Sir Harry cleared up at once--May I hope, madam--And offered to take her
hand.
She withdrew it with an air. O Dr. Bartlett, I must have been thought an
unpolite husband, had she been my wife!
I took her hand. Excuse this freedom, Sir Harry--For Heaven's sake,
madam, (whispering,) do what I know you will do, with a grace--Shall
there be a misunderstanding, and the husband court a refused hand?--I
then forced her half-unwilling hand into his, with an air that I intended
should have both freedom and respect in it.
What a man have we got here, Sir Harry? This cannot be the modest man,
that you have praised to me--I thought a good man must of necessity be
bashful, if not sheepish: and here your visitor is the boldest man in
England.
The righteous, Lady Beauchamp, said Sir Harry, with an aspect but
half-conceding, is bold as a lion.
And must I be compelled thus, and by such a man, to forgive you, Sir
Harry?--Indeed you were very unkind.
And you, Lady Beauchamp, were very cruel.