I am ashamed of my negligence, I am sorry for my warmth, and entreat your ladyship to pardon a fault which I hope never to repeat.
The reparation, sir, said Arabella smiling, over-balances the offence, and by thus daring to own you have been in the wrong, you have raised in me a much higher esteem for you.
Yet I will not pardon you, added she, without enjoining you a penance for the fault you own you have committed; and this penance shall be to prove—
First, that these histories you condemn are fictions.
Next, that they are absurd.
And lastly, that they are criminal.
The doctor was pleased to find a reconciliation offered upon so very easy terms, with a person whom he beheld at once with reverence and affection, and could not offend without extreme regret.
He therefore answered with a very cheerful composure:
To prove those narratives to be fictions, madam, is only difficult, because the position is almost too evident for proof.
Your ladyship knows, I suppose, to what authors these writings are ascribed?