Beadle's Dime Novels No. 115: The Sons of Liberty — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

46 THE SONS OF LIBERTY. the house. But he intercepted her, and begged a moment’s time. He had a pressing communication to make, he said. She stopped and stood leaning against a tree, in a very grace- ful attitude. He dismounted, and attempted to take her hand. But she quietly repulsed him. “What have you tq say to me, sir?” “Somethis g which I have had in my heart to say cver since we met first. I love you. I have never learned to mask my words, and the plain declaration springs first to my lips. I wish to make you my wife.” “T can hardly believe,” said Miriam, “ that one who claims to be the son of an English baronet could insult me intention- ally, and yet I must either believe this or that your intellect is at fault. What particular folly of mine induced you to believe. that I would yield to a demand of this kind ?” “ Do you take it as an insult, when a man tells you that Le loves you ?” “From some men, I should take it as a high honor and answer it so, even while I declined it; but when a Tory, whose every feeling is enmity to my father and brothers’ principles, makes such an avowal, I think he must have a very poor opinion of me indeed. Sir, lam a Whig. I glory in it, and would sooner wed that scourge whom they call Thayendanegea, than with you, because he lives according to the light he has. Take that for an answer, sir.” “You do me great wrong,” said Guy, angrily, putting her back as she attempted to pass him. My love for you is as pure, by heaven, as any man ever felt fora woman. If I am a Tory, as you.say, 1 was brought up in that creed. I do not consider it a disgrace to honor the king who has granted knighthood to my. father, and has heaped honors upon our family. We. should be worse than ungrateful*if we turned upon him now, like hungry dogs, because he asks us to pay & few shillings upon tea, paper and glass. I offer you my amet not as an insult to you, for I do not think an offer from the son of a baronet such an insult to the daughter of a poor farmer.” “The daughter of a poor farmer, as you call me, rejects yuch an offer with the scorn it justly merits. [ think you had better cease, sir. I warn you that any entreaties you may CoOnmmicloooks. colin