"Yes, indeed."
"I sometimes think it is better to remember the good things we have than to regret those that are gone."
"That is excellent philosophy, Lord George. And therefore I go out hunting, and break my bones, and fall into rivers, and ride about with such men as Mr. Price. One has to make the best of it, hasn't one? But you, I see, have no regrets."
He paused for a moment, and then found himself driven to make some attempt at gallantry. "I didn't quite say that," he replied.
"You were able to re-establish yourself according to your own tastes. A man can always do so. I was obliged to take whatever came. I think that Mary is so nice."
"I think so too, I can assure you."
"You have been very fortunate to find such a girl; so innocent, so pure, so pretty, and with a fortune too. I wonder how much difference it would have made in your happiness if you had seen her before we had ever been acquainted. I suppose we should never have known each other then."
"Who can say?"
"No; no one can say. For myself, I own that I like it better as it is. I have something to remember that I can be proud of."
"And I something to be ashamed of."