“Sir!!! Oh, Jessy! is it come to this?”.
“To what, sir? For I vow and declare I don’t understand you!”
“I have never understood you till now, I am afraid.”
“Perhaps not: it’s well we understand one another at last. Better late than never.”
The scornful lady walked off to a looking-glass, to wipe away the insult which her new lilac ribbons had received from Frank’s sprig of jasmine.
“One word more, and I have done,” said Frank, hastily following her. “Have I done anything to displease you? Or does this change in you proceed from the change in your fortune, Jessy?”
“I’m not obliged, sir, to account for my proceedings to any body; and don’t know what right you have to question me, as if you were my lord and judge: which you are not, nor ever will be, thank God!”
Frank’s passion struggled with his reason for a few instants. He stood motionless; then, in an altered voice, repeated, “Thank God!” and turned from her with proud composure. From this time forward he paid no more court to Jessy.
“Ah, father!” said he, “you knew her better than I did. I am glad I did not marry her last year, when she would have accepted of me, and when she seemed to love me. I thought you were rather hard upon her then. But you were not in love with her as I was, and now I find you were right.”
“My dear Frank,” said the good old man, “I hope you will not think me hard another time, when I do not think just the same as you do. I would, as I told you, have done every thing in my power to settle you well in the world, if you had married this girl. I should never have been angry with you; but I should have been bitterly grieved if you had, for the whim of the minute, made yourself unhappy for life. And was it not best to put you upon your guard? What better use can an old man make of his experience than to give it to his children?”