“You have called me Robert very prettily, and you will find, if you persevere, that it will rise quite easily to your lips in a very short space of time.”
“Well, if it will please you, I will try to say it,” said Arabella. She sat up suddenly, as a thought occurred to her, and said in her impulsive way: “Oh, Mr. Beau—I mean, Leaky Peg, in that horrid house where I went to see poor Bertram, and she was so very kind to him! Do you think—?”
“No, Arabella,” said Mr. Beaumaris firmly. “I do not!”
She was disappointed, but docile. “No?” she said.
“No,” said Mr. Beaumaris, drawing her back into his arm.
“I thought we might have taken her away from that dreadful place,” suggested Arabella, smoothing his coat-lapel with a coaxing hand.
“I am quite sure you did, my love, but while I am prepared to receive into my household climbing-boys and stray curs, I must draw the line at a lady rejoicing in the name of Leaky Peg.”
“You don’t think she might learn to become a housemaid, or something of that sort? You know—”
“I only know two things,” interrupted Mr. Beaumaris. “The first is that she is not going to make the attempt in any house of mine; and the second, and by far the more important, is that I adore you, Arabella!”
Arabella was so much pleased by this disclosure that she lost interest in Leaky Peg, and confined herself to the far more agreeable task of convincing Mr. Beaumaris that his very obliging sentiments were entirely reciprocated.