"On the other hand, she might.
Besides, Mr.Denzil, however much the world may have altered since my youth, I have yet to learn that it is the lady's part to propose to the gentleman." "But, Miss Barbar, I am poor!" "What of that?
Diana is rich." "Don't I know it?
For that very reason I hesitate to ask her." "Because you are afraid of being called a fortune-hunter, I suppose," said the old lady drily.

"That shows a lack of moral courage which is not worthy of you, Mr.Denzil.Take an old woman's advice, young man, and put your fortunes to the test.

Remember Montrose's advice in the song." "You approve of my marrying Diana--I mean Miss Vrain ?" "From what I have seen of you, and from what Diana has told me about you, I could wish her no better husband.

Poor girl! After the tragical death of her father, and her wretched life with that American woman, she deserves a happy future." "And do you think--do you really think that she--that she--would be happy with--with me ?" stammered Lucian, hardly daring to believe Miss Priscilla, whose acquaintance with him seemed too recent to warrant such trust.
The wise old woman laughed and nodded.
"Ask her yourself, my dear," she said, patting his hand.

"She will be able to answer that question better than I.Besides, girls like to say 'yea' or 'nay,' themselves." This seemed to be good advice, and certainly none could have been more grateful to the timid lover.