MRS. MAJOR (smiling). And they said, “I love you?”
FANNY. Distinctly! Well, I thought to myself it’s not a bit of use going on like this. It’s quite evident the poor man worships the very ground I tread upon. So when he called next day, and I told him, in tremulous accents, of course, that I was going away, the effect was magical. First he turned pale, then red, then blue; then he let his hat fall, then his umbrella, then himself—on both his knees, at both my feet, and there, I believe, he would have remained till further notice, if I hadn’t said to him, “Augustus”—his name is Augustus—“I won’t pretend to misunderstand you. You love me! I am yours!”
MRS. MAJOR. What! Such an act of thoughtlessness, of indiscretion, on your part!
FANNY. Perhaps it was, but I know this: it quite cured him of his timidity; for when he once did begin, I never heard anybody’s tongue rattle on at such a rate as his did—never!
MRS. MAJOR. And the result, I presume, was—
FANNY. That we both, then and there, exchanged vows of constancy and locks of hair! His is rather red, by-the-bye! But I see mamma coming!
MRS. MAJOR. Then I’ll retire. Seeing us closeted together would only arouse her ridiculous jealousy.
FANNY. And I’ll see if I can’t find an opportunity to slip in a word about Augustus. In the mean time you’ll keep my secret?
MRS. MAJOR. Religiously! for your sake (going up).
FANNY. And Boodle’s.