“No!-why then, how in the world can you contrive to pass your time?”
“In a manner which your Lordship will think very extraordinary,” cried Mrs. Selwyn, “for the young lady reads.”
“Ha, ha, ha! Egad, my Lord,” cried the facetious companion, “you are got into bad hands.”
“You had better, Ma’am,” answered he, “attack Jack Coverley here, for you will make nothing of me.”
“Of you, my Lord,” cried she, “Heaven forbid I should ever entertain so idle an expectation! I only talk, like a silly woman, for the sake of talking; but I have by no means so low an opinion of your Lordship, as to suppose you vulnerable to censure.”
“Do, pray, Ma’am,” cried he, “turn to Jack Coverley; he’s the very man for you;-he’d be a wit himself if he was not too modest.”
“Prithee, my Lord, be quiet,” returned the other; “if the lady is contented to bestow all her favours upon you, why should you make such a point of my going snacks?”
“Don’t be apprehensive, gentlemen,” said Mrs. Selwyn, drily, “I am not romantic;-I have not the least design of doing good to either of you.”
“Have not you been ill since I saw you?” said his Lordship, again addressing himself to me.
“Yes, my Lord.”