent, and a good Company together, better than I could from an Island 40 Miles off the Shore, and alone without Help. So after some Days I took Friday to work again, by way of Discourse, and told him I would give him a Boat to go back to his own Nation; and accordingly I carry'd him to my Frigate which lay on the other Side of the Island, and having clear'd it of Water, for I always kept it sunk in the Water, I brought it out, shewed it him, and we both went into it.
I found he was a most dextrous Fellow at managing it, would make it go almost as swift and fast again as I could; so when he was in, I said to him, Well now, Friday, shall we go to your Nation? He look'd very dull at my saying so, which it seems was, because he thought the Boat too small to go so far. I told him then I had a bigger; so the next Day I went to the Place where the first Boat lay which I had made, but which I could not get into Water: He said that was big enough; but then as I had taken no Care of it, and it had lain two or three and twenty Years there, the Sun had split and dry'd it, that it was in a manner rotten. Friday told me such a Boat would do very well, and would carry much enough Vittle, Drink, Bread, that was his Way of Talking.

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Dairyman Crick withdrew, and Tess dropped behind. Mr Clare also stepped out of line, and began privateering about for the weed. When she found him near her, her very tension at what she had heard the night before made her the first to speak. ¡¡¡¡`Don't they look pretty?' she said. ¡¡¡¡`Who?' ¡¡¡¡`Izzy Huett and Retty.' ¡¡¡¡Tess had moodily decided that either of these maidens would make a good farmer's wife, and that she ought to recommend them, and obscure her own wretched charms. ¡¡¡¡`Pretty? Well, yes - they are pretty girls - fresh looking. I have often thought so.' ¡¡¡¡`Though, poor dears, prettiness won't last long!' ¡¡¡¡`O no, unfortunately.' ¡¡¡¡`They are excellent dairywomen.' ¡¡¡¡`Yes: though not better than you.' ¡¡¡¡`They skim better than I.' ¡¡¡¡`Do they?' ¡¡¡¡Clare remained observing them - not without their observing him. ¡¡¡¡`She is colouring up,' continued Tess heroically. ¡¡¡¡`Who?' ¡¡¡¡`Retty Priddle.' ¡¡¡¡`Oh! Why is that?' Because you are looking at her.' ¡¡¡¡Self-sacrificing as her mood might be Tess could not well go further and cry, `Marry one of them, if you really do want a dairywoman and not a lady; and don't think of marrying me!' She followed Dairyman Crick, and had the mournful satisfaction of seeing that Clare remained behind. ¡¡¡¡From this day she forced herself to take pains to avoid him - never allowing herself, as formerly, to remain long in his company, even if their juxtaposition were purely accidental. She gave the other three every chance. ¡¡¡¡Tess was woman enough to realize from their avowals to herself that Angel Clare had the honour of all the dairymaids in his keeping, and her perception of his care to avoid compromising the happiness of either in the least degree bred a tender respect in Tess for what she deemed, rightly or wrongly, the self-controlling sense of duty shown by him, a quality which she had never expected to find in one of the opposite sex, and in the absence of which more than one of the simple hearts who were his housemates might have gone weeping on her pilgrimage. ¡¡¡¡Chapter 23

