the talking. She has plenty to say to him; she describes to him the charms that she discovers in the path of duty. He seldom speaks in the House, I believe, but when he does it's off-hand, and amusing, and sensible, and every one likes it. He will never be a great statesman, but he will add to the softness of Dorsetshire, and remain, in short, a very gallant, pleasant, prosperous, typical English gentleman, with a name, a fortune, a perfect appearance, a devoted, bewildered little wife, a great many reminiscences, a great many friends (including Lady Vandeleur and myself), and, strange to say, with all these advantages, something that faintly resembles a conscience.
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Five years ago he told me his father insisted on his marryingwould not hear of his putting it off any longer. Sir Edmund had been harping on this string ever since he came back from Germany, had made it both a general and a particular request, not only urging him to matrimony in the abstract, but pushing him into the arms of every young woman in the country. Ambrose had promised, procrastinated, temporised; but at last he was at the end of his evasions, and his poor father had taken the tone of supplication. He thinks immensely of the name, of the place, and all that, and he has got it into his head that if I don't marry before he dies I won't marry after. So much I remember Ambrose Tester said to me. It's a fixed idea; he has got it on the brain. He wants to see me married with his eyes, and he wants to take his grandson in his arms. Not without that will he be satisfied that the whole thing will go straight. He thinks he is nearing his end, but he isn'the will live to see a hundred, don't you think so?and he has made me a solemn appeal to put an end to what he calls his suspense. He has an idea some one will get hold of mesome woman I can't marry. As if I were not old enough to take care of myself!
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Perhaps he is afraid of me, I suggested, facetiously.
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No, it isn't you, said my visitor, betraying by his tone that it was some one, though he didn't say whom. That's all rot, of course; one marries sooner or later, and I shall do like
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