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Updated: May 14, 2025
I ain't quite sure but what I shall be better without it altogether. "I'd rather marry her twice over than let my cousin have the title and the property," said the Baronet with energy. "You needn't tell her that," said McCollop. "Of course when you've cleared the ground in this quarter you can begin again with another lady."
The McCollop acres were said to lie somewhere in Caithness, but no one knew their exact locality. "But a man will naturally put off the evil day as long as he can. I should have thought that you might have allowed yourself to run another five years yet." The flattery did touch Sir Francis, and he began to ask himself whether he had gone too far with Miss Altifiorla.
"At any rate," said Captain McCollop, after a pause, "if you have made up your mind, you'd better write the letter." Sir Francis did not see the expediency of writing the letter immediately, but at last he gave way to his friend's arguments. And he did so the more readily as his friend was there to write the letter for him.
Upon this Captain McCollop merely shrugged his shoulders. "I'm d d if I put up with it. Look here! All her filthy progenitors put into the newspaper to show how grand she is." "I shouldn't care so very much about that," said the cautious Captain, who began to perceive that he need not be specially bitter against the lady. "You're not going to marry her." "Well, no; that's true."
"It's the kind of thing a man has to put up with when he gets married," said Captain McCollop, a gentleman who had already in some sort succeeded Dick Ross. "I don't suppose you think a man ever ought to be married." "Quite the contrary. When a man has a property he must be married. I suppose I shall have the McCollop acres some of these days myself."
"No; I am not; not what I call bound. She's a handsome woman you know, very handsome." "I suppose so." "And she'd do the drawing-room well, and the sitting at the top of the table, and all that kind of thing." "But it's such a deuced heavy price to pay," said Captain McCollop.
She was in all ways a true daughter to him, a comfort in his old age and last distressing illness, and when he died she mourned him sincerely. To the Scotch servants in her mother-in-law's house she was something of an enigma. One of them told her she "spoke English very well for a foreigner." One day she heard two of them talking about a Mr. McCollop who had just returned from Africa.
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