Dandy, my beloved, I shall be able to take
you with me.' And she caught up the rough-haired terrier and hugged him,
kissing his dear old head. 'Dandy is mine; they can't take him from me, can
they? But do you think the swans belong to them or to us? I suppose it
would be impossible to take them with us if we go to live in London. They
couldn't live in a backyard.'
'But, dearest Emily, who are "they"? You don't know that he is
married--literary men don't often marry. For all you know, he is a handsome
young man, who will fall madly in love with you.'
'No one ever fell in love with me except that horrid old man--how I hate
him, how I detest to think of it! I thought I should have died when he
asked to marry me. The very memory of it is enough to make me hate all men,
and prevent me from liking any one. I don't think I could like him; I
should always see that wicked old man's hoary, wrinkled face in his.'
'Oh, Emily, I cannot think how such ideas can come into your head. It is
not right, indeed it isn't.' And this simple Englishwoman looked at this
sensitive girl in sheer wonderment and alarm.
'I only say what I think. I am glad the old man did disinherit me. I'm glad
we are leaving Ashwood; I cannot abide the place when I think of him.
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