And it is well that had wit
To counsel silence and delay ;
And he has owned that I was right,
And things have proved it so to-day.
It is his father’s wish that he
Should spend abroad at least a year,
Before he settles gravely down
Into a well-worn office-chair.
His cousin― he is Clarence too―
(I always quiver at the name ;
And never can remember that
so many others have the same!)―
His cousin makes the tour with him ;
But then he says that we shall go
When we are married ; then he kissed
Away the sudden overflow
Of rebel tears that would not wait
Till I should find myself alone ;
I thinking that he would be gone
Till next year’s clematis was blown!
I know that all his friends would think
He would be wiser to go free ;
And if they thing were known, he says
‘T would make a tedious time for me.
He will not have me set apart
Like pictures placarded as “Sold” ;
He is not jealous of the state
My unclaimed maidenhood can hold.
And guessing some of her designs,
I sadly fear my mother’s frown,
Since Robert Graeme has fancied me,―
For he’s the richest man in town.