“What is the matter with you?” “Of course you can't divine,” said he, sarcastically. “Oh yes, I can; and it is your own fault.” “My fault! That is a good joke. Did I invite this man with all his advantages? That was Vizard's doing, who calls himself my friend.” “If it was not this one, it would be some other. Can you hope to keep Zoe Vizard from being courted? Why, she is the beauty of the county! and her brother not married. It is no use your making love by halves to her. She will go to some man who is in earnest.” “And am I not in earnest?” “Not so much as he is. You have known her four months, and never once asked her to marry you.” “So I am to be punished for my self-denial.” “Self-denial! Nonsense. Men have no self-denial. It is your cowardice.” “Don't be cruel. You know it is my poverty.” “Your poverty of spirit. You gave up money for her, and that is as good as if you had it still, and better. If you love Zoe, scrape up an income somehow, and say the word. Why, Harrington is bewitched with you, and he is rolling in money. I wouldn't lose her by cowardice, if I were you. Uxmoor will offer marriage before he goes. He is staying on for that. Now, take my word for it, when one man offers marriage, and the other does not, there is always a good chance of the girl saying this one is in earnest, and the other is not. We don't expect self-denial in a man; we don't believe in it. We see you seizing upon everything else you care for; and, if you don't seize on us, it wounds our vanity, the strongest passion we have. Consider, Uxmoor has title, wealth, everything to bestow with the wedding-ring. If he offers all that, and you don't offer all you have, how much more generous he looks to her than you do!” “In short, you think she will doubt my affection, if I don't ask her to share my poverty.” “If you don't, and a rich man asks her to share his all, I'm sure she will. And so should I. Words are only words.” “You torture me. I'd rather die than lose her.” “Then live and win her. I've told you the way.” “I will scrape an income together, and ask her.” “Upon your honor?” “Upon my soul.” “Then, in my opinion, you will have her in spite of Lord Uxmoor.” Hot from this, Edward Severne sat down and wrote a moving letter to a certain cousin of his in Huntingdonshire.