"No," Neil answered her. "She is never with them, and Bessie is no more
like her than you are. She is the purest, and sweetest and best girl I
ever knew, and I do not think it would hurt you or Blanche either to pay
her some attention;" and having said so much, the young man left the
room in time to escape Blanche's tears and his mother's anger and
reproaches.
The next day Neil was in a penitent frame of mind, for, however much he
might laugh at Blanche and her light eyebrows, and ridicule his mother's
plans for him in that quarter, he was not at all indifferent to the ten
thousand a year, and might perhaps wish to have it. Consequently he must
not drive Blanche too far, for she had a temper and a will, and there
was another cousin one degree further removed than himself, a
good-natured, good-looking and highly-aristocratic Jack Trevellian, who
was thirty years old, and a great favorite in the best society which
London afforded, and who, if a great-uncle and two cousins were to die
without heirs, would become Sir Jack, and who, it was thought, had an
eye on the ten thousand a year.
Pages:
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319