One morning, when he was still in bed, she came
into his room to ask him for a pin; she was wearing a dressing-jacket
and pretended to be very shy.
He took a dislike to her, but nevertheless she was always in his mind.
In the meantime the mother had one conversation after another with her
son, and aunt and sisters never ceased hinting at the anticipated
wedding.
Life was made a burden to him. He saw no way of escape from the net in
which he had been caught. Louisa was no longer his sister and friend,
though he did not like her any the better for it; his constant dwelling
on the thought of marrying her had had the result of making him realise
that she was a woman, an unsympathetic woman, it was true, but still a
woman. His marriage would mean a change in his position, and, perhaps,
delivery from bondage. There were no other girls in the neighbourhood,
and, after all, she was probably as good as any other young woman.
And so he went one day to his mother and told her that he had made up
his mind. He would marry Louisa on condition that he should have an
establishment of his own in one of the wings of the house, and his own
table. He also insisted that his mother should propose for him, for he
could not bring himself to do it.
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