"But I think Belle is better than I am. I sometimes wish I was half so good."
"You are good enough for me; Belle is very good, but somehow her goodness makes a fellow uncomfortable. She is what I call distressingly good; one doesn't want to be treated like a wild beast in a menagerie, and to be every now and then stirred up with a long stick."
"What a comparison!"
"Well it is a fact; when a fellow's been busy all day pouring over Coke and Blackstone, or casting up wearisome rows of figures, and seeks a young lady's society in the evening, he wants to enjoy himself, to bathe in the sunshine of her smiles, and not to be lectured about his shortcomings. I tell you, Jeanette, it comes hard on a fellow."
"You want some one to smooth the wrinkles out of the brow of care, and not to add fresh ones."
"Yes, and I hope it will be my fortune to have a fair soft hand like his," said Mr. Romaine, slightly pressing Jeanette's hand to perform the welcome and agreeable task.
"Belle's hand would be firmer than mine for the talk."
"It is not the strong hand, but the tender hand I want in a woman."
"But Belle is very kind; she did it all for your own good."
"Of course she did; my father used to say so when I was a boy, and he corrected me; but it didn't make me enjoy the correction."