She reminded, him he had promised her to give Mr.
Severne a hint about Zoe.
"So I did," said he.
"And have you?"
"Well, no; to tell the truth, I forgot."
"Then please do it now; for they are going on worse than ever."
"I'll warn the fool," said he.
He did warn him, and in the following terms:
"Look here, old fellow. I hear you are getting awfully sweet on my sister
Zoe."
No answer. Severne on his guard.
"Now, you had better mind your eye. She is a very pretty girl, and you
may find yourself entangled before you know where you are."
Severne hung his head. "Of course, I know it is great presumption in me."
"Presumption? fiddlestick! Such a man as you are ought not to be tied to
any woman, or, if you must be, you ought not to go cheap. Mind, Zoe is a
poor girl; only ten thousand in the world. Flirt with whom you
like--there is no harm in that; but don't get seriously entangled with
any of them. Good sisters, and good daughters, and good flirts make bad
wives."
"Oh, then," said Severne, "it is only on my account you object."
"Well, principally. And I don't exactly object. I warn. In the first
place, as soon as ever we get into Barfordshire, she will most likely
jilt you.
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