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I tried it, with all the power of thought and calculation that I could give to it, and I found that I could not marry Mr. Gilmore." "I am not speaking about that now." "You mean that Walter is so poor, that he never should be allowed to marry." "I don't care twopence about Walter." "But I do, Aunt Sarah. I care more about him than all the world beside. I had to think for him."
Then she turned to her lover and spoke in quick, low tones. "Give me her address the girl they want you to marry!" "What are you going to do?" asked his lordship. "I don't know," answered the girl, "but I'm going to see her." She scribbled the name down, and then said, looking the boy squarely in the face: "Tell me frankly, Jack, do you want to marry me, or do you not?"
I feel at last that love is near me. Supposing I were to marry her?" "Why shouldn't you marry her if you love her? That is to say, if this is more than one of your ordinary caprices, spiced by the fact that its object is a nun." The men looked at each other for a moment doubtful. Then Mike laughed. "I hope I don't love her too much, that is all. But perhaps she will not come.
More to the point, in one respect, is the conjecture that we have here an attenuated survival of the exogamic rule the girl must marry out of her social group; the old social organization having disappeared, the "stranger" takes the place of the original functionary, and the deity the place of the clan.
You'll be eighteen or nineteen, I suppose. 'Yes, I'm nineteen last sixth of February. Pity you come too late to give me a birthday present, ain't it? 'Ah! And who'd have thought you'd have grown up such a beauty! I say, Clem, how many of the young chaps about here have been wanting to marry you, eh? 'A dozen or two, I dessay, Clem replied, shrugging her shoulders scornfully. Mr.
"You hear that, Hycy; there's affection?" she exclaimed "wishin' me to go my long journey!" "Would you marry again, Mr. Burke?" asked the worthy son. "I think not," replied Jemmy. "There's gintlemen enough o' the name I'm afraid one too many."
"Because they were too poor," Lady Throckmorton explained; "because Denis was only a poor young journalist, scribbling night and day, and scarcely earning his bread and butter." "Is he poor now?" ventured Theo again. "No," was the answer. "I wish he was, if it would save him from the Gowers. As it is, I suppose, if nothing happens to prevent it, he will marry Priscilla before the year is out.
"And what is the truth?" "I was part engaged to that other girl before; and then, when I came to think of it, I knew that I was not fit to marry Miss Dale. I know I have behaved badly; but, Pratt, thousands have done the same thing before." "I can only say that I have not been so unfortunate as to reckon any of those thousands among my friends."
Beautiful women, good women, some of them women to whom I would have given immortality had I been able; but they died, and died, and died. And here is one of the great drawbacks of living forever. "Yet it was not always the death of my wives which saddened me the most; it was their power of growing old. I would marry a young woman, beautiful, charming.
"But why do you grieve, Adele?" said I, "You like him, and he offers to marry you. My advice is very simple, marry him." "Yes," replied Adele, "if all was as it seems. I agree with you that my course is clear; but, notwithstanding his repeated assertions that he loves me as Adele Chabot, I am convinced in my own mind that he still believes me to be Caroline Stanhope.
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