“I depend on you to teach me to be less odious. I shall be very happy to learn of you.”
Elinor gathered her forces together. “Lord Carlyon!” she began.
He interrupted. “Do you know, it has of late become an ambition of mine to hear my name on your lips instead of my title?”
“Certainly not!” said Elinor with resolution.
He was silent.
“And when I think of the hateful way you have of calling me Mrs. Cheviot, when you know I dislike it,” added the widow, quite ruining her effect, “I wonder that you should ask it of me!”
“Very well. When we meet in public, I will call you cousin, as Nicky does. But here, in the privacy of my carriage, I need not scruple to say, Elinor, I have fallen very deep in love with you, and I beg that you will honor me with your hand in marriage.”
“You are talking a great deal of nonsense and you will thank me one day for not attending to you!” said Elinor in a scolding tone.
“Now you are being uncivil,” he said imperturbably. “I shall have to teach you how to reply to a declaration with more propriety, my little love.”
She trembled. “Oh, no! Pray—Oh, will you only think for one moment! If you were to marry me, everyone would say you had done it to obtain possession of Highnoons!