I know he looks jealously on my flirtation with a certain lady--the dasher yonder--nothing makes a man sensible of the value of an opportunity, but the chance of losing it." "I wish to Heaven you would give up thoughts of Miss Mowbray!" said Jekyl; "and take Tyrrel's offer, if he has the means of making it good." "Ay, if--if.

But I am quite sure he has no such rights as he pretends to, and that his papers are all a deception .-- Why do you put your eye upon me as fixed as if you were searching out some wonderful secret ?" "I wish I knew what to think of your real _bona fide_ belief respecting these documents," said Jekyl, not a little puzzled by the steady and unembarrassed air of his friend.
"Why, thou most suspicious of coxcombs," said Etherington, "what the devil would you have me say to you ?--Can I, as the lawyers say, prove a negative?
or, is it not very possible, that such things may exist, though I have never seen or heard of them?
All I can say is, that of all men I am the most interested to deny the existence of such documents; and, therefore, certainly will not admit of it, unless I am compelled to do so by their being produced; nor then either, unless I am at the same time well assured of their authenticity." "I cannot blame you for your being hard of faith, my lord," said Jekyl; "but still I think if you can cut out with your earldom, and your noble hereditary estate, I would, in your case, pitch Nettlewood to the devil." "Yes, as you pitched your own patrimony, Jekyl; but you took care to have the spending of it first .-- What would _you_ give for such an opportunity of piecing your fortunes by marriage ?--Confess the truth." "I might be tempted, perhaps," said Jekyl, "in my present circumstances; but if they were what they have been, I should despise an estate that was to be held by petticoat tenure, especially when the lady of the manor was a sickly fantastic girl, that hated me, as this Miss Mowbray has the bad taste to hate you." "Umph--sickly ?--no, no, she is not sickly--she is as healthy as any one in constitution--and, on my word, I think her paleness only renders her more interesting.

The last time I saw her, I thought she might have rivalled one of Canova's finest statues." "Yes; but she is indifferent to you--you do not love her," said Jekyl.
"She is any thing but indifferent to me," said the Earl; "she becomes daily more interesting--for her dislike piques me; and besides, she has the insolence openly to defy and contemn me before her brother, and in the eyes of all the world.

I have a kind of loving hatred--a sort of hating love for her; in short, thinking upon her is like trying to read a riddle, and makes one make quite as many blunders, and talk just as much nonsense.

If ever I have the opportunity, I will make her pay for all her airs." "What airs ?" said Jekyl.
"Nay, the devil may describe them, for I cannot; but, for example--Since her brother has insisted on her receiving me, or I should rather say on her appearing when I visit Shaws-Castle, one would think her invention has toiled in discovering different ways of showing want of respect to me, and dislike to my presence.