This is just an estimate, since I am reading it on my kindle as part of a bundle. But Louisa Musgrove just jumped off what seems to be some sort of a small retaining wall and somehow knocked herself into a coma (it's best not to try to figure out what medically has occurred in classic novels in order to cause young ladies to go into declines (and die) or into a coma (and die) or into despair (and die), since it seems that the slightest bit of adversity is quite capable of bumping them off). She's a gigantic pain in the ass, so this is all to the good as far as I am concerned.

Chapter 9 of Persuasion and Anne Elliot is breaking my heart.

On one other question which perhaps her utmost wisdom might not have prevented, she was soon spared all suspense; for, after the Miss Musgroves had returned and finished their visit at the Cottage she had this spontaneous information from Mary: — “Captain Wentworth is not very gallant by you, Anne, though he was so attentive to me. Henrietta asked him what he thought of you, when they went away, and he said, ‘You were so altered he should not have known you again.'"

I kinda don't have time to get into this, so I'm just going to say Anne Elliot from Persuasion, followed by Charlotte Lucas from Pride & Prejudice. Apparently I am attracted to aging wallflowers filled with regret. Si jeunesse savait, si vieillesse pouvait.

From page 473 (in reference to the multiple locale changes throughout Persuasion):

That there's been such narrative and thematic unity through these discordant settings has been due to Austen's handling of her heroine, Anne Elliot, certainly the soundest, sanest, most self-contained member of the cast, whose point of view accommodates rapid shifts in locale and personnel without losing her own moral or ethical footing. She doesn't sparkle, our gal Anne, but she burns with a low, steady flame.

I loved this video. It's an awesome discussion by Veronica and very enlightening. Veronica (Ron Lit) is great. Go watch her videos on YouTube.