“I am afraid, George,” she said, “that you have no chance whatever: I know Edith well, and have heard her say, twenty times over, that she never will marry any man unless he belongs to the army.”
“Then I have been exceedingly ill-used!”
“O fie, George—I wonder at you! Do you think that nobody besides yourself has a right to change their mind? How often, I should like to know, have you varied your attachments during the last three years?”
“That is a very different matter, Mary.”
“Will you have the kindness to explain the difference?”
“Pshaw! is there no distinction between a mere passing flirtation and a deep-rooted passion like mine?”
“I understand—this is the first time there has been a rival in the case. Well—I am sorry I cannot help you. Rely upon it that Roper is the man; and, to be plain with you, I am not at all surprised at it.”
“Mary!—what do you mean?”
“Do you really know so little of the sex as to flatter yourself that a lively girl like Edith, with more imagination than wit, would prefer you, who—pardon me, dear cousin—are rather a commonplace sort of personage, to a gay young officer of dragoons? Why, don’t you see that he talks more to her in one hour than you do in four-and-twenty? Are not his manners more fascinating—his attentions more pointed—his looks”——
“Upon my word, Miss Mary!” I exclaimed, “this is going rather too far. Do you mean to say that in point of personal appearance”——