"Oh! the boy 'means nothing—he never means any thing.'"
"Come, Vivian! we are going to part. Don't let us quarrel the last day. There, my little pet, there 's a sprig of myrtle for you!
'What! not accept my foolish flower?
Nay then, I am unblest indeed!'
and now you want it all! Oh, you unreasonable young man! If I were not the kindest lady in the land, I should tear this little sprig into a thousand pieces sooner; but come, my pretty pet! you shall have it. There! it looks quite imposing in your button-hole. How handsome you look to-day!"
"How agreeable you are to-day! I do so love compliments!"
"Oh! Vivian—will you never give me credit for any thing but a light and callous heart? Will you never be convinced that—that—but why make this humiliating confession? Oh! no, let me be misunderstood for ever! The