Each Found Her Greatest Safety In Silence.

There Could Have Never Been Two Hearts So Open, No Tastes So Similar, No Feelings So In Unison, No Countenances So Beloved. Now They Were As Strangers; Nay, Worse Than Strangers, For They Could Never Become Acquainted. It Was A Perpetual Estrangement.

Run Mad As Often As You Choose, But Do Not Faint!

The Musgroves Had Had The Ill Fortune Of A Very Troublesome, Hopeless Son, And The Good Fortune To Lose Him Before He Reached His Twentieth Year.

But To Live In Ignorance On Such A Point Was Impossible.

From The Very Beginning— From The First Moment, I May Almost Say— Of My Acquaintance With You, Your Manners, Impressing Me With The Fullest Belief Of Your Arrogance, Your Conceit, And Your Selfish Disdain Of The Feelings Of Others, Were Such As To Form The Groundwork Of Disapprobation On Which Succeeding Events Have Built So Immovable A Dislike; And I Had Not Known You A Month Before I Felt That You Were The Last Man In The World Whom I Could Ever Be Prevailed On To Marry.