"He has been there constantly;—has he not?"
"No;—no. I don't think that. Mr. Wharton doesn't love him a bit better than you do. My cousin thinks him a most objectionable young man."
"But Emily?"
"Ah—. That's where it is."
"You don't mean to say she—cares about that man!"
"He has been encouraged by that aunt of hers, who, as far as I can make out, is a very unfit sort of person to be much with such a girl as our dear Emily. I never saw her but once, and then I didn't like her at all."
"A vulgar, good-natured woman. But what can she have done? She can't have twisted Emily round her finger."
"I don't suppose there is very much in it, but I thought it better to tell you. Girls take fancies into their heads,—just for a time."
"He's a handsome fellow, too," said Arthur Fletcher, musing in his sorrow.
"My cousin says he's a nasty Jew-looking man."