"I'll beat her in the race if she doesn't.

If I should, I might furnish a new saw to the world: 'The suitor is not always to the beautiful, nor the husband to the soft of tongue.' I have a gallant." "So I have suspected of late," I answered.
"Yes, you're right--John Churchill," answered Sarah.
"He is a fine man," I returned.
"Yes," replied Sarah, apparently very serious, though there was a twinkle in her eye.

"But I'm not sure of him yet." Then with a sigh: "I would that I were.

If he knows what is for his own good, he'll speak soon, as I intend to make a duke of him before he dies, and the sooner we get at it the better.

A sensible conscience, prepense to its own interest, a good courtier, and a shrewd wife have made many a duke of far poorer material than my John." I laughed, and Sir Richard smiled, but we each seemed to feel that Sarah's words were prophetic, and the future bore us out, as all the world knows.
After waiting in my uncle's parlor an hour or more, hoping that Frances would arrive, I took my leave and walked down to the Old Swan, where I found her.