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¡¡¡¡`Well, she's made a conquest o' the younger branch of us, straight off,' continued the matron to her husband, `and she's a fool if she don't follow it up.' ¡¡¡¡`I don't quite like my children going away from home,' said the haggler. `As the head of the family, the rest ought to come to me.' ¡¡¡¡`But do let her go, Jacky,' coaxed his poor witless wife. `He's struck wi' - her you can see that. He called her Coz! He'll marry her, most likely, and make a lady of her; and then she'll be what her forefathers was.' ¡¡¡¡John Durbeyfield had more conceit than energy or health, and this supposition was pleasant to him. ¡¡¡¡`Well, perhaps, that's what young Mr d'Urberville means,' he admitted; `and sure enough he mid have serious thoughts about improving his blood by linking on to the old line. Tess, the little rogue! And have she really paid 'em a visit to such an end as this?' Meanwhile Tess was walking thoughtfully among the gooseberry bushes in the garden, and over Prince's grave. When she came in her mother pursued her advantage. ¡¡¡¡`Well, what be you going to do?' she asked. ¡¡¡¡`I wish I had seen Mrs d'Urberville,' said Tess. ¡¡¡¡`I think you mid as well settle it. Then you'll see her soon enough.' ¡¡¡¡Her father coughed in his chair. ¡¡¡¡`I don't know what to say!' answered the girl restlessly. `It is for you to decide. I killed the old horse, and I suppose I ought to do something to get ye a new one. But - but - I don't quite like Mr d'Urberville being there!' ¡¡¡¡The children, who had made use of this idea of Tess being taken up by their wealthy kinsfolk (which they imagined the other family to be) as a species of dolorifuge after the death of the horse, began to cry at Tess's reluctance, and teased and reproached her for hesitating. ¡¡¡¡`Tess won't go-o-o and be made a la-a-dy-of - !no, she says she won't!' they walled with square mouths. `And we shan't have a nice new horse, and lots o' golden money to buy fairlings! And Tess won't look pretty in her best cloze no mo-o-ore!'

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Sallie began to laugh; but Meg nodded, and lifted her eyebrows as high as they would go, which caused the apparition to vanish, and put the sour bread into the oven without further delay. Mrs. March went out, after peeping here and there to see how matters went, also saying a word of comfort to Beth, who sat making a winding sheet, while the dear departed lay in state in the domino box. A strange sense of helplessness fell upon the girls as the grey bonnet vanished round the comer; and despair seized them when, a few minutes later, Miss Crocker appeared, and said she'd come to dinner. Now, this lady was a thin, yellow spinster, with a sharp nose and inquisitive eyes, who saw everything, and gossiped about all she saw. They disliked her, but had been taught to be kind to her, simply because she was old and poor, and had few friends. So Meg gave her the easy-chair, and tried to entertain her, while she asked questions, criticized everything, and told stories of the people who she knew. ¡¡¡¡Language cannot describe the anxieties, experiences, and exertions which Jo underwent that morning; and the dinner she served up became a standing joke. Fearing to ask any more advice, she did her best alone, and discovered that something more than energy and goodwill is necessary to make a cook. She boiled the asparagus for an hour, and was grieved to find the heads cooked off and the stalks harder than ever. The bread burnt black, for the salad-dressing so aggravated her that she let everything else go till she had convinced herself that she could not make it fit to eat. The lobster was a scarlet mystery to her, but she hammered and poked till it was unshelled, and its meagre proportions concealed in a grove of lettuce leaves. The potatoes had to be hurried, not to keep the asparagus waiting, and were not done at last. The blancmange was lumpy, and the strawberries not as ripe as they looked, having been skilfully `deaconed'

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Mr. Knightley, a sensible man about seven or eight-and-thirty, was not only a very old and intimate friend of the family, but particularly connected with it, as the elder brother of Isabella's husband. He lived about a mile from Highbury, was a frequent visitor, and always welcome, and at this time more welcome than usual, as coming directly from their mutual connexions in London. He had returned to a late dinner, after some days' absence, and now walked up to Hartfield to say that all were well in Brunswick Square. It was a happy circumstance, and animated Mr. Woodhouse for some time. Mr. Knightley had a cheerful manner, which always did him good; and his many inquiries after "poor Isabella" and her children were answered most satisfactorily. When this was over, Mr. Woodhouse gratefully observed, "It is very kind of you, Mr. Knightley, to come out at this late hour to call upon us. I am afraid you must have had a shocking walk." 　　 "Not at all, sir. It is a beautiful moonlight night; and so mild that I must draw back from your great fire." 　　 "But you must have found it very damp and dirty. I wish you may not catch cold." 　　 "Dirty, sir! Look at my shoes. Not a speck on them." 　　 "Well! that is quite surprising, for we have had a vast deal of rain here. It rained dreadfully hard for half an hour while we were at breakfast. I wanted them to put off the wedding."