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96 been.” “Really, Miss Catherine, how can I know?” I replied. “To be sure, considering the exhibition you performed in his presence this afternoon, I might say it would be wise to refuse him; since he asked you after that, he must be either hopelessly stupid or a venturesome fool.” “If you talk so, I won’t tell you any more,” she returned peevishly, rising to her feet. “I accepted him, Nelly. Be quick, and say whether I was wrong!” “You accepted him! then what good is it discussing the matter? You have pledged your word, and cannot retract.” “But, say whether I should have done so--do!” she exclaimed in an irritated tone, chafing her hands together, and frowning. “There are many things to be considered before that question can be answered properly,” I said sententiously. “First and foremost, do you love Mr. Edgar?” “Who can help it? Of course I do,” she answered. Then I put her through the following catechism: for a girl of twenty-two it was not injudicious. “Why do you love him, Miss Cathy?” “Nonsense, I do--that’s sufficient.” “By no means; you must say why.” “Well, because he is handsome, and pleasant to be with.” “Bad!” was my commentary. “And because he is young and cheerful.” “Bad, still.” “And because he loves me.” “Indifferent, coming there.” “And he will be rich, and I shall like to be the greatest woman of |