"
"How humiliating! He takes me for his inferior. His superiors he
always sneers at. If he had seen anything good or spirited in me, he
could not have helped detracting from me. Is not this a serious
reason--that I despise the person who now solicits my love, honor and
obedience? Well, then, there is another--a stronger still. But perhaps
you will call it a woman's reason."
"I know. You don't like him--that is, you fancy you don't, and can't."
"No, uncle, it is not that I don't like him. It is that I HATE HIM."
"You hate him?" and Mr. Fountain looked at her to see if it was his
niece Lucy who was uttering words so entirely out of character.
"I am but a poor hater. I have but little practice; but, with all the
power of hating I do possess, I hate that Mr. Talboys. Oh, how
delicious it is to speak one's mind out nice and rudely. It is a
luxury I seldom indulge in. Yes, uncle," said Lucy, clinching her
white teeth, "I hate that man, and I did hope his proposal would come
from himself; then there would have been nothing to alloy my quiet
satisfaction at mortifying one who is so ready to mortify others. But
no, he has bewitched you; and you take his part, and you look vexed;
so all my pleasure is turned to pain."
"It is all self-deception," gasped Fountain, in considerable
agitation; "you girls are always deceiving yourselves: you none of you
hate any man--unless you love him. He tells me you have encouraged him
of late. You had better tell me that is a lie.
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