“I think, madam,” says I, “that you can scarce deem me likely to wish to force Mrs Brandon’s inclinations? Nevertheless, ’tis allowable in me to cherish a hope that, while demanding no more favour at starting than any other person, I may be able to show my regret for my former carriage, and perhaps in due time to enlist her heart in my cause.”
“And in what kind of cause is that?” says she. “Can you dare to hope, sir, can you even wish, that Mrs Brandon should give her heart into the keeping of a person that han’t so much as a heart, though never such a poor one, to give her in return, since his own was lost in foreign parts long ago? Nay, madam,” for her mother was showing herself desirous to arrest her in her discourse, “prythee let me speak. ’Tis but just that Mr Carlyon should hear the truth. There an’t none at the Hall will tell it him, and ’tis well he should know how Mrs Dorothy’s friends regard him. Pray, sir, do you think that Mrs Brandon is your property, like your horse or your blackamoor, that having once cast her aside, you may gain her again at your conveniency?”
“Indeed, madam,” quoth I, “I am but too much sensible of my faithless and evil conduct in the past, and yet at times I entertain such confidence in Mrs Brandon’s gentle and forgiving spirit as I am almost ready to believe she will admit me to her favour again upon assurance of my sincere repentance.”
Now this indeed was that very thing whereof I was perpetually doubting nowadays, and nothing was further from my intention than to make such a boast, but yet I could not resist giving utterance thereto, being somewhat heated by Mrs Packworth’s condemnation of me. But she was a better fighter than I.
“Welladay!” she cries, “that I should live to hear a gentleman affirm coolly that he desires and expects a lady to receive him into her favour when not only he don’t offer her any love, but glories in having none to offer!”
“In truth, madam,” says I, mighty uncomfortable, “you know more of my heart than I, for it is so prodigiously tumbled up and down that no pains will enable me to read it aright.”
“Is that so, sir?” saith she. “Then pray listen to me, for I have that to tell you which shall quickly resolve your doubts as to the nature of your resentiments for Mrs Brandon. Two or three minutes back you seemed (though little as if you feared any such thing) to remember that ’twas possible Mrs Brandon might entertain other views for the disposal of her hand. Now thus much I can tell you, that there is a certain gentleman in whose cause her heart is very deeply engaged, so much so, that I am well assured she should never entertain with pleasure a proposition of marriage from any other. And I don’t say this out of malice only, for ’tis absolute truth, as my mother will assure you.”
“And this gentleman’s name?” said I, with an air of as great calmness as I could assume, though it seemed to me as if a sudden thick darkness were spread all around me.
“That I must not tell you,” says she. “Nay, mother, I’ll not have you speak, if you please. What! shall we betray Mrs Dorothy’s confidence that she hath reposed in us?”
“I can’t tell,” said I, though slowly and with difficulty, “who this person may be. Hath he visited upon my cousin since my return?”