"The cousins at Quallingham may go to the devil!" said Lydgate, with
scorn. "It was like their impudence if they said anything of the sort
to you."
"Still," said Rosamond, "I do not think it is a nice profession,
dear." We know that she had much quiet perseverance in her opinion.
"It is the grandest profession in the world, Rosamond," said Lydgate,
gravely. "And to say that you love me without loving the medical man
in me, is the same sort of thing as to say that you like eating a peach
but don't like its flavor. Don't say that again, dear, it pains me."
"Very well, Doctor Grave-face," said Rosy, dimpling, "I will declare in
future that I dote on skeletons, and body-snatchers, and bits of things
in phials, and quarrels with everybody, that end in your dying
miserably."
"No, no, not so bad as that," said Lydgate, giving up remonstrance and
petting her resignedly.