I am quite ready to acknowledge Mr.Pallinson's merits and accomplishments, but I do not think him worthy of you." "It is rather awful, isn't it, for me to speak of marriage at all within a few months of my husband's death?
But when a woman has money, people will not allow her to forget that she is a widow for ever so short a time.

But it is quite a question if I shall ever marry again.

I have very little doubt that real happiness is most likely to be found in a wise avoidance of all the perils and perplexities of that foolish passion which we read of in novels, if one could only be wise; don't you think so, Mr.Fenton ?" "My own experience inclines me to agree with you, Mrs.Branston," Gilbert answered, smiling at the little woman's naivete.
"Your own experience has been unfortunate, then?
I wish I were worthy of your confidence.

Mr.Saltram told me some time ago that you were engaged to a very charming young lady." "The young lady in question has jilted me." "Indeed! And you are very angry with her, of course ?" "I loved her too well to be angry with her.

I reserve my indignation for the scoundrel who stole her from me." "It is very generous of you to make excuses for the lady," Mrs.Branston said; and would fain have talked longer of this subject, but Gilbert concluded his visit at this juncture, not caring to discuss his troubles with the sympathetic widow.
He left the great gloomy gorgeous house in Cavendish square more than ever convinced of Adela Branston's affection for his friend, more than ever puzzled by John Saltram's indifference to so advantageous an alliance.
Within a few days of this visit Gilbert Fenton left London.