"I have indulged dreams of it, like others, but I cannot afford to indulge them seriously; a poor man, with uncertain prospects can only play the butterfly, perhaps to his life's end." He quitted the room as he spoke.

It was impossible for Isabel to misunderstand him, but a feeling shot across her mind, for the first time, that he was false and heartless.

One of the servants appeared, showing in Mr.Carlyle; nothing false or heartless about _him_.

He closed the door, and approached her, but she did not speak, and her lips were white and trembling.

Mr.Carlyle waited.
"Well," he said at length, in a gentle tone, "have you decided to grant my prayer ?" "Yes.