"Now thou art content."
"In thy smiles, dearest, ever."
And Carlton pressed the hand with fervor to his lip that was smilingly extended towards him.
"Ah, how long it may be, before I can call this little hand mine."
"It is thine already, Carlton."
"Thy heart is, I trust; but the hand, Florinda, is quite another thing."
"True, Carlton."
"My means are so humble."
"You would make them so."
"But are they not, Florinda?"