"Yes, Sir Jacob, I do: and you'll do so too, when you see her."—"Why, thou countenancest him in his folly, child: I'd a better opinion of thy spirit! Thou married to a lord, and thy brother to a—Can'st tell me what, Barbara? If thou can'st, pr'ythee do."—"To an angel; and so you'll say presently."

"What, dost think I shall look through his foolish eyes? What a disgrace to a family ancienter than the Conquest! O Tempora! O Mores! What will this world come to?" The countess was diverted with this odd gentleman, but ran on in my praise, for fear he should say some rude things to me when I came in; and Lady Davers seconded her. But all signified nothing. He would tell us both his mind, let the young whelp (that was his word) take it as he would—"And pray," said he, "can't I see this fine body before he comes in? Let me but turn her round two or three times, and ask her a question or two; and by her answer I shall know what to think of her in a twinkling."—"She is gone to take a little airing, Sir Jacob, and won't be back till supper-time."

"Supper-time! Why, she is not to sit at table, is she? If she does, I won't; that's positive. But now you talk of a supper, what have you?—I must have a boiled chicken, and shall eat it all myself. Who's housekeeper now? I suppose all's turned upside down."

"No, there is not one new servant, except a girl that waits upon her own person: all the old ones remain."—"That's much! These creatures generally take as great state upon them as a born lady; and they're in the right. If they can make the man stoop to the great point, they'll hold his nose to the grind-stone: and all the little ones come about in course."—"Well, Sir Jacob, when you see her, you'll alter your mind."—"Never, never; that's positive."

"Ay, Sir Jacob, I was as positive as you once; but I love her now as well as if she were my own sister."

"O hideous, hideous! All the fools he has made wherever he has travelled, will clap their hands at him, and at you too, if you talk at this rate. But let me speak to Mrs. Jervis, if she be here: I'll order my own supper."

So he went out, saying, he knew the house, though in a better mistress's days. The countess said, if Mr. B. as she hoped, kept his temper, there would be good diversion with the old gentleman. "O yes," said my lady, "my brother will, I dare say. He despises the surly brute too much to be angry with him, say what he will." He talked a great deal against me to Mrs. Jervis. You may guess, my dear, that she launched out in my praises; and he was offended at her, and said, "Woman! woman! forbear these ill-timed praises; her birth's a disgrace to our family. What! my sister's waiting-maid, taken upon charity! I cannot bear it." I mention all these things, as I afterwards heard them, because it shall prepare you to judge what a fine time I was likely to have of it. When Mr. B. and my Lord Davers, and Mr. H. came home, which they did about half an hour after six, they were told who was there, just as they entered the parlour; and Mr. B. smiled at Lord Davers, and entering, "Sir Jacob," said he, "welcome to Bedfordshire; and thrice welcome to this house; I rejoice to see you."

My lady says, never was so odd a figure as the old baronet made, when thus accosted. He stood up indeed; but as Mr. B. offered to take his hand, he put 'em both behind him. "Not that you know of. Sir!" And then looking up at his face, and down at his feet, three or four times successively, "Are you my brother's son? That very individual son, that your good father used to boast of, and say, that for handsome person, true courage, noble mind, was not to be matched in any three counties in England?"

"The very same, dear Sir, that my honoured father's partiality used to think he never praised enough."

"And what is all of it come to at last?—He paid well, did he not, to teach you to know the world, nephew! hadst thou been born a fool, or a raw greenhead, or a doating greyhead—"—"What then, Sir Jacob?"—"Why then thou wouldst have done just as thou hast done!"—"Come, come, Sir Jacob, you know not my inducement. You know not what an angel I have in person and mind. Your eyes shall by and bye be blest with the sight of her: your ears with hearing her speak: and then you'll call all you have said, profanation."—"What is it I hear? You talk in the language of romance; and from the housekeeper to the head of the house, you're all stark staring mad. Nephew, I wish, for thy own credit, thou wert—But what signifies wishing?—I hope you'll not bring your syren into my company."