“I do,” said he; “but he snaps his fingers at me and common sense and the world. I really think there is only one way to get rid of him, and with him of every annoyance.”
“Ah! that would be nice.”
“Delicious! I had the honor, madam, of laying certain proposals at your feet.”
“Oh! yes—your letter, Sir Charles. I have only just had time to run my eye down it. Let us examine it together.”
She took out the letter with a wonderful appearance of interest, and the diplomat allowed himself to fall into the absurd position to which she invited him. They put their two heads together over the letter.
“'A coach, a country-house, pin-money'—and I'm so tired of houses and coaches and pins. Oh! yes, here's something; what is this you offer me, up in this corner?”
Sir Charles inspected the place carefully, and announced that it was “his heart.”
“And he can't even write it!” said she. “That word is 'earth.' Ah! well, you know best. There is your letter, Sir Charles.”
She courtesied, returned him the letter, and resumed her study of Lothario.
“Favor me with your answer, madam,” said her suitor.