“Why not, Sir?”
“Because I should be afraid of being poisoned for being so handsome.”
“Who is severe upon the ladies now?” said I.
“Why, really, Ma’am, it was a slip of the tongue; I did not intend to say such a thing; but one can’t always be on one’s guard.”
Soon after, the conversation turning upon public places, young Branghton asked if I had ever been to George’s at Hampstead?
“Indeed, I never heard the place mentioned.”
“Didn’t you, Miss,” cried he eagerly; “why, then you’ve a deal of fun to come, I’ll promise you; and, I tell you what, I’ll treat you there some Sunday, soon. So now, Bid and Poll, be sure you don’t tell Miss about the chairs, and all that, for I’ve a mind to surprise her; and if I pay, I think I’ve a right to have it my own way.”
“George’s at Hampstead!” repeated Mr. Smith contemptuously; “how came you to think the young lady would like to go to such a low place as that! But, pray, Ma’am, have you ever been to Don Saltero’s at Chelsea?”
“No, Sir.”
“No!-nay, then I must insist on having the pleasure of conducting you there before long. I assure you, Ma’am, many genteel people go, or else, I give you my word, I should not recommend it.”