"O dear Sir, how do you overrate my poor merit!—Some persons are happy in a life of comforts, but mine's a life of joy!—One rapturous instance follows another so fast, that I know not how to bear them."
"Whew!" whistled Sir Jacob. "Whereabouts am I?—I hope by-and-by you'll come down to our pitch, that one may put in a word or two with you."
"May you be long thus blest and happy together!" said Lady Davers. "I know not which to admire most, the dear girl that never was bad, or the dear man, who, having been bad, is now so good!"
Said Lord Davers, "There is hardly any bearing these moving scenes, following one another so quick, as my sister says."
The countess was pleased to say, that till now she had been at a loss to form any notion of the happiness of the first pair before the Fall; but now, by so fine an instance as this, she comprehended it in all its force. "God continue you to one another," added she, "for a credit to the state, and to human nature."
Mr. H., having his elbows on the table, folded his hands, shaking them, and looking down—"Egad, this is uncommon life, that it is! Your two souls, I can see that, are like well-tuned instruments; but they are too high set for me, a vast deal."
"The best thing," said Lady Davers (always severe upon her poor nephew), "thou ever saidst. The music must be equal to that of Orpheus, which can make such a savage as thee dance to it. I charge thee, say not another word tonight."—"Why, indeed, aunt," returned he, laughing, "I believe it was pretty well said for your foolish fellow: though it was by chance, I must confess; I did not think of it."—"That I believe," replied my lady; "if thou hadst, thou'dst not have spoken so well."
Sir Jacob and Mr. B. afterwards fell into a family discourse; and Sir Jacob told us of two or three courtships by his three sons, and to his two daughters, and his reasons for disallowing them: and I could observe, he is an absolute tyrant in his family, though they are all men and women grown, and he seemed to please himself how much they stood in awe of him.
I would not have been so tediously trifling, but for the sake of my dear parents; and there is so much self-praise, as it may seem, from a person on repeating the fine things said of herself, that I am half of opinion I should send them to Kent only, and to think you should be obliged to me for saving you so much trouble and impertinence.
Do, dear Miss, be so free as to forbid me to send you any more long journals, but common letters only, of how you do? and who and who's together, and of respects to one another, and so forth—letters that one might dispatch, as Sir Jacob says, in a twinkling, and perhaps be more to the purpose than the tedious scrawl which kisses your hands, from yours most sincerely, P.B.