"I think of no one but Molly. There is nothing so terrible as a long engagement, and that is what it will come to. Do you remember Sarah Annesley? She grew thinner and thinner day by day, and her complexion became positively yellow when Perceval went away. And her mother said it was suspense preying upon her."
"So they said, my dear; but we all know it was indigestion."
"John,"—austerely,—"what is the exact amount of Mr. Luttrell's income?"
"About six hundred a year, I think."
"As much as that?" Slightly relieved. "And will his father allow him anything more?"
"Unless you insist upon my writing to Sir William, I could not tell you that."
"Six hundred a year is far too little."
"It is almost as much as we have."
"But you are not in the army, and you are not a fashionable young man."
"If you say that again I shall sue for a divorce. But seriously, Letty, perhaps you are exciting yourself about nothing. Who knows but they are indifferent to each other?"