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Had I the love of such as he, Some quiet spot he'd take me to, Then he could whisper it to me, And I could whisper it to you. But whispering, I've somewhere met, Is contrary to etiquette: Where can it be? [Searching book. Now let me see—&emsp; [Finding reference. Yes, yes! It's contrary to etiquette! [Showing it to

If any well-bred youth I knew, Polite and gentle, neat and trim, Then I would hint as much to you, And you could hint as much to him. But here it says, in plainest print, "It's most unladylike to hint"— You may not hint, You must not hint— It says you mustn't hint, in print!

And if I loved him through and through— (True love and not a passing whim), Then I could speak of it to you, And you could speak of it to him. But here I find it doesn't do To speak until you're spoken to. Where can it be? [Searching book. Now let me see—&emsp; [Finding reference. "Don't speak until you're spoken to!" [Exit

Poor Aunt! Little did the good soul think, when she breathed the hallowed name of Robin, that he would do even as well as another. But he resembleth all the youths in this village, in that he is unduly bashful in my presence, and lo, it is hard to bring him to the point. But soft, he is here!