“Then he could not like me. They who love truly feel kindly towards those who are dear to the objects of their love. If not, their hearts are hollow.”
“But there are other unions which would render it impossible for your parents to live with you.”
“What may those unions be? I know of none.”
“Suppose you were living with the objection of your affection in an alliance of fervent attachment without being bound by the compulsory obligations of marriage.”
“I could never be in such a position, therefore your argument is of no weight.”
“Is there no man, Yhahil, with whom you would consent to pass your life, free from those civil restraints which so frequently chill the warm glow of hearts, and render wedlock a condition of dull monotonous dissatisfaction?”
“That may be, but with all its evils, these, when weighed against the good, are lightest in the balance, and I would rather be a Pariah’s wife than an Omrah’s harlot.”
“I thought you had determined never to wed a Pariah—your father has told me as much.”
“And he told you truly—it will therefore follow that I am determined never to become the harlot of an Omrah.”
“Yhahil,” said the minister’s son, “I need scarcely say that I love you; but you will hardly imagine with what fervour, and let me ask you to state candidly if that love is reciprocated?”