Do you wish your daughter to be the wife of a miserable signal-station keeper, when she may become Lady Wychecombe, with a little prudent management, and the mistress of this capital old house, and noble estate ?" "Father--father," interrupted Mildred, soothingly, though ready to sink with shame at the idea of Admiral Bluewater's being an auditor of such a conversation; "you forget yourself, and overlook my wishes.

There is little probability of Mr.Thomas Wychecombe's ever thinking of me as a wife--or, indeed of anyone else's entertaining such thoughts." "That will turn out, as you manage matters, Milly.

Mr.Thomas Wychecombe does not think of you as a _wife_, quite likely, just at this moment; but the largest whales are taken by means of very small lines, when the last are properly handled.

This young lieutenant would have you to-morrow; though a more silly thing than for you two to marry, could not well be hit upon.

He is only a lieutenant; and though his name is so good a one, it does not appear that he has any particular right to it." "And yet, Dutton, you were only a lieutenant when _you_ married, and your name was _nothing_ in the way of interest, or preferment," observed the mother, anxious to interpose some new feeling between her daughter, and the cruel inference left by the former part of her husband's speech.
"We _then_ thought all lay bright before us!" "And so all would lie to this hour, Mrs.Dutton, but for that one silly act of mine.