reasons for despair.

'She is as proud as a queen,' he had once said as he was rowing
from Hampton to Searle's Wharf, and lay on his oars as the
falling tide carried his boat softly past the green banks of
Richmond--'she is as proud as a queen, and yet as timid as a
fawn. She lets me tell her that I love her, but she will not say
a word to me in reply; as for touching her in the way of a
caress, I should as soon think of putting my arm round a
goddess.'

'And why not put your arms round a goddess?' said Alaric, who was
perhaps a little bolder than his friend, and a little less
romantic. To this Harry answered nothing, but, laying his back to
his work, swept on past the gardens of Kew, and shot among the
wooden dangers of Putney Bridge.

'I wish you could bring yourself to make up to Linda,' said he,
resting again from his labours; 'that would make the matter so
much easier.'

'Bring myself!' said Alaric; 'what you mean is, that you wish I
could bring Linda to consent to be made up to.'

'I don't think you would have much difficulty,' said Harry,
finding it much easier to answer for Linda than for her sister;
'but perhaps you don't admire her?'

'I think her by far the prettier of the two,' said Alaric.