Sir William:  “Margy, would you rather marry me or break your leg?”

Margot:  Break both, Sir William.”

After this promising beginning I was introduced to the young man. 
It was impossible to pay me less attention than he did.

Sir William had two daughters, one of whom was anxious to marry a major quartered in Edinburgh, but he was robustly and rudely against this, in consequence of which the girl was unhappy.  She took me into her confidence one afternoon in their schoolroom.

It was dark and the door was half open, with a bright light in the passage; Miss Miller was telling me with simple sincerity exactly what she felt and what her father felt about the major.  I suddenly observed Sir William listening to our conversation behind the hinges of the door.  Being an enormous man, he had screwed himself into a cramped posture and I was curious to see how long he would stick it out.  It was indique that I should bring home the proverbial platitude that “listeners never hear any good of themselves.”

Miss Miller:  “You see, there is only one real objection to him, he is not rich!”

I told her that as she would be rich some day, it did not matter.  Why should the rich marry the rich?  It was grotesque!  I intended to marry whatever kind of man I cared for and papa would certainly find the money.

Miss Miller (not listening):  “He loves me so!  And he says he will kill himself if I give him up now.”

Margot (with vigour):  “Oh, if he is that sort of man, a really brave fellow, there is only one thing for you both to do!”

Miss Miller (leaning forward with hands clasped and looking at me earnestly):  “Oh, tell me, tell me!”

Margot:  “Are you sure he is a man of dash?  Is he really unworldly and devoted?  Not afraid of what people say?”

Miss Miller (eagerly):  “No, no!  Yes, yes!  He would die for me, indeed he would, and is afraid of no one!”

Margot (luring her on):  “I expect he is very much afraid of your father.”

Miss Miller (hesitating):  “Papa is so rude to him.”

Margot (with scorn):  “Well, if your major is afraid of your father, I think nothing of him!” (Slight movement behind the door.)

Miss Miller (impulsively):  “He is afraid of no one!  But Papa never talks to him.”

Margot (very deliberately):  “Well, there is only one thing for you to do; and that is to run away!” (Sensation behind the door.)

Miss Miller (with determination, her eyes sparkling):  “If he will do it, I will!  But oh, dear! ...What will people say?  How they will talk!”

Margot (lightly):  “Oh, of course, if you care for what people say, you will be done all through life!”

Miss Miller:  “Papa would be furious, you know, and would curse fearfully!”