“Of course⁠—she don’t like it⁠—but must be done⁠—avert suspicion⁠—afraid of her brother⁠—says there’s no help for it⁠—only a few days more⁠—when old folks blinded⁠—crown your happiness.”

“Any message?”

“Love⁠—best love⁠—kindest regards⁠—unalterable affection. Can I say anything for you?”

“My dear fellow,” replied the unsuspicious Mr. Tupman, fervently grasping his “friend’s” hand⁠—“carry my best love⁠—say how hard I find it to dissemble⁠—say anything that’s kind: but add how sensible I am of the necessity of the suggestion she made to me, through you, this morning. Say I applaud her wisdom and admire her discretion.”

“I will. Anything more?”

“Nothing, only add how ardently I long for the time when I may call her mine, and all dissimulation may be unnecessary.”