"
"I am not a beginner," thought Marguerite, who had been in love
three days; and she began to read:
"_Now of all artes ye most ancient is ye lovely arte of courting.
It is ye earliest form of ye chase. It is older than hawking or
hunting ye wilde bore. It is older than ye flint age or ye stone
aye, being as old as ye bones in ye man his body and in ye woman
her body. It began in ye Garden of Eden and is as old as ye old
devil himself_."
Marguerite laughed: she thought Lady Bluefields delightful.
"_Now ye only purpose in all God His world of ye arte of courting
is to create love where love is not, or to make it grow where it
has begun. But whether ye wish to create love or to blow ye little
coal into ye big blaze, ye principles are ye same; for ye bellows
that will fan nothing into something will easily roast ye spark
into ye roaring fire; and ye grander ye fire, ye grander ye arte_."
Marguerite laughed again. Then she stopped reading and tested the
passage in the light of her experience. A bellows and--nothing to
begin. Then something. Then a spark. Then a name. She returned
to the book with the conclusion that Lady Bluefields was a woman of
experience.
"_This little booke will not contain any but ye first principles:
if is enough for ye stingy price ye pay. But ye woman who buys ye
first principles and fails, must then get ye larger work on ye Last
Principles of Courting, with ye true account of ye mysteries which
set ye principles to going: it is ye infallible guide to ye
irresistible love.
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