“You are too sagacious not to know everything; you know my heart is set on marrying my niece to a man of ancient family.”
“With all my heart. You have only to use your influence with her. If she consents, I will not oppose.”
“You cruel little lady, you know it is not enough to withdraw opposition; I can't succeed without your kind aid and support.”
“Now, Mr. Fountain, I am a great coward, but, really, I could almost venture to scold you a little. Is not a poor little woman to be allowed to set her heart on things as well as a poor old gentleman who does not look fifty? You know my poor little heart is bent on her marrying into our own set, yet you can ask me to influence her the other way—me, who have never once said a word to her for my own favorites! No; the fairest, kindest, and best way is to leave her to select her own happiness.”
“A fine thing it would be if young people were left to marry who they like,” retorted Fountain. “My dear lady, I would never have asked your aid so long as there was the least chance of her marrying Mr. Hardie; but, now that she has of her own accord declined him—”
“What is that? declined Mr. Hardie? when did he ever propose for her?”
“You misunderstand me. She came to me and told me she would never marry him.”
“When was that? I don't believe it.”
“It was in the ball-room.”
Mrs. Bazalgette reflected; then she turned very red. “Well, sir,” said she, “don't build too much on that; for four months ago she made me a solemn promise she would never marry any lover you should find her, and she repeated that promise in your very house.”