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50 man I love above everybody, above everybody. . . . But I suppose you're laughing. . . at my bread-and-butter notions. . ."

"No, I'm not laughing, Marianne; and, just as you would like to see Aunt Constance and me happy, so I should like to see you happy . . . with a man whom you loved."

"That will never be, Uncle; no, that will never be."

"How can you tell?"

"Oh, I feel it, I feel it! . . ."

"Come, I'll have a bet on it," he said, laughingly.

"No, Uncle," she said, with a pained smile, "I won't bet on a thing like that . . ."

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Marianne . . ."

"I know that . . ."

"But you mustn't be so melancholy, at your age. You're so young . . ."

"Twenty-one. That's quite old."

"Old! Old! What about me?"

She laughed:

"Oh, you're young! A man . . ."

"Is always young?"

"Not always. But you are."

"A young uncle?"

"Yes, a young uncle . . . A woman gets old quicker . . ."