John Oliver Hobbes

“ Carlotta could not think she was unhappy. Every circumstance forbade the suspicion. As for Emily herself, she tried to believe—and to a certain extent succeeded in believing—that she was supremely contented. To be pretty, to be rich, to have a devoted lover—could she ask for more ? To Go as much as one could, and Think as little as one might, was the secret of happiness.
"Thought should be unconscious," said Sir Richard; "it is a natural process like digestion." ”

“ Besides—I was in fun."
"I was not."
"Well, what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to marry me."
"Marriage is so dull, Richard. There would be no more Herrick. . . . We are so happy as we are. Why spoil it? Men are never satisfied!"
"Yes, they are. If it were not for that Molle person and Carlotta! Shall we ever be alone together—ever able to talk except five yards apart, with our eyes on the door or some old woman? I am sick of it. This is the sort of thing that drives people into matrimony. Don't laugh at me—it is. Emily, meet me in town on Monday. ”

“ Emily remembered the last look he gave her. "Well, I suppose he is more sorry for me than anything. It was so unpleasant, you know—he happened to come into the music-room [3] when that stupid Richard was kissing my hand. I couldn't explain that it really wasn't my fault. I don't suppose I shall ever see him again. I don't care a bit—only—it isn't nice to know that he has got quite a wrong impression of me."
"One of these days," said Carlotta, "your flirting will bring you unhappiness. Sir Richard is not a man who will stand nonsense." ”