1 Harry still retained the other.
2 'I ask one promise,' said Harry.
3 'Another word, Rose,' said Harry.
4 'This is unkind, mother,' said Harry.
5 'You think so now, Harry,' replied his mother.
6 'Let it rest with Rose, then,' interposed Harry.
7 'It must have been a dream, Oliver,' said Harry Maylie.
8 Well,' rejoined Harry Maylie, smiling, 'you can do as you like.
9 The former now held out his hand to Harry Maylie; and hearty salutations were exchanged between them.
10 'You will tell me a different tale one of these days,' said Harry, colouring without any perceptible reason.
11 Harry,' said Mrs. Maylie, 'it is because I think so much of warm and sensitive hearts, that I would spare them from being wounded.
12 Oliver glanced at it, and saw that it was directed to Harry Maylie, Esquire, at some great lord's house in the country; where, he could not make out.
13 If your answer be what I almost dare to hope it is,' retorted Harry, 'it will shed a gleam of happiness upon my lonely way, and light the path before me.
14 At length, one morning, when Rose was alone in the breakfast-parlour, Harry Maylie entered; and, with some hesitation, begged permission to speak with her for a few moments.
15 Mr. Giles was at a loss to comprehend what this outcry meant; but Harry Maylie, whose perceptions were something quicker, and who had heard Oliver's history from his mother, understood it at once.
16 I beg your pardon, Mr. Harry,' said Giles: giving a final polish to his ruffled countenance with the handkerchief; 'but if you would leave the postboy to say that, I should be very much obliged to you.
17 Harry Maylie, after the very first morning when he met Oliver coming laden home, was seized with such a passion for flowers, and displayed such a taste in their arrangement, as left his young companion far behind.
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