“I have become so habituated to sorrow,” sighed Lady Grace
“That you will sink under it at last, my dear, if this man's cruelties be not put an end to. You really must allow me to speak to Lackington.”
“It wouldn't be of the slightest service, I assure you. In the first place, he is so plausible, he'd persuade any one that there was nothing to complain of, that he lived up to his fortune, that his means were actually crippled; and secondly, he'd give such pledges for the future, such promises, that it would be downright rudeness to throw a doubt on their sincerity.”
“Why did you marry him, my dear?” said Lady Lackington, with a little sigh.
“I married him to vex Ridout; we had a quarrel at that fête at Chiswick, you remember, Tollertin's fête. Ridout was poor, and felt his poverty. I don't believe I treated his scruples quite fairly. I know I owned to him that I had no contempt for riches—that I thought Belgrave-square, and the Opera, and Diamonds, and a smart Equipage, all very commendable things: and Jack said, 'Then, there's your man. Twining has twenty thousand a year.' 'But, he has not asked me,' said I, laughing. Ridout turned away without a word. Half an hour later, Mr. Adderley Twining formally proposed for my hand, and was accepted.”
“And Jack Ridout is now the Marquis of Allerton,” said Lady Lackington.
“I know it!” said the other, bitterly.
“With nigh forty thousand a year.”
“I know it!” cried she, again.
“And the handsomest house and the finest park in England.”