“Well,” said Mr. Palmer, “good bye for the present, my little Amelia, my darling little Amelia! I am so delighted to find that Captain Walsingham’s the man, and so glad you have no mysteries: be well, be well soon. I am so pleased, so happy, that I am as unruly as a child, and as easily managed. You see, how I let myself be turned out of the room.”
“Not turned out, only carried out,” said Mrs. Beaumont, who never, even in the most imminent perils, lost her polite presence of mind. Having thus carried off Mr. Palmer, she was in hopes that, in the joyful confusion of his mind, he would he easily satisfied with any plausible explanation. Therefore she dexterously fixed his attention on the future, and adverted as slightly as possible to the past.
“Now, my good sir, congratulate me,” said she, “on the prospect I have of happiness in such a son-in-law as Captain Walsingham, if it be indeed true that Captain Walsingham is really attached to Amelia. But, on the other hand, what shall we do if there is any truth in the story of the Spanish lady? Oh, there’s the difficulty! Between hope and fear, I am in such a distracted state at this moment, I hardly know what I say. What shall we do about the Spanish lady?”
“Do, my dear madam! we can do nothing at all in that case: but I will hope the best, and you’ll see that he will prove a constant man at last. In the mean time, how was all that about Sir John Hunter, and what are you to do with him?”
“Leave that to me; I will settle all that,” cried Mrs. Beaumont.
“But I hope the poor man, though I don’t like him, has not been jilted?”
“No, by no means; Amelia’s incapable of that. You know she told you just now that she never liked him.”
“Ay; but I think, madam, you told me, that she did,” said Mr. Palmer, sticking to his point with a decided plainness, which quite disconcerted Mrs. Beaumont.
“It was all a mistake,” said she, “quite a mistake; and I am sure you rejoice with me that it was so: and, as to the rest—past blunders, like past misfortunes, are good for nothing but to be forgotten.”
Observing that Mr. Palmer looked dissatisfied, Mrs. Beaumont continued apologizing. “I confess you have to all appearance some cause to be angry with me,” said she: “but now only hear me. Taking the blame upon myself, let me candidly tell you the whole truth, and all my reasons, foolish perhaps as they were. Captain Walsingham behaved so honourably, and had such command over his feelings, that I, who am really the most credulous creature in the world, was so completely deceived, that I fancied he never had a thought of Amelia, and that he never would think of her; and I own this roused both my pride and my prudence for my daughter; and I certainly thought it my duty, as her mother, to do every thing in my power to discourage in her young and innocent heart a hopeless passion. It was but within these few hours that I have been undeceived by you as to his sentiments. That, of course, made an immediate change, as you have seen, in my measures; for such is my high opinion of the young man, and indeed my desire to be connected with the Walsinghams is so great, that even whilst I am in total ignorance of what the amount or value may be of this prize that he has taken, and even whilst I am in doubt concerning this Spanish incognita, I have not hesitated to declare, perhaps imprudently, to Amelia, as you have just heard, my full approbation of the choice of her heart.”