“I bid you good-evening, Sir Percy de Bohun, and, having had either the good, or the ill fortune to unintentionally overhear your remarks concerning Lady Peggy Burgoyne, I feel it my duty and pleasure alike to defend her from the unjust and unworthy attack which you, Sir, have just been pleased to make.”
“Sir Robin McTart!” exclaims Percy, with a start and in a prodigious anger. “I deny your charges, Sir, and would remind you that eaves-droppers are ever the cumberers of dangerous ground.”
“Sir!” responds Lady Peggy, her temper rising the more at the sense of the injustice and falseness of her whole tenure. “You coupled just now the name of a lady with that of Sir Robin McTart. I demand how you dare to assume such a responsibility, Sir, until at least either the lady in question, or I, gives you our confidence, or our leave.”
“‘Our’ forsooth! ‘Our!’” comes fiercely from between Sir Percy’s clenched teeth, while his hand flies to his sword-hilt.
“Why the devil, Sir—an you’ve been so lucky as win the lady for your bride—make off with her i’ the dark, shut her up in some unfindable hole? cheat her parents, and go strutting like some vain peacock up and down other ladies’ drawing-rooms? Be a man, Sir, and publish your triumph broadcast, nor let the town presently go gossiping and countryside wagging with the scandal of an elopement! Zounds! Sir Robin McTart, that!” flipping a stray card from the table almost in Her Ladyship’s face, “for your gallantry and your honor!”
“What do you mean, Sir?” cries Peggy, struck with horror all a-heap, and with terror as well, yet keeping up a brave show with her drawn rapier and sparkling eyes.
“Whatever you damned please, Sir,” returns Percy, now white-heat too, and most reckless of time or place.
“I’ve too much regard for Lady Peggy, Sir, not to postpone the climax of this matter until our next meeting, let it be when you see fit!” cries Peg with woman’s wit and wisdom too.
“’Slife, Sir, I ask you as one gentleman to another, nay, I implore it of you,” cries Sir Percy, rent betwixt choler, love and apprehension, “most humbly, is Lady Peggy your wife?”
Her Ladyship was now like to laugh, so near akin are mirth and sorrow, but she replied very loftily: