“What’s the use of snivelling, And worrying and drivelling? Sure you might give over now, And get another lover.” Meanwhile, had I wanted solace, it lay close at hand. Theresa was as kind to me as she had been, on our first meeting, rude. I rode with her, sometimes twice a day, and got to like the exercise so well, that I looked forward to it with pleasure. I don’t say the pleasure wasn’t immensely increased by my companion. She talked charmingly, with a mixture of vivacity and good sense that made her conversation refreshing to listen to. She _was_ well-read, as her father had affirmed, but displayed her stores with so much tact and modesty, that I never remember hearing her make a learned…
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