"So they are indeed, and I am delighted to hear you say it.
But you like Julia best."
"Oh yes!
I like Julia best."
"But do you really? for Miss Bertram is in general thought the handsomest."
"So I should suppose.
She has the advantage in every feature, and I prefer her countenance; but I like Julia best; Miss Bertram is certainly the handsomest, and I have found her the most agreeable, but I shall always like Julia best, because you order me."
"I shall not talk to you, Henry, but I know you will like her best at last."
"Do not I tell you that I like her best at first ?"
"And besides, Miss Bertram is engaged.
Remember that, my dear brother.
Her choice is made."
"Yes, and I like her the better for it.
An engaged woman is always more agreeable than a disengaged.
She is satisfied with herself.
Her cares are over, and she feels that she may exert all her powers of pleasing without suspicion.
All is safe with a lady engaged: no harm can be done."
"Why, as to that, Mr. Rushworth is a very good sort of young man, and it is a great match for her."
"But Miss Bertram does not care three straws for him; that is your opinion of your intimate friend.
I do not subscribe to it.
I am sure Miss Bertram is very much attached to Mr. Rushworth.
I could see it in her eyes, when he was mentioned.
I think too well of Miss Bertram to suppose she would ever give her hand without her heart."
"Mary, how shall we manage him?"
"We must leave him to himself, I believe.
Talking does no good.
He will be taken in at last."
"But I would not have him taken in ; I would not have him duped; I would have it all fair and honourable."
"Oh dear! let him stand his chance and be taken in.
It will do just as well.
Everybody is taken in at some period or other."
"Not always in marriage, dear Mary."
"In marriage especially.
With all due respect to such of the present company as chance to be married, my dear Mrs. Grant, there is not one in a hundred of either sex who is not taken in when they marry.
Look where I will, I see that it is so; and I feel that it must be so, when I consider that it is, of all transactions, the one in which people expect most from others, and are least honest themselves."
"Ah!
You have been in a bad school for matrimony, in Hill Street."
"My poor aunt had certainly little cause to love the state; but, however, speaking from my own observation, it is a manoeuvring business.
I know so many who have married in the full expectation and confidence of some one particular advantage in the connexion, or accomplishment, or good quality in the person, who have found themselves entirely deceived, and been obliged to put up with exactly the reverse.
What is this but a take in?"
"My dear child, there must be a little imagination here.
I beg your pardon, but I cannot quite believe you.
Depend upon it, you see but half.
You see the evil, but you do not see the consolation.
There will be little rubs and disappointments everywhere, and we are all apt to expect too much; but then, if one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first calculation is wrong, we make a second better: we find comfort somewhere - and those evil-minded observers, dearest Mary, who make much of a little, are more taken in and deceived than the parties themselves."
"Well done, sister!
I honour your esprit du corps .
When I am a wife, I mean to be just as staunch myself; and I wish my friends in general would be so too.
It would save me many a heartache."
"You are as bad as your brother, Mary; but we will cure you both.