Sir Charles was then engaged in talk with his Emily; she before him; he standing in an easy genteel attitude, leaning against the wainscot, listening, smiling, to her prattle, with looks of indulgent love, as a father might do to a child he was fond of; while she looked back every now and then towards me, so proud, poor dear! of being singled out by her guardian.
She tript to me afterwards, and, leaning over my shoulder, as I sat, whispered—I have been begging of my guardian to use his interest with you, madam, to take me down with you to Northamptonshire.
And what is the result?
She paused.
Has he denied your request?
No, madam.
Has he allowed you to go, my dear, if I comply, turning half round to her with pleasure.
She paused, and seemed at a loss. I repeated my question.
Why, no, he has not consented neither—But he said such charming things, so obliging, so kind, both of you, and of me, that I forgot my question, though it was so near my heart: but I will ask him again.
And thus, Lucy, can he decline complying, and yet send away a requester so much delighted with him, as to forget what her request was.