Emma

Maple Grove; her sister’s favourite room.”—Mr. Elton was appealed
to.—“Was not it astonishingly like?—She could really almost fancy
herself at Maple Grove.”

“And the staircase—You know, as I came in, I observed how very like the
staircase was; placed exactly in the same part of the house. I really
could not help exclaiming! I assure you, Miss Woodhouse, it is very
delightful to me, to be reminded of a place I am so extremely partial
to as Maple Grove. I have spent so many happy months there! (with a
little sigh of sentiment). A charming place, undoubtedly. Every body
who sees it is struck by its beauty; but to me, it has been quite a
home. Whenever you are transplanted, like me, Miss Woodhouse, you will
understand how very delightful it is to meet with any thing at all like
what one has left behind. I always say this is quite one of the evils
of matrimony.”

Emma made as slight a reply as she could; but it was fully sufficient
for Mrs. Elton, who only wanted to be talking herself.

“So extremely like Maple Grove! And it is not merely the house—the
grounds, I assure you, as far as I could observe, are strikingly like.
The laurels at Maple Grove are in the same profusion as here, and stand