“Well, well,” said Norval, “go on; try to explain it in your own way.”
“This was the way, my Lord; I wanted her to be my sweetheart.”
OFFERING AMENDS.
“That’s right, my Lord,” said the lady; “and I was tart without the sweet, I admit.”
“Yes, my Lord, a regular Tartar; when I gave her my whole heart, she steeled hers against me.”
“True,” said the prisoner; “your Lordship must know he came with so much brass, that I could only meet him with irony, particularly as I fancied he was after the tin.”
Practical Jaques here broke in once more, saying, “Would it not put the matter all right if she gave you back your heart?”
“Oh, but, my Lord, I gave her my whole heart, and she’s broken it.”
“That need not be a difficulty,” said the lady; “I’ll soon put it together; I’m very good at a patchwork quilt.”