Jip barked madly all the
time. My eloquence increased, and I said if she would like me to die for
her, she had but to say the word, and I was ready. I had loved her to
distraction every minute, day and night, since I first set eyes upon
her. I loved her at that minute to distraction. I should always love
her, every minute, to distraction. Lovers had loved before, and lovers
would love again; but no lover had ever loved, might, could, would, or
should ever love, as I loved Dora. The more I raved, the more Jip
barked. Each of us in his own way got more mad every moment.
Well, well! Dora and I were sitting on the sofa by and by quiet enough,
and Jip was lying in her lap winking peacefully at me. It was off my
mind. I was in a state of perfect rapture. Dora and I were engaged.
Being poor, I felt it necessary the next time I went to my darling to
expatiate on that unfortunate drawback. I soon carried desolation into
the bosom of our joys--not that I meant to do it, but that I was so full
of the subject--by asking Dora without the smallest preparation, if she
could love a beggar.
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