Poor Lindsay! It's confoundedly odd, though." "Well, Mrs.Lindsay--ahem--pray proceed, madam; let us come to the property.

How does your son stand in that respect ?" "He will have twelve hundred a year, my lord." "I told you before, Mrs.Lindsay, that I--don't like the future tense--the present for me.

What has he ?" "It can scarcely be called the future tense, my lord, which you seem to abhor so much.

Nothing stands between him and it but a dying girl." "How is that, madam ?" "Why, my lord, his Uncle Hamilton, my brother, had a daughter, an only child, who died of decline, as her mother before her did.

This foolish child was inveigled into an unaccountable affection for the daughter of Mr.Goodwin--a deep, designing, artful girl--who contrived to gain a complete ascendency over both father and daughter.