"And when a young man is so very young, I suppose he doesn't quite know his own mind."
"No, mamma. But—"
"Well, my dear."
"His father says that he has got—such a strong will of his own," said poor Mary, who was anxious, unconsciously anxious, to put in a good word on her own side of the question, without making her own desire too visible.
"He always had that. When there was any game to be played, he always liked to have his own way. But then men like that are just as likely to change as others."
"Are they, mamma?"
"But I do think that he is a lad of very high principle."
"Papa has always said that of him."
"And of fine generous feeling. He would not change like a weather-cock."
"If you think he would change at all, I would rather,—rather,—rather—. Oh, mamma, why did you tell me?"