"Very well off, then. All the neighbourhood rang with the Bolderos' big marriage, and it was big in no other sense. The poor little thing was barely grown up and had been nowhere and seen nobody,—and when the husband died she was received back at the Abbey with open arms."
"It's a wonder she hasn't been snapped up before."
"The Bolderos have taken care of that. They have immured her like a nun. This is positively the first call she has made here."
"She's awfully pretty." He sighed contentedly.
"And she seemed to get on with you?"
"Famously. Flirty little thing."
"Of course there will be others after her, George. You must lose no time."
"I haven't time to lose, my good aunt. Poor devils in Stock Exchange offices can't call their souls their own. I must get back next week. Luckily I only had a week in August, or I should not have been here now."
"You poor, ill-used individual! Do you mean that you must actually and positively return to your slavery at the risk of losing what would emancipate you from it forever? It can't be, George. It simply must not be. Your uncle must make up some excuse——"
"My uncle Thomas is a great man on his native heath, no doubt, Aunt Laura—but he hardly carries the same weight on the Stock Exchange. No, I must go when the day comes. When Duty calls Love must obey. And it's no use casting away the substance for the shadow. And—and I could think of a dozen other wise sayings à propos, but it all comes to this, I've got eight days clear—I'm wound up now like an eight-day clock—and can make my running steadily till these are out. Then, if——"