It is, said the Peer: but, Sir, let me ask you a few questions, before you read it—give me the letter, Lady Betty.
There it is, my Lord.
Then on went the spectacles, and his head moved to the lines—a charming pretty hand!—I have often heard that this lady is a genius.
And so, Jack, repeating my Lord's wise comments and questions will let thee into the contents of this merciless letter.
'Monday, July 3,' [reads my Lord.]—Let me see!—that was last Monday; no longer ago! 'Monday, July the third—Madam—I cannot excuse myself'—um, um, um, um, um, um, [humming inarticulately, and skipping,]—'I must own to you, Madam, that the honour of being related'——
Off went the spectacles—Now, tell me, Sir-r, Has not this lady lost all the friends she had in the world for your sake?
She has very implacable friends, my Lord: we all know that.
But has she not lost them all for your sake?—Tell me that.
I believe so, my Lord.
Well then!—I am glad thou art not so graceless as to deny that.