'
Doctor Bryerly by this time was looking into his pocket-book, and did not
acknowledge my thanks even by a nod.
'I must be in London the day after to-morrow. Bartram-Haugh is nearly sixty
miles from here, and only twenty of that by rail, I find. Forty miles of
posting over those Derbyshire mountains is slow work; but if you say _try_,
I'll see him to-morrow morning.'
'You must say try--you _must_, my dear Maud.'
'But how can I decide in a moment? Oh, dear Cousin Monica, I am so
distracted!'
'But _you_ need not decide at all; the decision rests with _him_. Come; he
is more competent than you. You _must_ say yes.'
Again I looked from her to Doctor Bryerly, and from him to her again. I
threw my arms about her neck, and hugging her closely to me, I cried--
'Oh, Cousin Monica, dear Cousin Monica, advise me. I am a wretched
creature. You must advise me.'
I did not know till now how irresolute a character was mine.
I knew somehow by the tone of her voice that she was smiling as she
answered--
'Why, dear, I have advised you; I _do_ advise you;' and then she added,
impetuously, 'I entreat and implore, if you really think I love you, that
you will _follow_ my advice.
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