“Poor Harry! I’m not sure, you know, Fanny, that you’re not taking a bit of an advantage of him.”
“Oh, Aunt, he’s waited so long, he may as well have what he’s waited for.” Fanny laughed grimly.
“Yes, child, he’s waited so long, that I’m not sure it isn’t a bit hard on him. You know, I like him, Fanny—though as you know quite well, I don’t think he’s good enough for you. And I think he thinks so himself, poor fellow.”
“Don’t you be so sure of that, Aunt. Harry is common, but he’s not humble. He wouldn’t think the Queen was any too good for him, if he’d a mind to her.”
“Well—It’s as well if he has a proper opinion of himself.”
“It depends what you call proper,” said Fanny. “But he’s got his good points—”
“Oh, he’s a nice fellow, and I like him, I do like him. Only, as I tell you, he’s not good enough for you.”
“I’ve made up my mind, Aunt,” said Fanny, grimly.
“Yes,” mused the aunt. “They say all things come to him who waits—”
“More than he’s bargained for, eh, Aunt?” laughed Fanny rather bitterly.