“Come, come, Miss Clinton,” said Hycy, with another smirk, “that won't pass. Is it not laid down by the philosophers that you think of little else from the time you are marriageable?”
“By what philosophers?”
“Why, let me see—by the philosophers in general—ha! ha! ha!”
“I was not aware of that,” she replied; “but even if they have so ruled it, I see no inference we can draw from that, except their ignorance of the subject.”
“It is so ruled, however,” said Hycy, “and philosophy is against you.”
“I am willing it should, Mr. Burke, provided we have truth with us.”
“Very good, indeed, Miss Clinton—that was well said; but, seriously, have you ever thought of marriage?”
“Doesn't philosophy say that we seldom think of anything else?” she replied, smiling. Ask philosophy, then.”
“But this really is a subject in which I feel a particular interest—a personal interest; but, as for philosophy, I despise it—that is as it is usually understood. The only philosophy of life is love, and that is my doctrine.”
“Is that your only doctrine?”