“There, perhaps, you may find yourself mistaken,” replied Wright, with a significant look.
“You don’t say so? You don’t think so?” cried Marvel, with great emotion. “I say what I think; and, if I may trust a woman’s looks, I’ve some reason for my thoughts.”
Marvel took up the tankard which stood on the table, and swallowed down a hasty draught; and then said, though with an altered voice, “Cousin Wright, let him who can win her, wear her, as I said before. I sha’n’t quarrel with you if you deal fairly by me; so tell me honestly, did you never see her before this morning?”
“Never, as I am an honest man,” said Wright.
“Then, here’s my hand for you,” said Marvel. “All’s fair and handsome on your part. Happen what may, as I said before, I will not quarrel with you. If she was decreed to fall in love with you at first sight, why that’s no fault of yours; and if she tells me so fairly, why no great fault of hers. She has encouraged me a little; but still women will change their minds, and I shall not call her a jilt if she speaks handsomely to me. It will go a little to my heart at first, no doubt; but I shall bear it like a man, I hope; and I shall not quarrel with you, cousin Wright, whatever else I do.”
Marvel shook Wright’s hand heartily; but turned away directly afterwards, to hide his agitation.
“Why now, cousin Marvel, you are a good fellow; that’s the truth of it,” said Wright. “Trust to me: and, if the girl is what you think her, you shall have her: that I promise you.”
“That’s more than you can promise, being as you say as much in love as I am.”
“I say I’m more in love than you are: but what then, I ask you?”
“What then! why, we cannot both have Alicia Barton.”