Thereupon she began to fence, and say that love was all folly. He had her esteem and her gratitude, and it would be better for both of them to confine their sentiments within those rational bounds.
“That I cannot do,” said Uxmoor; “so I must ask your leave to be ambitious. Let me try and conquer your affection.”
“As you conquered the bull?”
“Yes; only not so rudely, nor so quickly, I'll be bound.”
“Well, I don't know why I should object. I esteem you more than anybody in the world. You are my beau ideal of a man. If you can make me love you, all the better for me. Only, I am afraid you cannot.”
“May I try?”
“Yes,” said Zoe, bushing carnation.
“May I come every day?”
“Twice a day, if you like.”
“I think I shall succeed—in time.”