“‘Never lie by Johnson’s side
With an unquiet soul,’
for that he would get me a place in the Stamps! The silly girl said she would have it in black and white,—as if Mr. Gower would write to her!
“And now, sir,” continued Mr. Peacock, with a simpler gravity, “you are at liberty, of course, to say what you please to my lady; but I hope you’ll not try to take the bread out of my mouth because I wear a livery and am fool enough to be in love with a waiting-woman,—I, sir, who could have married ladies who have played the first parts in life—on the metropolitan stage.”
I had nothing to say to these representations, they seemed plausible; and though at first I had suspected that the man had only resorted to the buffoonery of his quotations in order to gain time for invention or to divert my notice from any flaw in his narrative, yet at the close, as the narrative seemed probable, so I was willing to believe the buffoonery was merely characteristic. I contented myself, therefore, with asking, “Where do you come from now?”
“From Mr. Trevanion, in the country, with letters to Lady Ellinor.”
“Oh! and so the young woman knew you were coming to town?”
“Yes, sir; Mr. Trevanion told me, some days ago, the day I should have to start.”
“And what do you and the young woman propose doing to-morrow if there is no change of plan?”
Here I certainly thought there was a slight, scarce perceptible, alteration in Mr. Peacock’s countenance; but he answered readily, “To-morrow, a little assignation, if we can both get out,—
“‘Woo me, now I am in a holiday humor,
And like enough to consent’