Lord Curryfin. Nothing.
Miss Niphet. How thrives your suit with Miss Gryll?
Lord Curryfin. That is at an end. I have her permission—her command she calls it—to throw myself at your feet, and on your mercy.
Miss Niphet. How did she take leave of you, crying or laughing?
Lord Curryfin. Why, if anything, laughing.
Miss Niphet.. Do you not feel mortified?
Lord Curryfin. I have another and deeper feeling, which predominates over any possible mortification.
Miss Niphet. And that is—
Lord Curryfin. Can you doubt what it is!
Miss Niphet.. I will not pretend to doubt. I have for some time been well aware of your partiality for me.