He stared at the lady for some moments. He had not yet mastered Mrs. Thrale’s conversational methods.
“What did I say?” he inquired after a pause. “Did not I suggest that you were discussing her latest freak? Lord! ’tis a fine freak! Her father has urged her to it. I shouldn’t wonder if you have heard that I was depressed by the news! Now, tell the truth, Mrs. Cholmondeley, did not you hear it said that I was in despair?”
“Why, what on earth have you got to say to the matter, Captain Mathews?” cried Mrs. Cholmondeley, with a pretty affectation of amazement. She was a capital actress, though, of course, inferior to her sister, Mrs. Margaret Woffington.
Captain Mathews looked more than a trifle upset by the lady’s suggestion. His laugh was hollow.
“Of course, nothing; ’tis nothing to me—nothing i’ the world, I assure you,” he said. “But you know how malicious are our good friends in Bath; you know how ready they are to attribute an indiscretion to—— Ah, you take me, Mrs. Crewe? You are a woman of the world.”
“Oh, sir, you are a flatterer, I vow,” said Mrs. Crewe. “Ah, yes, Captain Mathews, I am ready to admit that all our friends are malicious, but I give you my word that their malice never went the length of hinting anything so preposterous as that you could have expectations of finding favour in the eyes of Miss Linley.”
“Preposterous? By the Lord, madam, were you a man who made use of such a word—— But of course—— Oh yes, ’twas a preposterous notion; and yet, madam, there are some in this town who do not think the notion of a man of family and property aspiring to the hand of a beggarly music mistress so preposterous.”
Captain Mathews drew himself up, and swung his cane in long sweeps from side to side, assuming a self-satisfied smile, as though he had made a crushing reply to the lady’s rather broad satire.
“True, sir,” said Mrs. Crewe; “Mr. Walter Long is a man of family and a man of property; that is possibly why no one has alluded to his engagement with Miss Linley as preposterous.”