“…she endeavoured to forget what she could not overlook…”

“May I ask you what these questions tend?''Merely to the illustration of your character,' said she, endeavouring to shake off her gravity. 'I am trying to make it out.''And what is your success?'She shook her head. 'I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”

“She was humbled, she was grieved; she repented, though she hardly knew of what. She became jealous of his esteem, when she could no longer hope to be benefited by it. She wanted to hear of him, when there seemed the least chance of gaining intelligence. She was convinced that she could have been happy with him, when it was no longer likely they should meet.”

“She hated herself more than she could express.”

“Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his eye, she might have seen how well the expression of heartfelt delight, diffused over his face, became him; but, though she could not look, she could listen, and he told her of feelings, which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection every moment more valuable.”

“Success supposes endeavour.”

“She looked back as well as she could; but it was all confusion. She had taken up the idea, she supposed and made everything bend to it.”