"
"I shall say what I please of her. You and I are to be friends, and I may
not speak? No; I will have no such friendship! She is demure. If you like
it, what harm is there in my saying it? I am not demure. I know that. I do
not, at least, pretend to be other than I am. When she becomes your wife,
I wonder whether you will like her ways?" He had not yet told her that she
was to be his wife, nor did he so tell her now. He thought for a moment
the he had better tell her, but he did not do so. It would, he said to
himself, add an embarrassment to his present position. And as the marriage
was to be postponed for a year, it might be better, perhaps, for Lucy that
it should not be declared openly. It was thus he argued with himself, but
yet, no doubt, he knew well that he did not declare the truth because it
would take away something of its sweetness from this friendship with his
cousin Lizzie.
"If I ever do marry," he said, "I hope I shall like my wife's ways."
"Of course you will not tell me anything. I do not expect confidence from
you. I do not think a man is ever able to work himself up to the mark of
true confidence with his friend.
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