And as for 'resuming,' dear uncle, I really have never given up my irregular manner of life.

What, for me, could be more irregular than this ?" "Than what ?" asked Mr.Wentworth, with his pale gravity.
"Well, than everything! Living in the midst of you, this way; this charming, quiet, serious family life; fraternizing with Charlotte and Gertrude; calling upon twenty young ladies and going out to walk with them; sitting with you in the evening on the piazza and listening to the crickets, and going to bed at ten o'clock." "Your description is very animated," said Mr.Wentworth; "but I see nothing improper in what you describe." "Neither do I, dear uncle.

It is extremely delightful; I should n't like it if it were improper.

I assure you I don't like improper things; though I dare say you think I do," Felix went on, painting away.
"I have never accused you of that." "Pray don't," said Felix, "because, you see, at bottom I am a terrible Philistine." "A Philistine ?" repeated Mr.Wentworth.
"I mean, as one may say, a plain, God-fearing man." Mr.Wentworth looked at him reservedly, like a mystified sage, and Felix continued, "I trust I shall enjoy a venerable and venerated old age.

I mean to live long.
I can hardly call that a plan, perhaps; but it 's a keen desire--a rosy vision.