In his chamber, Emma was at peace from the dreadful the mortifications of an unequal society, and family discord–from the immediate endurance of hard-hearted prosperity, low-minded conceit, wrong-headed folly, engrafted on an untoward disposition. —She still suffered from them in the contemplation of their existence; in memory and in prospect, but for the moment, she ceased to be tortured by their effects. —She was at leisure, she could read and think,—though her situation was hardly such as to make reflection very soothing. The evils arising from the loss of her uncle were neither trifling, nor likely to lessen; and when thought had been freely indulged, in contrasting the past and the present, the employment of mind, the dissipation of unpleasant ideas which only reading could produce, made her thankfully turn to a book.
—Jane Austen, The Watsons