"But I could not love a man like Mr. Hambleton, unless, indeed, there were no possibility of getting any one else. In that case, I would make a choice of evils between single blessedness and such a husband. But to have two such offers as these, Rose, and hesitate to make a choice, strikes me as singular indeed!"
"I do not hesitate, Annette," was the quiet reply.
"Have you, then, indeed decided, Rose?"
"I have—and this conversation has caused me to decide; for, as it has progressed, my mind has been enabled to see truly the real difference in the characters of my suitors."
"You have, then, decided in favor of Mr. Gray?"
"Indeed I have not, Annette. Though I admire his fine talents and his polished exterior, yet I have never been able to perceive in him those qualities upon which my heart can rest in confidence. He may possess these in even a higher degree than Mr. Hambleton, but I am afraid to run so great a risk. In the latter, I know there are moral qualities that I can love, and that I can repose upon."
"But he is so dull, Rose."
"I really do not think so, Annette. There is not so much flash about him, if I may use the word, as about Mr. Gray. But as to his being dull, I must beg to differ with you. To me, his conversation is always interesting."
"It never is so to me. And, besides all that, his tastes and mine are as widely different as the poles. Why, Rose, if you become his wife, you will sink into obscurity at once. He never can make any impression on society. It is not in him."
"Rather make no impression on society at all, than a false or disgraceful one, say I," was the firm reply of Rose.