At any rate, she did not marry me, her first love, but jilted me most abominably for Latimer.

So I shall heap five thousand pounds on her head.
I have been unfortunate in my love affairs.

I wonder why?
Which reminds me that I made the identical remark to Lucy Latimer a month or two ago.
(She is a plump, kind, motherly, unromantic little person now.) She had the audacity to reply that I had never had any.
"_You_, Lucy Crooks, dare say such a thing!" I exclaimed indignantly.
She smiled.

"Are there many more qualified than I to give the opinion ?" I remember that I rose and looked her sternly in the face.
"Lucy Crooks or Lucy Latimer," said I, "you are nothing more or less than a common hussy." Whereupon she laughed as if I had paid her a high compliment.
I maintain that I have been unfortunate in my love affairs.

First, there was an angel-faced widow, a contemporary of my mother's, whom I wooed in Greek verses--and let me tell the young lover that it is much easier to write your own doggerel and convert it into Greek than to put "To Althea" into decent Anacreontics.