‘Mine! if you please, duke,’ said Mr. Beamish.
‘A thousand pardons! I leave it to you, cousin. I could not be in safer hands. I am heartily bounders to you. Chloe, then. By the way, she has a decent respect for age?’
‘She is reverentially inclined.’
‘Not that. She is, I would ask, no wanton prattler of the charms and advantages of youth?’
‘She has a young adorer that I have dubbed Alonzo, whom she scarce notices.’
‘Nothing could be better. Alonzo: h’m! A faithful swain?’
‘Life is his tree, upon which unceasingly he carves his mistress’s initials.’
‘She should not be too cruel. I recollect myself formerly: I was... Young men will, when long slighted, transfer their affections, and be warmer to the second flame than to the first. I put you on your guard. He follows her much? These lovers’ paintings and puffings in the neighbourhood of the most innocent of women are contagious.’
‘Her Grace will be running home all the sooner.’
‘Or off!—may she forgive me! I am like a King John’s Jew, forced to lend his treasure without security. What a world is ours! Nothing, Beamish, nothing desirable will you have which is not coveted! Catch a prize, and you will find you are at war with your species. You have to be on the defensive from that moment. There is no such thing as peaceable procession on earth. Let it be a beautiful young woman!—Ah!’