'Humph!' replied the doctor, 'I should expect to find such reason in Moorfields: besides, had not Mr Glenmurray's books turned your head, you would not have thought it pretty and right to become the mistress of any man: so he is your seducer, after all.' 'So far I plead guilty,' replied Glenmurray; 'but whatever my opinions are, I have ever been willing to sacrifice them to the welfare of Miss Mowbray, and have, from the first moment that we were safe from pursuit, been urgent to marry her.' 'Then why are you not married?' 'Because I would not consent,' said Adeline coldly. 'Mad, certainly mad,' exclaimed the doctor: 'but you, 'faith, you are an honest fellow after all,' turning to Glenmurray and shaking him by the hand; 'weak of the head, not bad in the heart; burn your vile books, and I am your friend for ever.' 'We will discuss that point another time,' replied Glenmurray: 'at present the most interesting subject to us is the question whether Mrs Mowbray will forgive her daughter or not?' 'Why, man, if I may judge of Mrs Mowbray by myself, one condition of her forgiveness will be your marrying her daughter.' 'O blest condition!' cried Glenmurray. 'I should think,' replied Adeline coldly, 'my mother must have had too much of marriage to wish me to marry; but if she should insist on my marrying, I will comply, and on no other account.' 'Strange infatuation! To me appears only justice and duty. But your reasons, girl, your reasons?' 'They are few, but strong. Glenmurray, philanthropically bent on improving the state of society, puts forth opinions counteracting its received usages, backed by arguments which are in my opinion incontrovertible.' 'In your opinion!--Pray, child, how old are you?' 'Nineteen.' 'And at that age you set up for a reformer? Well,--go on.'