But, come now--do you think yourself worthy of a girl
like that?"
"No. Do you?"
"No. But I should not feel such a hypocrite if she thought me worthy, as
to give her up on that ground."
"Then what _do_ you mean?"
"To win her, if I can."
"Whew!"
"But if you are a gentleman, you will let me say so myself, and not betray
my secret."
"Damned if I do! Good luck to you! There's my hand. I believe you're a
good fellow after all. I wish I had seen you ride to hounds. They tell me
it's a sight."
"Thank you heartily. But what are you going to do?"
"Go back to the sweet-flowing Thames, and the dreams of the desk."
"Well--be a man as well as a gentleman. Don't be a fool."
"Hang it all! I believe it was her money, after all, I was in love with.
Good-bye!"
But the poor fellow looked grave enough as he went away. And I trust that,
before long, he, too, began to reap some of the good corn that grows on
the wintry fields of disappointment.--I have my eye upon him; but it is
little an _old fogie_ like me can do with a fellow like Percy.
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