"Ah, madam," cried he reproachfully, "is't not enough to keep me for ever in Hades, must you needs add to my torture by showing me another in Paradise? But, my little Verney," he went on, turning good-naturedly to his young rival, "it is but fair to warn you that you will be wise to pause before getting yourself measured for your halo: the Paradise of this lady's favour is (alack, do I not know it?) of most precarious tenure."
"This lady, sir," said Lord Verney, with rigid lips, "has promised to be my wife."
It was fortunate that Mr. Stafford had a prop: under the shock he staggered. Man of the world as he was, the most guileless astonishment was stamped on his countenance.
Oh, how demure looked Mistress Kitty!
Spicer, a trifle yellow, became effusive in congratulations which were but coldly received by his patron.
"Ah, Kitty," whispered Mr. Stafford in Mistress Bellairs' shell-like ear, "do you like them so tender-green? Why, my dear, the lad's chin is as smooth as your own. What pleasantry is this?"
Kitty scraped her little foot and hung her head. Mistress Kitty coy! And yon poor innocent with his air of proprietorship—'twas a most humorous spectacle!
"I'm sure, Verney," cried Mr. Stafford, "I wish you joy, ha, ha! with all my heart! And you madam, he, he!—forgive me, friends—the thought of Sir Jasper's duel is still too much for me. Ha, ha! Support me, Spicer."
"She'll marry him, she'll marry him," cried Spicer with bilious vindictiveness, looking over his shoulder at the couple, as they moved away.
"Marry him!—never she!" cried Stafford. "Kitty's no fool. Why, man, the little demon wouldn't have me! She loves her liberty and her pleasures too well. Did you not see? She could not look up for fear of showing the devilment in her eye. Cheerily, cheerily, my gallant Captain!" cried the spark, and struck the reedy shoulders that had buttressed him, in contemptuous good-natured valediction. "You need not yet cast about for a new greenhorn to subsist upon."