Cynthia lifted her bowed-down head, and looked at him.

"My dear Glencora, if I am to give my cousin money I shall do so by putting my hand into my own pocket in preference to that of any other person."

"I was speaking to my friends, Lord Nidderdale and Mr. Longestaffe, and not to you."

She laid her hand on the hot damp skin of the horse's shoulder; the man started.

"I had hoped that the office was one which you would like."

"I am told that he is taking Madame Melmotte with him, and Melmotte's daughter."

"Indeed! I should not have fancied he had liked the engagement so much."

"I suppose so. I can never quite forgive Lady Glencora for her intimacy with that woman."

"It don't much signify. Well;—I'll go on with Mrs. Hurtle, if she'll have me."

"I don't know. I don't know what Frenchwomen are like. People say Cynthia is French."

"No; not till I am your wife. You must trust me. But I will tell you," she said, "lest you should be miserable. He asked me to be his wife."

It is rumoured that Barrington Erle is to be made Secretary for Ireland, but his friends doubt whether the office will suit him.

"I shall never marry."

"You have the happy gift of making people love you. Remember Mr. Preston,—he too wouldn't give up hope."

"I am not going to thank you, Molly, or to tell you how I love you."

"Leave it to those to whom it is necessary. I dislike planning marriages or looking forward to deaths about equally."

"I shall never try, father. Don't let us talk any more about it. As I said before, it's too late."

"To be sure. And you will see your father. But I don't heave such portentous sighs at the thought."

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