“That's the light to take it in,” exclaimed Coleman, coming forward; “if one woman says 'No,' there are a hundred others will say 'Yes'; and, after all, it's an open question whether a man's not better off without 'em.”
“Eh! Freddy boy, our fine letter's been no go—turned out a regular sell, you see, eh?”
“Well, that only proves the young lady's want of taste,” replied Coleman; “but we had not exactly a fair start. You have more to bear about it yet; the article you wished for was gone already—the damsel had not a heart to bestow. Tell him how it was, Frank.”
Thus urged, I gave a hurried outline of the affair as it really stood, dwelling much on the fact that Oaklands and Fanny had become attached in bygone years, long ere she had ever seen Lawless—which I hoped might afford some slight consolation to his wounded self-love. As I concluded, he exclaimed: “So Fanny's going to marry Harry Oak-lands—that's the long and short of it all. Well, I'm uncommonly glad to hear it—almost as glad as if I was going to marry her myself; there is not a better fellow in the world than Harry, though he has not regarded me with the most friendly looks of late. I was beginning not to like it, I can tell you, and meant to ask him why he did it; but I understand it all now. What a bore I must have been to them both! I declare I'm quite sorry; why, I would not have done it for any money, if I'd been up to the move sooner. Oh! I must tell Harry.”
“You certainly are the most good-natured fellow breathing, Lawless,” said I.
“Eh! yes, take me in the right way, I am quiet enough, a child may guide me with a snaffle; but stick a sharp bit in my mouth, and tickle my sides with the rowels, and I rear up before, and lash out behind, so that it would puzzle half the rough-riders in the country to back me. I always mean to go ahead straight enough if I can see my way clearly before me, but it's awkward driving when one gets among women, with their feelings, and sympathies, and all that style of article. I'm not used to it, you see, so no wonder if I run foul of their sensibilites and sentimentalities, and capsize a few of them. I've got pretty well knocked over myself though this time. Misfortunes never come alone too, they say; and I've just had a letter from Leatherley to tell me Spiteful got loose when the groom was leading him out to exercise, and trying to leap a fence staked himself so severely that they were obliged to have him shot. I refused eighty guineas for him from Dunham of the Guards only a month ago; I shall have my new tandem cart home, and no horses to run in it.”
“How well those chestnuts would look tandem!” observed Coleman carelessly; “I wonder whether Harry would sell them?”
“By Jove! I shouldn't like to ask him,” exclaimed Lawless quickly; “it is too much to expect of any man.”
“Oh! as to that,” replied Coleman, “I dare say I could contrive to find it out, without exactly asking him to sell them.”
“My dear fellow, if you would, I should be so much obliged to you,” replied Lawless eagerly; “if I could but get those horses to start the new cart with, I should be as happy as a king—that is,” he continued, checking himself, “I might become so; time, don't you see, resignation, and all that sort of thing—heigh ho!—By the way, how far is it from dinner? for jumping over those confounded chairs has made me uncommonly peckish, I can tell you.”