If I Could But Know His Heart,

He Is A Gentleman; I Am A Gentleman's Daughter; So Far We Are Equal.

Sir Walter Elliot, Of Kellynch-hall, In Somersetshire, Was A Man Who, For His Own Amusement, Never Took Up Any Book But The Barontage; There He Found Occupation For An Idle Hour, And Consolation In A Distressed One; . . .

Catherine [...] Enjoyed Her Usual Happiness With Henry Tilney, Listening With Sparkling Eyes To Everything He Said; And, In Finding Him Irresistible, Becoming So Herself.

Loss Of Virtue In A Female Is Irretrievable; That One False Step Involves Her In Endless Ruin; That Her Reputation Is No Less Brittle Than It Is Beautiful; And That She Cannot Be Too Much Guarded In Her Behaviour Towards The Undeserving Of The Other Sex.

Vanity, Not Love, Has Been My Folly.