“But Mama, it was not I who would come here!” expostulated Mr Griffin.
Sir Richard again rang the bell, and this time desired that a chambermaid should be sent to him. Mrs Griffin was presently consigned to the care of an abigail, and left the room majestically, commanding hot water to wash with, tea, and a decent bedchamber.
Her son heaved a sigh of relief. “I must beg pardon, Sir Richard! You must allow me to beg your pardon!”
“Not at all,” said Sir Richard.
“Yes, yes, I insist! Such an unfortunate misunderstanding! An explanation is due to you! A slip of the tongue, you know, but my mother is labouring under strong emotion, and does not quite heed what she says. You noticed it: indeed, no one could wonder at your surprise! The unhappy truth, sir, is that my cousin is not a boy, but—in a word, sir—a female!”
“This explanation, Mr Griffin, is quite unnecessary, believe me.”
“Sir,” said Mr Griffin earnestly, “as a Man of the World, I should value your opinion! Concealment is useless: the truth must be discovered in the end. What, sir, would you think of a member of the Weaker Sex who assumed the disguise of a man, and left the home of her natural protector by way of the window?”
“I should assume,” replied Sir Richard, “that she had strong reasons for acting with such resolution.”
“She did not wish to marry me,” said Mr Griffin gloomily.
“Oh!” said Sir Richard.