“Sir,” said Mr. Lovel, “with any common person I should not deliberate an instant; but really with a fellow who has done nothing but fight all his life, ‘pon honour, Sir, I can’t think of it!”
“Lovel,” said Lord Merton, in the same voice, “you must call him to account.”
“Every man,” said he, pettishly, “is the best judge of his own affairs; and I don’t ask the honour of any person’s advice.”
“Egad, Lovel,” said Mr. Coverley, “you’re in for it!-you can’t possibly be off!”
“Sir,” cried he, very impatiently, “upon any proper occasion I should be as ready to show my courage as any body; but as to fighting for such a trifle as this-I protest I should blush to think of it!”
“A trifle!” cried Mrs. Selwyn, “good Heaven! and have you made this astonishing riot about a trifle?”
“Ma’am,” answered the poor wretch, in great confusion, “I did not know at first but that my cheek might have been bit; but as ’tis no worse, why, it does not a great deal signify. Mrs. Beaumont, I have the honour to wish you a good evening; I’m sure my carriage must be waiting.” And then, very abruptly, he left the room.
What a commotion has this mischief-loving Captain raised! Were I to remain here long, even the society of my dear Maria could scarce compensate for the disturbances which he excites.
When he returned, and heard of the quiet exit of Mr. Lovel, his triumph was intolerable. “I think, I think,” he cried, “I have peppered him well! I’ll warrant he won’t give an hour tomorrow morning to settling what he shall put on; why, his coat,” turning to me, “would be a most excellent match for old Madame Furbelow’s best Lyons silk! ‘Fore George, I’d desire no better sport than to have that there old cat here to go her snacks!”
All the company the, Lord Orville, Miss Mirvan, and myself excepted, played at cards; and we -oh, how much better did we pass our time!