“I do not know whether Miss Annaly’s heart be disengaged or not—I can tell you only that she has had a number of brilliant offers, and that she has refused them all.”
“That proves that she had not found one amongst them that she liked,” said Ormond.
“Or that she liked some one better than all those whom she refused,” said Dr. Cambray.
“That is true—that is possible—that is a dreadful possibility,” said Ormond. “But do you think there is any probability of that?”
“There is, I am sorry to tell you, my dear Ormond, a probability against you—but I can only state the facts in general. I can form no opinion, for I have had no opportunity of judging—I have never seen the two young people together. But there is a gentleman of great merit, of suitable family and fortune, who is deeply in love with Miss Annaly, and who I presume has not been refused, for I understand he is soon to be here.”
“To be here!” cried Ormond: “a man of great merit!—I hope he is not an agreeable man.”
“That’s a vain hope,” said Dr. Cambray; “he is a very agreeable man.”
“Very agreeable!—What sort of person—grave or gay?—Like any body that I ever saw?”
“Yes, like a person that you have seen, and a person for whom I believe you have a regard—like his own father, your dear King Corny’s friend, General Albemarle.”
“How extraordinary!—how unlucky!” said Ormond. “I would rather my rival were any one else than the son of a man I am obliged to; and a most dangerous rival he must be, if he have his father’s merit, and his father’s manners. Oh! my dear Dr. Cambray, I am sure she likes him—and yet she could not be so cheerful in his absence, if she were much in love—I defy her; and it is impossible that he can be as much in love with her as I am, else nothing could keep him from her.”