Pardon, Sir Charles Grandison! You are a good man, and it was kindly intended—
He was going on: anger from his eyes flashed upon his cheek-bones, and made them shine. My lady's eyes struck fire at Sir Harry, and shewed that she was not afraid of him.
Better intended, than done, interrupted I, since my lady tells me, that it was the occasion of a misunderstanding—But, sir, all will be right: my lady assures me, that you are not disinclined to comply with the contents; and she has the goodness—
Pray, Sir Charles, interrupted the lady—
To give me hopes that she—
Pray, Sir Charles—
Will use her interest to confirm you in your favourable sentiments—
Sir Harry cleared up at once—May I hope, madam—And offered to take her hand.
She withdrew it with an air. O Dr. Bartlett, I must have been thought an unpolite husband, had she been my wife!
I took her hand. Excuse this freedom, Sir Harry—For Heaven's sake, madam, (whispering,) do what I know you will do, with a grace—Shall there be a misunderstanding, and the husband court a refused hand?—I then forced her half-unwilling hand into his, with an air that I intended should have both freedom and respect in it.