Oh, Mr. Saul, of course I can assure you at once," said Fanny. "There
need not be any consideration. I really have never thought--" Fanny, who
knew her own mind on the matter thoroughly, was hardly able to express
herself plainly and without incivility. As soon as that phrase "of
course" had passed her lips, she felt that it should not have been
spoken. There was no need that she should insult him by telling him that
such a proposition from him could have but one answer.

"No, Miss Clavering; I know you have never thought of it, and therefore
it would be well that you should take time. I have not been able to make
manifest to you by little signs, as men do who are less awkward, all the
love that I have felt for you. Indeed, could I have done so, I should
still have hesitated till I had thoroughly resolved that I might be
better with a wife than without one, and had resolved also, as far as
that might be possible for me, that you also would be better with a
husband."

"Mr. Saul, really that should be for me to think of."

"And for me also. Can any man offer to marry a woman--to bind a woman
for life to certain duties, and to so close an obligation, without
thinking whether such bonds would be good for her as well as for
himself? Of course, you must think for yourself--and so have I thought
for you. You should think for yourself, and you should think also for
me."

Fanny was quite aware that, as regarded herself, the matter was one
which required no more thinking. Mr. Saul was not a man with whom she
could bring herself to be in love. She had her own ideas as to what was
loveable in men, and the eager curate, splashing through the rain by her
side, by no means came up to her standard of excellence. She was
unconsciously aware that he had altogether mistaken her character, and
given her credit for more abnegation of the world than she pretended to
possess, or was desirous of possessing. Fanny Clavering was in no hurry
to get married. I do not know that she had even made up her mind that
marriage would be a good thing for her; but she bad an untroubled
conviction that, if she did marry, her husband should have a house and
an income. She had no reliance on her own power of living on a potato,
and with one new dress every year. A comfortable home, with nice,
comfortable things around her, ease in money matters and elegance in
life, were charms with which she had not quarrelled, and, though she did
not wish to be hard upon