"What is the 'yes,' of which you speak," she inquired, "and, on which you seem to lay so much stress?""That 'yes' has been my bane and antidote," answered Tom, rallying for a new and still more desperate charge. "When first pronounced by your rubicund lips, it thrilled on my amazed senses like a beacon of light--""Mr. Thurston--Mr. Thurston--what DO you mean?""Ah, d---n it," thought Tom, "I should have said HUMID light'--how the deuce did I come to forget that word--it would have rounded the sentence beautifully.""What do I mean, angel of 'humid light,'" answered Tom, aloud; "I mean all I say, and lots of feeling besides. When the heart is anguished with unutterable emotion, it speaks in accents that deaden all the nerves, and thrill the ears." Tom was getting to be animated, and when that was the case, his ideas flowed like a torrent after a thunder-shower, or in volumes, and a little muddily. "What do I mean, indeed; I mean to have YOU," he THOUGHT, "and at least, eighty thousand dollars, or dictionaries, Webster's inclusive, were made in vain.""This is very extraordinary, Mr. Thurston," rejoined Julia, whose sense of womanly propriety began to take the alarm; "and I must insist on an explanation. Your language would seem to infer--really, I do not know, what it does NOT seem to infer. Will you have the goodness to explain what you mean by that 'yes?'""Simply, loveliest and most benign of your sex, that once already, in answer to a demand of your hand, you deigned to reply with that energetic and encouraging monosyllable, yes--dear and categorical affirmative--" exclaimed Tom, going off again at half-cock, highly impressed with the notion that rhapsody, instead of music, was the food of love--"Yes, dear and categorical affirmative, with what ecstasy did not my drowsy ears drink in the melodious sounds--what extravagance of delight my throbbing heart echo its notes, on the wings of the unseen winds--in short, what considerable satisfaction your consent gave my pulsating mind!""Consent!--Consent is a strong WORD, Mr. Thurston!""It is, indeed, adorable Julia, and it is also a strong THING. I've known terrible consequences arise from the denial of a consent, not half as explicit as your own.""Consequences!--may I ask, sir, to what consequences you allude?""The consequences, Miss Monson--that is, the consequences of a violated troth, I mean--they may be divided into three parts--" here, Tom got up, brushed his knees, each in succession, with his pocket-handkerchief, and began to count on his fingers, like a lawyer who is summing up an argument--"Yes, Miss Julia, into three parts. First come the pangs of unrequited love; on these I propose to enlarge presently.
Next come the legal effects, always supposing that the wronged party can summon heart enough to carry on a suit, with bruised affections--""hang it," thought Tom, "why did I not think of that word 'bruised' while on my knees; it would tell like a stiletto--" "Yes, Miss Julia, if 'bruised affections' would permit the soul to descend to such preliminaries. The last consequence is, the despair of hope deferred.""All this is so extraordinary, Mr. Thurston, that I insist on knowing why you have presumed to address such language to me--yes, sir, INSISTon knowing your reason."
Tom was dumbfounded. Now, that he was up, and looking about him, he had an opportunity of perceiving that his mistress was offended, and that he had somewhat overdone the sublime, poetical and affecting.
With a sudden revulsion of feeling and tactics, he determined to throw himself, at once, into the penitent and candid.
