"I don't know about being 'umble, but I am contented. Are not you contented with me, sir?"
"No,—because you're not in a hurry to be married."
"What a goose you are. Do you know I'm not sure that if you really love a person, and are quite confident about him,—as I am of you,—that having to look forward to being married is not the best part of it all. I suppose you'll like to get my letters now, but I don't know that you'll care for them much when we've been man and wife for ten years."
"But one can't live upon letters."
"I shall expect you to live upon mine, and to grow fat on them. There;—I heard papa's step on the stairs. He said you were to go to him. Good-by, Harry;—dearest Harry! What a blessed wind it was that blew you here."
"Stop a moment;—about your getting to Clavering. I shall come for you on Easter-eve."
"Oh, no;—why should you have so much trouble and expense?"
"I tell you I shall come for you,—unless, indeed, you decline to travel with me."
"It will be so nice! And then I shall be sure to have you with me the first moment I see them. I shall think it very awful when I first meet your father."
"He's the most good-natured man, I should say, in England."