"Sir--sir--I say--she is very pretty, in her own style, and very attractive. She has a look, at times, of a thing made out of fire and air, at which I stand and marvel, without a thought of clasping and kissing it. I felt in her a powerful magnet to my interest and vanity. I never felt as if nature meant her to be my other and better self. When a question on that head rushed upon me, I flung it off, saying brutally I should be rich with her and ruined without her--vowing I would be practical, and not romantic."
"A very sensible resolve. What mischief came of it, Bob?"

"She is very pretty, in her own style. She has a look of a thing made out of fire and air, at which I stand and marvel, without a thought of clasping it. She attracted my interest and vanity. I never felt as if nature meant her to be my other and better self. When that question came to me, I flung it off, saying brutally that I should be rich with her and ruined without her - vowing I would be practical, and not romantic."
"A very sensible resolve," said Mr. Yorke.
