"Oh, well now, really now," said Tozer, "it was only a natural expression. I do take a deep interest in you, my—that is—miss; I feel a sincere regard and affection and—"
"But it's no use," said Minnie. "You really can't, you know; and so, why, you mustn't, you know."
Tozer did not clearly understand this, so after a brief pause he resumed:
"But what I was saying is of far more importance. I referred to your life. Now you're not happy as you are."
"Oh yes, but I am," said Minnie, briskly.
Tozer sighed.
"I'm very happy," continued Minnie, "very, very happy—that is, when I'm with dear, darling Kitty, and dear, dear Ethel, and my darling old Dowdy, and dear, kind papa."
Tozer sighed again.
"You can't be truly happy thus," he said, mournfully. "You may think you are, but you ain't. My heart fairly yearns over you when I see you, so young, so lovely, and so innocent; and I know you can't be happy as you are. You must live otherwise. And oh, I pray you—I entreat you to set your affections elsewhere!"
"Well, then, I think it's very, very horrid in you to press me so," said, Minnie, with something actually like asperity in her tone; "but it's quite impossible."