"That is all very well, but,—" And then Clarissa paused.
"But what, dear?"
"You do mean to accept Mr. Newton?"
Now it was time for Mary to pause. "If I were to tell you my whole heart," she said, "I should be ashamed of what I was saying; and yet I do not know that there is any cause for shame."
"There can be none," said Clary. "I am sure of that."
"My acquaintance with Mr. Newton is very, very slight. I liked him,—oh, so much. I thought him to be high-spirited, manly, and a fine gentleman. I never saw any man who so much impressed me."
"Of course not," said Clarissa, making a gesture as though she would stop on the high road and clasp her hands together, in which, however, she was impeded by her parasol and her remembrance of her present position.
"But it is so much to say that one will love a man better than all the world, and go to him, and belong to him, and be his wife."
"Ah;—but if one does love him!"
"I can hardly believe that love can grow so quickly."