"Certainly not, sir; nor to my dear Mrs. Littlepage, nor to Martha—though I confess that I cannot see what interest Mr. Hugh can have in the subject. Here it is; take it and read it when you please."
My uncle was pleased to read it on the spot. As he proceeded a frown collected on his brow, and he bit his lip like one provoked as well as vexed. Then he laughed, and threw the letter on the table, where no one presumed to molest it. As Henrietta Coldbrooke was blushing all this time, though she laughed and seemed provoked, our curiosity was so great and manifest that my grandmother felt an inclination to interfere.
"May not that letter be read aloud, for the benefit of all?" she asked.
"There can be no particular reason for concealing it," answered uncle Ro, spitefully. "The more it is known, the more the fellow will be laughed at, as he deserves to be."
"Will that be right, uncle Ro?" exclaimed Miss Coldbrooke, hastily. "Will it be treating a gentleman as he——"
"Pshaw!—it will not be treating a gentleman at all. The fellow is, at this moment, a prisoner for attempting to set an inhabited house on fire, in the middle of the night."
Henrietta said no more; and my grandmother took the letter, and read it for the common benefit. I shall not copy the effusion of Seneca, which was more cunning than philosophical; but it contained a strong profession of love, urged in a somewhat business manner, and a generous offer of his hand to the heiress of eight thousand a year. And this proposal was made only a day or two before the fellow was "taken in the act," and at the very time he was the most deeply engaged in his schemes of anti-rentism.
"There is a class of men among us," said my uncle, after everybody had laughed at this magnificent offer, "who do not seem to entertain a single idea of the proprieties. How is it possible, or where could the chap have been bred, to fancy for an instant that a young woman of fortune and station would marry him, and that, too, almost without an acquaintance. I dare say Henrietta never spoke to him ten times in her life."
"Not five, sir, and scarcely anything was said at either of those five."
"And you answered the letter, my dear?" asked my grandmother. "An answer ought not to have been forgotten, though it might have properly come, in this case, from your guardian."