“Ay, ay,” croaked out M'Cormick. “Marry in haste—”
“Or repent that you did n't. That 's the true reading of the adage.”
“The Major would rather apply leisure to the marriage, and make the repentance come—”
“As soon as possible afterwards,” said Miss Dinah, tartly.
“Faix, I 'll do better still; I won't provoke the repentance at all.”
“Oh, Major, is it thus you treat me?” said Polly, affecting to wipe her eyes. “Are my hopes to be dashed thus cruelly?”
But the doctor, who knew how savagely M'Cormick could resent even the most harmless jesting, quickly interposed, with a question whether Polly had thought of ordering luncheon.
It is but fair to Dr. Dill to record the bland but careless way he ordered some entertainment for his visitors. He did it like the lord of a well-appointed household, who, when he said “serve,” they served. It was in the easy confidence of one whose knowledge told him that the train was laid, and only waited for the match to explode it.
“May I have the honor, dear lady?” said he, offering his arm to Miss Barrington.
Now, Miss Dinah had just observed that she had various small matters to transact in the village, and was about to issue forth for their performance; but such is the force of a speciality, that she could not tear herself away without a peep into the dining-room, and a glance, at least, at arrangements that appeared so magically conjured up. Nor was Dill insensible to the astonishment expressed in her face as her eyes ranged over the table.