What a man have we got here, Sir Harry? This cannot be the modest man, that you have praised to me—I thought a good man must of necessity be bashful, if not sheepish: and here your visitor is the boldest man in England.
The righteous, Lady Beauchamp, said Sir Harry, with an aspect but half-conceding, is bold as a lion.
And must I be compelled thus, and by such a man, to forgive you, Sir
Harry?—Indeed you were very unkind.
And you, Lady Beauchamp, were very cruel.
I did not think, sir, when I laid my fortune at your feet—
O, Lady Beauchamp! You said cutting things! Very cutting things.
And did not you, Sir Harry, say, it should be so?—So very peremptorily!
Not, madam, till you, as peremptorily—
A little recrimination, thought I, there must be, to keep each in countenance on their past folly.
Ah, Sir Charles!—You may rejoice that you are not married, said Sir
Harry.