She did not know whether she cared much for living upon a
rock. Even stability may be purchased at too high a price. There was not a
grain of poetry in the whole composition of Lord Fawn, and poetry was what
her very soul craved--poetry, together with houses, champagne, jewels, and
admiration. Her income was still her own, and she did not quite see that
the rock was so absolutely necessary to her. Then she wrote another note
to Lord Fawn, a specimen of a note, so that she might have the opportunity
of comparing the two. This note took her much longer than the one first
written.
"MY LORD: I do not know how to acknowledge with sufficient humility the
condescension and great kindness of your lordship's letter. But perhaps
its manly generosity is more conspicuous than either. The truth is, my
lord, you want to escape from your engagement, but are too much afraid of
the consequences to dare to do so by any act of your own. Therefore you
throw it upon me. You are quite successful. I don't think you ever read
poetry, but perhaps you may understand the two following lines:
"'I am constrained to say your lordship's scullion
Should sooner be my husband than yourself.
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