"You want to make me cry, but you won't do it. And once for all, just understand this little point. I don't care a rap--as you elegantly express it--what airs you put on to exasperate me. Because I am certain that you understand me, George. All the very small things you say--and you have a low gift of walking under your own feet--all of them--what I mean is, none of them have the smallest effect upon my poor mind. In the first place, I am not clever, any more than you are. And if I were, I should only use it to make you more and more fond of me, instead of endeavouring to make you feel small. But, oh, George, I never thought that you would scheme to sell me!" "All this is Abracadabra to me," I replied quickly, in fear of a torrent. For when a girl tells you that she won't cry, you may almost always see her fingers getting ready for her handkerchief. "How innocent you look! But just one little question. Did you not send Mr. Stoneman Jackson to propose to me, this very evening?" "Nothing of the sort. And as if you did not know his name! I have not even seen him, since that day when you were cutting such a shine in the sun, as the frugal, virtuous, and lovely milkmaid. That is what has fetched him; not your stupid brother." I owed her a cut or two, as everybody will perceive. "George, you are cruel, even more than crafty. As if I did anything so low as that! But will you assure me, upon your honour, that you did not encourage him to--to try what he has been trying?" "Not only that, but I did all I could to damp him off, so far as such a dry fellow could be damped. I told him to hold off, while the Earl was in the running." "There was no Earl in the running. This is too bad of you. It was only the walking that Lord Melladew went in for, and I am sure he meant no harm by that." "Well, he made the running fast enough, when they peppered his gaiters, and some one else did the tumbling. But I told Jackson to hold off, for I was sure that he had no chance yet. He is a decent sort of fellow enough in his way; but what chance could he have against a belted Earl, and a gaitered Earl too, who can shriek in sonnets? Poor Stoneman could scarcely put thumb to rhyme with mum; and mum he should have been, though it is rather hard upon him. Never mind, he can find some other girl, when he gets over it. I heard of a Duke's daughter who was wild to catch him. But he is much too hard hit, to think of any one for years."