VOLUME I
7. CHAPTER VII
 
The very day of Mr. Elton's going to London produced a fresh occasion
 for Emma's services towards her friend.  Harriet had been at Hartfield,
 as usual, soon after breakfast; and, after a time, had gone home
 to return again to dinner: she returned, and sooner than had been
 talked of, and with an agitated, hurried look, announcing something
 extraordinary to have happened which she was longing to tell.
 Half a minute brought it all out.  She had heard, as soon as she got
 back to Mrs. Goddard's, that Mr. Martin had been there an hour before,
 and finding she was not at home, nor particularly expected, had left
 a little parcel for her from one of his sisters, and gone away;
 and on opening this parcel, she had actually found, besides the two
 songs which she had lent Elizabeth to copy, a letter to herself;
 and this letter was from him, from Mr. Martin, and contained a direct
 proposal of marriage.  "Who could have thought it? She was so surprized
 she did not know what to do.  Yes, quite a proposal of marriage;
 and a very good letter, at least she thought so.  And he wrote
 as if he really loved her very much--but she did not know--and so,
 she was come as fast as she could to ask Miss Woodhouse what she
 should do.--" Emma was half-ashamed of her friend for seeming so
 pleased and so doubtful. 
"Upon my word," she cried, "the young man is determined not to lose
 any thing for want of asking.  He will connect himself well if he can." 
"Will you read the letter?" cried Harriet.  "Pray do.  I'd rather
 you would." 
Emma was not sorry to be pressed.  She read, and was surprized.
 The style of the letter was much above her expectation.
 There were not merely no grammatical errors, but as a composition it
 would not have disgraced a gentleman; the language, though plain,
 was strong and unaffected, and the sentiments it conveyed very much
 to the credit of the writer.  It was short, but expressed good sense,
 warm attachment, liberality, propriety, even delicacy of feeling.
 She paused over it, while Harriet stood anxiously watching for
 her opinion, with a "Well, well," and was at last forced to add,
 "Is it a good letter? or is it too short?" 
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