"He thinks more than he says, my dear."
"I hate people who think: thinking makes every thing worse: luckily, I have quite given up thinking about Isabel, or her loud laugh would kill me."
"Boscawen does not object to Isabel's joyous laugh, Gertrude; he hopes to hear it in perpetuity."
"I wish he would take her to himself, then," replied his lady, gently yawning, and taking up a novel.
"Boscawen has proposed for Isabel," said Sir John, seriously.
"How can you talk such nonsense, Sir John! if the old man proposes to any body, it will certainly be to Anna Maria. I saw he admired her exceedingly—so does every body: she is very captivating."
"Boscawen has proposed for Isabel, however," he returned; "and though he is too advanced in years for a young girl's speculation, yet, if she could fancy him, I think she might be happy. I wish you to speak to your daughter upon the subject, Gertrude. If she has the slightest disinclination to Boscawen, do not mention him a second time: I will not allow her to be talked into matrimony."
"Then, talk to her yourself, Sir John. I am quite overpowered by the surprise. I was so certain Boscawen admired Anna Maria; but since he has the bad taste to prefer Isabel, she ought not to demur an instant. Boscawen is very rich, and I dare say he will act very handsomely as to settlements. When old men marry young wives, they ought to pay for the distinction. Isabel will be very foolish if she declines him."
Anna Maria at this moment appeared at the door, and Lady Wetheral's ideas excursed at the sight of her beautiful daughter, still so admired, yet unsought.