“Oh! that won't do,” said Coleman; “no—'These tender griefs' (that's the term, I think) 'are some of the effects, goods and chattels'—psha! I was thinking of drawing a will—'the effects produced upon me by——'”
“'The wonderful way in which you stuck to your saddle when the mare bolted with you,'” rejoined Lawless enthusiastically; “what, won't that do either?”
“No, be quiet, I've got it all beautifully now, if you don't interrupt me: 'Your many perfections of mind and person—perfections which have led me to centre my ideas of happiness solely in the fond hope of one day calling you my own'.”
“That's very pretty indeed,” said Lawless; “go on.”
“'Should I be fortunate enough,'” continued Coleman '“to succeed in winning your affection, it will be the study of my future life to prevent your every wish—'”
“Eh! what do you mean? not let her have her own way? Oh! that will never pay; why, the little I know of women, I'm sure that, if you want to come over them, you must flatter 'em up with the idea that you mean to give 'em their heads on all occasions—let 'em do just what they like. Tell a woman she should not go up the chimney, it's my belief you'd see her nose peep out of the top before ten minutes were over. Oh! that'll never do!”
“Nonsense,” interrupted Freddy; “'prevent' means to forestall in that sense; however, I'll put it 'forestall,' if you like it better.”
“I think it will be safest,” replied Lawless, shaking his head solemnly.
“'In everything your will shall be law,'” continued Coleman, writing.
“Oh! I say, that's coming it rather strong, though,” interposed Lawless, “query about that?”