I had a good look at him.

I saw that he fixed his eyes on you with--oh! _such_ a queer look.

And he was awfully sad too.

He looked as if he would like to seize you and lift you on his horse and carry you off, just like young Lochinvar." "Me!" said Mrs.Willoughby, with a strange intonation.
"Yes, you--oh yes; really now." "Oh, you little goose, you always think of people rushing after one and carrying one off." "Well, I'm sure I've had reason to.

So many people have always been running after me, and snatching me up as if I were a parcel, and carrying me every where in all sorts of places.