Dearest, you are worthy of a duke, a prince--" She put her hand up to his lips to silence the lover's extravagant flattery.
"It is not that--the difference--which is all to your advantage," she said.

"My father may think of it," she went on with innocent candour.
"But it would be the same if you were of the highest rank.

He does not want me to leave him." "And if he were less anxious to keep you he would not give you to me, who am, in his opinion, and rightly, so much your inferior," said Stafford.

"But I ought to go to him, dearest.

I ought to go to-morrow." She trembled a little as she nestled against him.