"And what should I get for that?" said Margaret eagerly.
"You might perhaps have got a couple of thousands—I think I would lay the damages at three."
"Only three, Robert! I am sure that is not enough for deceiving me, robbing me of my best affections, betraying my trust—oh, three thousand pounds would be no compensation for such conduct, no adequate compensation. I am sure my heart is worth more than that."
"I dare say you think so, Margaret," replied Robert coolly; "but you might not persuade a jury to think it likewise; there would be the difficulty."
"But would you really go to law about it?" enquired Emma. "Only think how it would make you talked about."
"Well, so much the better," replied Margaret sharply; "why should I mind that? I am not afraid of being spoken of."
"It would be much better to make him pay damages than compel him to marry you," observed Elizabeth. "I always wonder women venture to do that—I should be afraid he would beat me afterwards."
"Two or three thousand pounds would secure you a respectable husband, Margaret," continued Robert. "My friend, George Millar, would perhaps take you then."
"I think I would rather marry Tom Musgrove than anybody," replied Margaret. "George Millar is only a brewer, after all, and Tom is a gentleman and has nothing to do."
"But Millar has a capital business, I can tell you," cried Mrs. Watson; "I should not mind my own sister marrying him. Why I know he used to allow his late wife more than a hundred a month to keep the table and find herself in gowns—a very pretty allowance—and very pretty gowns she used to wear."