Emma

She had had many a hint from Mr. Knightley and some from her own heart,
as to her deficiency—but none were equal to counteract the persuasion
of its being very disagreeable,—a waste of time—tiresome women—and all
the horror of being in danger of falling in with the second-rate and
third-rate of Highbury, who were calling on them for ever, and
therefore she seldom went near them. But now she made the sudden
resolution of not passing their door without going in—observing, as she
proposed it to Harriet, that, as well as she could calculate, they were
just now quite safe from any letter from Jane Fairfax.

The house belonged to people in business. Mrs. and Miss Bates occupied
the drawing-room floor; and there, in the very moderate-sized
apartment, which was every thing to them, the visitors were most
cordially and even gratefully welcomed; the quiet neat old lady, who
with her knitting was seated in the warmest corner, wanting even to
give up her place to Miss Woodhouse, and her more active, talking
daughter, almost ready to overpower them with care and kindness, thanks
for their visit, solicitude for their shoes, anxious inquiries after
Mr. Woodhouse’s health, cheerful communications about her mother’s, and