But your father is going to marry a most excellent and most estimable woman; his affection is not wholly his daughter's any longer; she must stand a little in the shade, and see another reign where she used to be queen.

She cannot hold the first place in her father's heart and home; so she is ready to leave that home with the first man who asks her.

She does not love him; there is no sympathy or feeling in common between them; they are not even of the same religion; she knows that she will be wretched, and that she will make him wretched too.

But what does it all matter?
Her pride is to be wounded, her self-love humiliated, and every other consideration must yield to that.

She is ready to commit perjury, to swear to love and honour a man who is no more to her than that peasant walking along the road.