knew: Major George set off for Paris early one fine morning, and Miss
Constantia appeared at the breakfast-table with eyes red and swollen
with weeping. The nabob insisted on knowing what was the matter, and
why his favourite had taken flight so unceremoniously.

'You don't mean to say you've refused him, Niece Con?' cried her
uncle, 'for I know he meant to make you an offer of his hand and
heart.'

'O no, uncle, no!--impossible!' sobbed the weeping lady.

'Oh! deuce take your _impossibles_, Con Bonderlay. Tell me if the lad
asked you to marry him, and what your answer was?'

She hesitated--looked up--looked down--looked startled; and then
murmured, as if examining for the first time the word, as it slipped
musically from between her lips, 'Impossible!'

'Well, Niece Con, I think you're said _impossible_ once too often in
your life, if this is to be the upshot. Come now, be candid and don't
be a fool! Did you intend to refuse Major George?'

'Impossible!' was the reply; which, habitual as it was, burst forth
this time in a passion of tears and blushes.

Mr Elliston always affirmed that he saw at a glance how the matter
stood: that, in short, Major George had made a 'fool of himself.' The
lady had not _intended_ to reject him; but the major, from his shy,
shamefaced nature, on hearing Miss Constantia's fatal 'impossible!' in
reply to his love-suit, had flown from the scene of disappointment