"But, if you call Melinda 'common,' where shall
I go to find one who may be called 'uncommon?'"
"I can point you to one."
"Say on."
"You have met Fanny Clayton?"
"Fanny Clayton!" ejaculated the young man, taken by surprise, the
blood rising to his face. "O yes, I have met her."
"She is no common girl, Henry," Mrs. Florence said, in a serious
voice. "She has not her equal in my circle of acquaintances."
"Nor in mine either," replied the young man, recovering himself.
"But you would not feel satisfied to have your son address Miss
Clayton?"
"And why not, pray? Henry, I have never met with a young lady whom I
would rather see your wife than Fanny Clayton."
"And I," rejoined the young man with equal warmth, "never met with
any one whom I could truly love until I saw her sweet young face."
"Then never think again of one like Melinda Marygold. You could not
be rationally happy with her."
Five or six months rolled away, during a large portion of which time
the fact that Henry Florence was addressing Fanny Clayton formed a
theme for pretty free comment in various quarters. Most of Henry's
acquaintance heartily approved his choice; but Mrs. Marygold, and a
few like her, all with daughters of the "common" class, were deeply
incensed at the idea of a "common kind of a girl" like Miss Clayton
being forced into genteel society, a consequence that would of
course follow her marriage.
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