That sanguine expectation of happiness which is happiness itself.
She had seen the same Frederick Wentworth.
But vanity, not love, has been my folly.
Elizabeth received them with all the forbearance of civility.
She prized the frank, the open-hearted, the eager character beyond all others. Warmth and enthusiasm did captivate her still. She felt that she could so much more depend upon the sincerity of those who sometimes looked or said a careless or a hasty thing, than of those whose presence of mind never varied, whose tongue never slipped.
Edmund was all in all.