You Mocking Changeling- Fairy-born And Human-bred!

It Does Good To No Woman To Be Flattered [by A Man] Who Does Not Intend To Marry Her; And It Is Madness In All Women To Let A Secret Love Kindle Within Them, Which, If Unreturned And Unknown, Must Devour The Life That Feeds It; And, If Discovered And Responded To, Must Lead, Ignis-fatuus-like, Into Miry Wilds Whence There Is No Extrication.

In Sunshine, In Prosperity, The Flowers Are Very Well; But How Many Wet Days Are There In Life—november Seasons Of Disaster, When A Man's Hearth And Home Would Be Cold Indeed, Without The Clear, Cheering Gleam Of Intellect.

Reader, I Literally Married Him.

Amid The Worry Of A Self- Condemnatory Soliloquy, His Demeanour Seemed Grave, Perhaps Cold, Both To Me And His Mother. And Yet There Was No Bad Feeling, No Malice, No Rancour, No Littleness In His Countenance, Beautiful With A Man's Best Beauty, Even In Its Depression. When I Placed His Chair At The Table, Which I Hastened To Do, Anticipating The Servant, And When I Handed Him His Tea, Which I Did With Trembling Care, He Said: "thank You, Lucy," In As Kindly A Tone Of His Full Pleasant Voice As Ever My Ear Welcomed.

I Like Rudeness A Great Deal Better Than Flattery.