man I love above everybody, above everybody. . . . But I suppose you're laughing . . . at my bread-and-butter notions . . ."
"No, I'm not laughing, Marianne; and, just as you would like to see Aunt Constance and me happy, so I should like to see you happy . . . with a man whom you loved."
"That will never be, Uncle; no, that will never be."
"How can you tell?"
"Oh, I feel it, I feel it! . . ."
"Come, I'll have a bet on it," he said, laughingly.
"No, Uncle," she said, with a pained smile, "I won't bet on a thing like that . . ."
"I didn't mean to hurt you, Marianne . . ."
"I know that . . ."
"But you mustn't be so melancholy, at your age. You're so young . . ."
"Twenty-one. That's quite old."
"Old! Old! What about me?"
She laughed:
"Oh, you're young! A man . . ."
"Is always young?"
"Not always. But you are."
"A young uncle?"
"Yes, a young uncle . . . A woman gets old quicker . . ."
