Letitia was silent for a moment. Then she said in rather an offended tone:
"There 's nothing so dreadful about Tod. I don't like the way you speak about him. It sounds as if he was idiotic or deformed. I like him more than I do almost any one. I respect him, too. And then," she added, in one of her uncontrollable bursts of candor, "there 's nobody else wants to marry me."
Gault gave an annoyed ejaculation. The carriage turned from the main thoroughfare and began jolting over the cobbles of a paved street.
"Then wait till somebody better does," he said. "Heavens, Letitia! to think of you, that I 've always looked upon as a model of reason and sense and intelligence, throwing yourself away like this, when five—ten years from now will be time enough for you to marry."
"I 'll be twenty-seven next month," replied Letitia, with her ruthless regard for veracity.
The carriage here stopped at a high-stooped porch, and the coachman, alighting, delivered Letitia's message. While they waited, silence rested between its occupants, and continued when they were once more rattling over the uneven cobbles toward the wider street they had recently left.
Darkness had settled by this time, and the lamps were breaking out in every direction,
