“Bless me! has your lordship a family? I beg you a thousand pardons; but I only saw your lordship’s own equipage last night, and did not know you brought any one with you.”
“My daughter went first, and was safely lodged before I arrived. She did not disturb you, I dare say, as I did; for she sails along like a swan: but I have got the gout in my left claw, and that’s the reason I puff and groan so in taking a journey.”
“Shall I drop in upon Miss Griffin, and see how she is after her journey?” said the pie, advancing.
“I thank you, no. I don’t intend her to be seen while I stay here,—it unsettles her; and I’m afraid of the young beasts running away with her if they once heard how handsome she was: she’s the living picture of me, but she’s monstrous giddy! Not that I should care much if she did go off with a beast of degree, were I not obliged to pay her portion, which is prodigious; and I don’t like parting with money, ma’am, when I’ve once got it. Ho, ho, ho!”
“You are too witty, my lord. But if you refused your consent?” said the pie, anxious to know the whole family history of so grand a seigneur.
“I should have to pay the dowry all the same. It was left her by her uncle the dragon. But don’t let this go any further.”
“Your lordship may depend on my secrecy. I wish your lordship a very good morning.”
Away flew the pie, and she did not stop till she got to the cat’s house. The cat and the fox were at breakfast, and the fox had his paw on his heart. “Beautiful scene!” cried the pie; the cat coloured, and bade the pie take a seat.
Then off went the pie’s tongue, glib, glib, glib, chatter, chatter, chatter. She related to them the whole story of the griffin and his daughter, and a great deal more besides, that the griffin had never told her.
The cat listened attentively. Another young heiress in the neighbourhood might be a formidable rival. “But is this griffiness handsome?” said she.