“Needless, my dear sir, quite needless; ’tis in the hearts of the members. And now, my dear friend, for you are my friend,” said Candituft, with his every-day emotion, “I have a delicate business to open to you. An affair affecting the happiness of”—
“Go on,” said Jericho, quite prepared for the ordeal.
“But first let me not forget my friend,” said Candituft. “Hodmadod is, we know, a fool.”
Jericho, nursing his knee, replied, “I do not think the Parliament assembled could have the face to deny it.”
“Nevertheless, a very good creature, and, I dare say, will make a good husband. Yes, he’ll drive well in the wedding-ring.”
“Let us hope so,” replied Jericho, prepared for the best or the worst.
“But he’s bashful as—as—’pon my life, I’m at a loss for a simile. And as he and I are old friends, and as he knew that I should see you—in fact, he’s in the house this moment; came along with me—He desired me to inform you that Miss Agatha had consented to fix the—the—what d’ye call it—the happy day.”
“Wish them joy,” said Jericho. “My friend the Duke shall give her away.”
“As to the young lady’s dowry,” and Candituft hesitated.
“I can’t give a farthing. Can’t afford it, my dear Candituft,” and the Man-Tamer laughed at the declaration as at an intended jest. “Can’t afford it. Besides, think of the girl’s beauty, talents, temper!”