My uncle, always kind and good to me, has been kinder and better than ever.
He has told me that if I persist in becoming your wife, I shall not be deserted on my wedding-day.

Wherever we may marry, he will be there to read the service, and my aunt will go to the church with me.

But he entreats me to consider seriously what I am doing--to consent to a separation from you for a time--to consult other people on my position toward you, if I am not satisfied with his opinion.

Oh, my darling, they are as anxious to part us as if you were the worst instead of the best of men!" "Has anything happened since yesterday to increase their distrust of me ?" he asked.
"Yes." "What is it ?" "You remember referring my uncle to a friend of yours and of his ?" "Yes.

To Major Fitz-David." "My uncle has written to Major Fitz-David." "Why ?" He pronounced that one word in a tone so utterly unlike his natural tone that his voice sounded quite strange to me.
"You won't be angry, Eustace, if I tell you ?" I said.