“If she had such a fortune as I shall have,” said Miss Hunter, “she might afford to marry for love, because you know she could make her husband afterwards keep her proper equipages, and take her to town, and go into parliament, and get a title for her too!”
“Very true, my darling,” said Mrs. Beaumont, who was at this instant so absent, that she assented without having heard one syllable that her darling said.
“But for Amelia, who has no such great fortune of her own, it is quite another thing, you know, dearest Mrs. Beaumont. Oh, you’ll see how she’ll repent when she sees you Lady Puckeridge, and herself plain Mrs. Walsingham. And when she sees the figure you’ll make in town next winter, and the style my brother will live in—Oh, then she’ll see what a difference there is between Sir John Hunter and Captain Walsingham!”
“Very true, indeed, my dear,” said Mrs. Beaumont; and this time she did not answer without having heard the assertion. The door opened.
“Captain Walsingham! dare I believe my eyes? And do I see our friend, Captain Walsingham, again at last?”
“At last! Oh, Mrs. Beaumont, you don’t know how hard I have worked to get here.”
“How kind! But won’t you sit down and tell me?”
“No; I can neither sit, nor rest, nor speak, nor think upon any subject but one,” said Captain Walsingham.
“That’s right,” cried Mr. Palmer.
“Mrs. Beaumont—pardon my abruptness,” continued Captain Walsingham, “but you see before you a man whose whole happiness is at stake. May I beg a few minutes’ conversation with you?”