painting in oil

painting in oil
have fancied I hardly know what. St. John is a strange being-'
She paused- I did not speak: soon she resumed-
'That brother of mine cherishes peculiar views of some sort
respecting you, I am sure: he has long distinguished you by a notice
and interest he never showed to any one else- to what end? I wish he
loved you- does he, Jane?'
I put her cool hand to my hot forehead; 'No, Die, not one whit.'
'Then why does he follow you so with his eyes, and get you so
painting in oil
frequently alone with him, and keep you so continually at his side?
Mary and I had both concluded he wished you to marry him.'
'He does- he has asked me to be his wife.'
Diana clapped her hands. 'That is just what we hoped and thought!
And you will marry him, Jane, won't you? And then he will stay in
England.'
'Far from that, Diana; his sole idea in proposing to me is to
procure a fitting fellow-labourer in his Indian toils.'
'What! He wishes you to go to India?'
'Yes.'
'Madness!' she exclaimed. 'You would not live three months there, I painting in oil