"So, all unsuccessful men say!" she replied curtly.--"But,"--she went
on, putting aside all my literary prospects as beneath her notice, and
returning to the main point at issue,--"is _that_ all you have got to
depend upon for your anticipated wife and establishment?"
She smiled sweetly, playing with me as a cat would with a mouse.
"All I have, certainly, at present, Mrs Clyde,"--I said, abashed at the
sarcasm thus directed against my miserable income, which she did not
take the slightest pains to conceal.--"But I shall have more by-and-by.
We are both young; and, if you will only give me some hope of gaining
your consent, when I have achieved what you may consider sufficient for
the purpose, I will work for her and win her. O Mrs Clyde!"--I
pleaded,--"let me only have the assurance that you will allow her to
wait for me. I will work most nobly that I may deserve her!"
"All this is mere rhapsody, Mr Lorton,"--she said in her icy accents,
throwing a shower of metaphorical cold water on my earnest
enthusiasm.--"Do you seriously think for a moment that I would give my
consent to my daughter's engagement to you in your present position?"
"I hoped so, Mrs Clyde," I replied, timidly.