“Ah, you see, I was hurried off to that supper, confound it! and, as you remarked, I did not get up in time for the Pump Room gossip,” said he glibly. “Ah, I should have gone to the Pump Room, if only for the sake of studying the effect of this disastrous news upon the beaux! ’Twill be a blow to some of our friends—to some; but we need not travel beyond the limits of the Sheridan family to become acquainted with the effects of that blow.” He pointed a finger toward his brother Charles, who indeed was looking very glum over his mutton. “Oh, my dear brother, you have my profound sympathy in your affliction. But, prithee, be cheered, my Charles; do not let those doleful dumps get hold of you at this time.
‘Shall I, wasting with despair,
Sigh because a woman’s fair?’
Surely not, sir. This is not our way, in these days—these unromantic days.
‘If she be not fair to me
What care I how fair she be?
With a hey, nonny, nonny!’”
“Do not tease him, Dick,” said Alicia. “Poor Charlie!”
“Poor Charlie!” cried Dick. “Nay, I never meant to go so far as to call him ‘Poor Charlie!’ You have a strange notion of what constitutes sympathy, my dear, if you fancy that our brother’s wound is softened by his being called ‘Poor Charlie!’ The cruel shepherdess did not send you any softening message, Strephon?”
“She sent me no message,” said Charles.
“Then she was less unkind than she might have been,” said Dick. “The woman who sends a kind message to the lover whom she has discarded is as cruel as the Red Indian would be were he to scalp his victim and then offer him as a solace a box of Canada Balsam for the healing of the wound. Oh no, dear Charles, Miss Linley is not all unkind.”
“Do you know, Dick, that once or twice I received the impression that ’twas you yourself, and not Charles, that Betsy favoured?” said Elizabeth.
“What! I—I? Oh, my dear, you flatter me at the expense of my elder brother,” laughed Dick. “Moreover, you cast an aspersion on the taste, the discrimination, and the prudence of the young lady. Dear sisters, take the advice of your brother, who knows this world and its weaknesses, and when it comes to your turn to choose husbands, marry nice elderly gentlemen with large fortunes, as your friend Miss Linley is doing. Marriage should be regarded simply as an unavoidable preliminary to a brilliant widowhood. And let me assure you, Eliza, your widowhood will not be long averted if you provide your husband with mutton as tough as that which you set before your brothers four days out of the seven.”