“Make up your mind?”
“Yes.”
“Can’t see why you shouldn’t do that now. Farquhar’s what I should call eligible building-ground; you might erect a cathedral on him, or you might run up a slave-market; anyhow, he’ll be what you make him, Dolly.”
“I certainly sha’n’t make anything of him if you go on praising him. You ought to know that praise is the strongest of disqualifications.”
“You’re an unreasonable being. If you don’t see him, how do you think you’re going to know your own mind better three months hence than now?”
“I’m coming to that. I don’t want to see him; but if he cares to write to me I’ll answer his letters. That’s what I want you to tell him.”
“Glory!” said Lucian. “Then while he’s away I’ll walk in daily and praise him up to the skies. I think I read my title clear to a gay time.”
“I want you to go, too,” said Dolly.
“Me? Oh, I’m a harmless individual; you needn’t do that.”
“But I want to put you both on an equality and judge fairly.”