“I’m not surprised that fine aunt of yours couldn’t nabble a husband for you!” he said, nettled. “You’ve a damned nasty tongue in your head! I can tell you this, a Long Meg like you can’t afford to put up the backs of people as you do!”
“That is the second thing you have been so obliging as to tell me, and no more interesting to me than the first. Have you anything more to say?”
“Yes, I have! I wish you will accord Nat a little common civility! It’s no very pleasant thing for me to have my cousin behaving like a shrew! One would have thought you would have been pleased with the very flattering distinction he accords you! I don’t know what you think is to become of you when the old man slips his wind! You needn’t look to me to provide for you, for if he has more to leave than the title and an estate mortgaged to the hilt—”
“Are you having the effrontery to suggest that I—I, Nell Stornaway!—should encourage the advances of Coate?” she demanded. “Perhaps you think he would make a suitable match for me?”
“Oh, well!” he muttered, his eyes shifting from hers. “You might do worse, and you’re not likely to do better. I don’t say—I never spoke of marriage, after all! All I care for is that you should make his visit agreeable. You don’t give a fig for the awkwardness of my position! If you open your mouth at the dinner-table, ten to one it is only to say something cutting to Nat—”
“Yes, indeed! You would fancy that he must be sensible by now, would you not, that his presence at Kellands is only less distasteful to me than the extremely improper style of his advances? But, no!”
“A woman of address would know how to turn it off without flying into a miff!”
“Yes, and some women, no doubt, are more fortunate than I in those male relatives whose duty it might be thought to guard them from such unwanted attentions!”
He coloured, and shot her a resentful glance. “What a piece of work you make about a trifle! I suppose you expect Nat to toad-eat you, though how you should when you wear a gown with a darn in it—the shabbiest thing! puts me to the blush, I can tell you!—and serve such plain dinners—only one course, and that ill-dressed! And then, to crown all, go off afterwards, and never come into the drawing-room, as you should! No tea-tray brought in: nothing as it should be!—’pon my soul, I don’t know why you should look to be treated with any extraordinary civility!”
“Good gracious, does Mr. Coate desire tea in the evening?” she exclaimed. “I thought it was the brandy he wanted! I will not fail to tell Huby that between us we have quite mistaken the matter; and a tray shall be brought to you. My presence, however, you must dispense with: I sit every evening with my grandfather.”