“Ah!” said the lawyer, “this is another guess sort of man, and a very different sort of proposal.”
“I suspected that he was a favorite of yours,” said Miss Dinah, significantly.
“Well, I own to it. He is one of those men who have a great attraction for me,—men who come out of the conflict of life and its interests without any exaggerated notions of human perfectibility or the opposite, who recognize plenty of good and no small share of bad in the world, but, on the whole, are satisfied that, saving ill health, very few of our calamities are not of our own providing.”
“All of which is perfectly compatible with an odious egotism, sir,” said she, warmly; “but I feel proud to say such characters find few admirers amongst women.”
“From which I opine that he is not fortunate enough to number Miss Dinah Barrington amongst his supporters?”
“You are right there, sir. The prejudice I had against him before we met has been strengthened since I have seen him.”
“It is candid of you, however, to call it a prejudice,” said he, with a smile.
“Be it so, Mr. Withering; but prejudice is only another word for an instinct.”
“I 'm afraid if we get into ethics we 'll forget all about the proposal,” said Barrington.
“What a sarcasm!” cried Withering, “that if we talk of morals we shall ignore matrimony.”