the stock and furniture were your own, and you were a distinguished agricultural character, as Mr. Borthrop Trumbull says—rather stout, I fear, and with the Greek and Latin sadly weatherworn?”
“You don’t mean anything except nonsense, Mary?” said Fred, coloring slightly nevertheless.
“That is what my father has just told me of as what may happen, and he never talks nonsense,” said Mary, looking up at Fred now, while he grasped her hand as they walked, till it rather hurt her; but she would not complain.
“Oh, I could be a tremendously good fellow then, Mary, and we could be married directly.”
“Not so fast, sir; how do you know that I would not rather defer our marriage for some years? That would leave you time to misbehave, and then if I liked someone else better, I should have an excuse for jilting you.”