laring to herself from morning to night that, in
spite of all his manifest wickedness in having talked of Boulogne,
she never could care at all for any other man. And now there was this
aggravation to her misery,--this horrid suitor, who disgraced her by
making those around her suppose it to be possible that she should
ever accept him; who had probably heard of her quarrel, and had been
mean enough to suppose that therefore there might be a chance for
himself! She did despise him, and wanted him to understand that she
despised him.

"I believe I am in a condition to offer my hand and fortune to any
young lady without impropriety," said Mr. Spooner.

"I don't know anything about your condition."

"But I will tell you everything."

"I don't want to know anything about it."

"I have an estate of--"

"I don't want to know about your estate. I won't hear about your
estate. It can be nothing to me."

"It is generally considered to be a matter of some importance."

"It is of no importance to me, at all, Mr. Spooner; and I won't hear
anything about it. If all the parish belonged to you, it would not
make any difference."

"All the parish does belong to me, and nearly all the next," replied
Mr. Spooner, with great dignity.

"Then you'd better find some lady who would like to have two
parishes. They haven't any weight with me at all." At that moment she
told herself how much she would prefer even Boulogne, to Mr.
Spooner's two parishes.

"What is it that you find so wrong about me?" asked the unhappy
suitor.

Adelaide looked at him, and longed to tell him that his nose was red.
And, though she would not quite do that, she could not bring herself
to spare him. What right had he to come to her,--a nasty, red-nosed
old man, who knew nothing about anything but foxes and horses,--to
her, who had never given him the encouragement of a single smile? She
could not allude to his nose, but in regard to his other defects she
would not spare him. "Our tastes are not the same, Mr. Spooner."

"You are very fond of hunting."

"And our ages are not the same."

"I always thought that there should be a difference of age," said Mr.
Spooner, becoming very red.

"And,--and,--and,--it's altogether quite preposterous. I don't
believe that you can really think it yourself."

"But I do."

"Then you must unthink it. And, indeed, Mr. Spooner, since you drive
me to say so,--I consider it to be very unmanly of you, after what
Lord C