Miss Smith? What sort of message would I want to send to her? Miss Smith?

Emma Woodhouse:

[Seating herself in a carriage]
My, this weather... Rev. Elton:
Miss Woodhouse, please! Fate has left us alone for a reason. Emma Woodhouse:
Mr. Elton! Why do you seize my hand! Rev. Elton:
I do not seize your hand so much as the opportunity to tell you that I am hoping, no, fearing; ready to die if you refuse me! Emma Woodhouse:
Good heavens! Go back! Rev. Elton:
Surely my ardent attachment to you, my love and devotion cannot help but have made an impression! Emma Woodhouse:
Mr. Elton! It is I, Miss Woodhouse! Rev. Elton:
Mm hmm. Emma Woodhouse:
The party spirits have confused you! Allow me to deliver your message to Miss Smith, but you must direct no more of it to me. Rev. Elton:
Miss Smith? What sort of message would I want to send to her? Miss Smith?