Mr. Falconer. Candid, as usual, Harry. But do you think Dorothy would make a good farmer's wife?
Harry Hedgerow. I think, sir, she is so good, and so clever, and so ready and willing to turn her hand to anything, that she would be a fit wife for anybody, from a lord downwards. But it may be most for her own happiness to keep in the class in which she was born.
Mr. Falconer. She is not very pretty, you know.
Harry Hedgerow. Not pretty, sir! If she isn't a beauty, I don't know who is.
Mr. Falconer. Well, no doubt, she is a handsome girl.
Harry Hedgerow. Handsome is not the thing, sir. She's beautiful.
Mr. Falconer. Well, Harry, she is beautiful, if that will please you.
Harry Hedgerow. It does please me, sir. I ought to have known you were joking when you said she was not pretty.
Mr. Falconer. But, you know, she has no fortune.
Harry Hedgerow. I don't want fortune. I want her, and nothing else, and nobody else.