“It is ten to one, father,” said young Branghton, “if he came fairly by it.”
“Very likely not,” answered he; “but that will make no great difference, for I shall be able to prove my right to it all one.”
What principles! I could hardly stay in the room.
“I’m determined,” said the son, “I’ll take some opportunity to affront him soon, now I know how poor he is, because of the airs he gave himself when he first came.”
“And pray how was that, child?” said Madame Duval.
“Why, you never knew such a fuss in your life as he made, because one day at dinner I only happened to say, that I supposed he had never got such a good meal in his life before he came to England: there, he fell in such a passion as you can’t think: but for my part, I took no notice of it: for to be sure, thinks I, he must needs be a gentleman, or he’d never go to be so angry about it. However, he won’t put his tricks upon me again in a hurry.”
“Well,” said Miss Polly, “he’s grown quite another creature to what he was, and he doesn’t run away from us, nor hide himself, nor any thing; and he’s as civil as can be, and he’s always in the shop, and he saunters about the stairs, and he looks at every body as comes in.”
“Why, you may see what he’s after plain enough,” said Mr. Branghton; “he wants to see Miss again.”
“Ha, ha, ha! Lord, how I should laugh,” said the son, “if he should have fell in love with Miss!”
“I’m sure,” said Miss Branghton, “Miss is welcome; but, for my part, I should be quite ashamed of such a beggarly conquest.”