‘I think of her as all, I suppose, must.’
‘She is beautiful: she is the most beautiful woman I ever saw. She marries for money, I suppose?’
‘She is the richest heiress in England; she is much richer than my cousin.’
‘C’est drôle. But she does not want to marry Lord Montfort.’
‘Why?’
‘Because, my dear fellow, she is in love with you.’
‘By Jove, Mirabel, what a fellow you are! What do you mean?’
‘Mon cher Armine, I like you more than anybody. I wish to be, I am, your friend. Here is some cursed contretemps. There is a mystery, and both of you are victims of it. Tell me everything. I will put you right.’
‘Ah! my dear Mirabel, it is past even your skill. I thought I could never speak on these things to human being, but I am attracted to you by the same sympathy which you flatter me by expressing for myself. I want a confidant, I need a friend; I am most wretched.’
‘Eh! bien! we will not go to the French play. As for Jenny Vertpré, we can sup with her any night. Come to my house, and we will talk over everything. But trust me, if you wish to marry Henrietta Temple, you are an idiot if you do not have her.’