"Humph!"
"Yes, sir, that was just what he said at first, when some officious friend told of it, and sending for me he said—'You must give up all love nonsense if you wish to preserve my favour,' upon which I said—'Sir, did you never love?' 'That is not the question,' he said. 'It is of your follies now, not mine, that we are speaking,' and so he turned me out of the room."
"And what did you do? Did you give up your love?"
"No, sir; if he had asked me to give up my life that would have been much easier to me."
"Go on. What then happened?"
"Why, sir, my uncle and I met very seldom, but there was one upon my track that he paid to follow me, and to report my actions to him; and that spy—oh, that I had caught him! that spy made my uncle acquainted with the fact, that I continued, despite his prohibition, to meet with the only being who ever awakened in my bosom a tender feeling; and so I was abandoned by my relative, and left penniless almost."
"But you had youth and health?"
"I had, and I resolved to make use of those advantages as best I might, by endeavouring while they lasted, frail and fluttering possessions as they are, to make a home for myself and for her whom I loved."
"The feeling, I presume, was reciprocal?"
"I thought so."