She was a good woman; she would have
ruled his house well; she would have been just to his children; and if
he had established her in all comfort and elegance over his family, he
might have left her, and attended to those prospective Parliamentary
duties as long as he liked, without annoying her. She was a lady too,
and her mother, old Lady Fairbairn, was a pleasant and unexceptionable
woman. But she was making herself ridiculous now. No; it would not do.
Giving her up then and there, he suddenly started from his seat as if he
felt relieved, and drawing himself to his full height, looked down on
the two ladies, one of whom, lifting her golden head, continued the
wooing with her eyes, while the other said carelessly and with a
dispassionate air--
"Well, I cannot think how you or John or any one can like that
bitter-hearted, odious, cruel Dante."
"Emily," exclaimed Miss Fairbairn, "how can you be so absurd, dear?"
"I wonder they did not tear him into little bits," continued Emily
audaciously, "instead of merely banishing him, which was all they
did--wasn't it, John?"
"I cannot imagine what you mean," exclaimed Miss Fairbairn, while John
laughed, and felt that at least here was something real and natural.
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