Host (Jane Austen Bedtime Stories)

He was afraid they would find no difficulty.

He wished the road might be impassable, that he might be able to keep them all at Randalls, and with the utmost goodwill was sure that accommodation might be found for everybody, calling on his wife to agree with him that with a little contrivance everybody might be lodged, which she hardly knew how to do, from the consciousness of there being but two spare rooms in the house.

What is to be done, my dear Emma?

What is to be done?

Was Mr. Woodhouse's first exclamation and all that he could say for some time.

To her, he looked for comfort and her assurances of safety, her representation of the excellence of the horses and of James and of their having so many friends about them revived him a little.

his eldest daughter's alarm was equal to his own.

The horror of being blocked up at Randalls, while her children were at Hartfield, was full in her imagination, and fancying the road to be now just passable for adventurous people.

But in a state that admitted no delay, she was eager to have it settled, that her father and Emma should remain at Randalls,

while she and her husband set forward instantly through all the possible accumulations of drifted snow that might impede them.

You had better order the carriage directly, my love, said she.

I dare say we shall be able to get along if we set off directly, and if we do come to anything very bad, I can get out and walk.

I should not mind walking half the way.

I could change my shoes, you know, the moment I got home, and it is not the sort of thing that gives me cold.

Indeed, replied he,

Then, my dear Isabella, it is the most extraordinary sort of thing in the world, for in general everything does give you cold.

Walk home.

You are prettily shod for walking home, I dare say.

It will be bad enough for the horses.

Isabella turned to Mrs. Weston for her approbation of the plan.