If I liked the hero of the adventure--and I have liked some of my rejected flirtees, poor fellows!--I should admire his pluck, and fall straightway in love with him for his romantic daring.

It is so like what those old fellows--knights and barons and things--used to do, you know.

And if I didn't like him--if it were Sardonyx or Oleander--sure, there would be the fun and fame of having my name in all the papers in the country as the heroine of the most romantic adventure of modern times.

There would be sensation novels and high-pressure melodramas manufactured out of it, and I would figure in the Divorce Court, and wake up some day, like Lord Byron, and find myself famous." Miriam listened to this rattle with a face of infinite contempt.
"Silly child! It will ruin your prospects for life.

Sir Roger will never marry you now." "No," said Mollie, composedly, "I don't think he will; for the simple reason that I wouldn't have him." "Wouldn't have him?
What do you mean ?" "What I say, auntie.