Richard Forrest, Bachelor — page 124: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

PLEDGING HIS WORD. 115 have entertained the thought for a moment, either, only, you know, you would not even meet me when our fathers —so desired that we should—meet.”’ She stammered over the last few words very prettily. — ‘So you knew!’’ he exclaimed, in surprise. ‘“Knew?’’ she echoed, with arippling laugh. ‘‘To besure I did. Why not? It was a pet scheme of my father’s and yours always that we should marry. That I ridiculed it goes without saying, but still I naturally had a tiny little speck of curiosity to see you. Evidently you were not so inclined about me, however, for you fled from me as though I had been the plague. It was dreadfully cowardly of you, too—dreadfully, because, of course, no harm would have been done if we had been introduced; I never should have married you had I lost my heart entirely (under the exist- ing circumstances), not for the world.”’ Arthur colored; he was somewhat nettled at her light, bantering tone. ‘‘But,’’ she continued, ‘‘you never gave me the opportu- nity.’’ ‘‘My dearest,’’ said Arthur, gravely, ‘‘I went away to avoid all complications; I knew no more about you than you did about me, so I concluded my best course was to leave the field entirely—for your sake as well as mine. The whole idea was so preposterous. I see plainly now that I acted unwisely, but you will forgive me, will you not? I rather imagine your father has; at any rate, I sincerely trust so.”’ ‘‘With all my heart,’’ she answered, ‘‘and please bear in mind, Iam only partly in earnest. I could not reproach you; [am sure you acted for the best, and all has turned out well.”’ Gomichbooksaco im