The next morning Lord Berwick called on me, to entreat that I would consider my sister's welfare and persuade her to place herself under his protection.
"The annuity I propose giving her," continued his lordship, "of £500, shall be derived from money in the funds."
"And so you really are at last caught, my lord," said I, "fairly caught in love's trap? Now I am rather curious to learn what particular happiness you expect to enjoy with a girl who, though she is my sister, I may say, as you and everybody know it as well as myself, never showed any character but once in her whole life; and that was in her unequivocal dislike of you?"
"I do not mind that," answered his lordship, "and, by giving her whatever she wants, she may perhaps get over her dislike."
"Is it her beauty then which has won your heart?"
"In part," answered Berwick; "but chiefly the opinion I have formed of her truth. I could never live with a woman whom I must watch and suspect. Now, I am disposed to believe implicitly every word Sophia utters."
"And with good reason," I interrupted him, "for I am convinced that Sophia seldom, if ever, tells an untruth; and certainly there is something very candid and fair in her unqualified acknowledgment of dislike towards you, since she is evidently fond of all the good things your money can buy, and I think she particularly likes a good dinner."
"And therefore," Lord Berwick resumed, "as her friend you ought to advise her to come to me."
I told his lordship that I really could not overcome my reluctance to interfere in such matters.
"I want her to decide," said his persevering lordship, "that I may give orders about buying the lease of a house for her in town, and furnishing it."