“ ’Tis all one as though we was children again,” she said, as though excusing herself. “We have sat here so often just as now, and you have read Argalus and Parthenia by the firelight.”
“I have wished more than once, cousin,” says I, “that we might be Polyxandra and Cleombrocles again, with all our troubles but a phantasy.”
“And so have I,” she said, and was silent, and neither she nor I spake one word for some time. Then Dorothy rose up suddenly.
“ ’Tis a foolish wish, cousin,” says she. “We an’t babes now, but man and woman grown, and as our lives are, so we have made ’em, and so they must be lived.”
And thus saying, she left me, I feigning still to read in the old book, but seeing none of the words in its pages. For I knew that my cousin was not wont to be thus difficult and bitter, as in these last two days, except upon occasion, and I could well conceive that this occasion arose upon the trouble in which she found herself with regard to her servant, she not knowing whether I would entertain his suit with favour or not. I being then mighty grieved to cause so much sorrow not only to myself but to her, did determine to learn from Mrs Skipwith this gentleman’s name and quality, and so invite him to visit me, when I might endeavour so to order matters as to lead to their happiness. But as it chanced, I could do no more that night, for there come from London by waggon all my heavy chests of toys and suchlike bought in the Indies, and I had much ado to stow them all away. I was minded at first to open them, but in the first that come to hand was there naught but jewellery and other furniture that I had bought with an eye to Dorothy, at that time when I so foolishly and presumptuously believed that if I did but return home and ask her, she should be ready to marry me on the instant. And these I could not now bear to see, both from the shame and the sorrow that possessed me, so that I thrust ’em back into their box, and had ’em all put out of sight at once. And after that was there only time for my one game of chess with Mrs Skipwith, and then to bed, very weary and prodigious unhappy.
And in the morning, reflecting that when a disagreeable piece of business is to be done, it were as well done sooner as later, I sought Mrs Skipwith at an hour when I knew that Dorothy was wont to be in the kitchen or the still-room overlooking the maids. And first of all I made her a compliment upon my cousin’s figure and her good breeding, saying that sure no country lady had ever such elegant manners before. But this, says I, was evidently to be traced to the excellence of her instructress in the same line. And at this Mrs Skipwith smiled and bridled, conceiving herself highly flattered, and declared that she and Mrs Sternhold had ofttimes said one to another that ’twas a thousand pities that so divine a creature should be so little seen and admired.
“Do I understand you to intend, madam,” says I, “that my cousin han’t seen no genteel company, such as her quality and her breeding alike fit her to adorn?”
“Nay, sir,” says Mrs Skipwith, “there is several gentlewomen, the ladies of persons of substance in the county, that have shown ’emselves prodigious kind to Mrs Brandon, and I have often waited upon her to their houses. ’Twas your honoured father’s desire that she should enjoy all the diversion she might properly obtain, and this in especial after that letter of your honour’s come from that French place,—some Popish name it had, but I have forgot it. But, as I was a-saying, Sir Harry says to me, on his receiving this letter, that Mrs Dorothy must needs have her chance, for ’twas indeed her right, and if she should meet with any gentleman of suitable fortune that wan’t disagreeable to her, he would not keep ’em from marrying. And sure she had her chance, if ever a young damsel did, for there wan’t a gentleman in these parts (that was unwedded, I would say) that did not seek her company, and there was very many made proposals of marriage to Sir Harry for her.”
“And pray, madam,” says I, groaning within myself to perceive how many were desirous to obtain the treasure that I had been so ready to cast away, “in the cause of which of these gentlemen was my cousin’s heart the most engaged?”
“Why, sir, for none of ’em,” quoth she very quickly, as though in astonishment; “not even my Lord Harmarthwaite nor my lord Duke of London (that are both wedded now, and very high indeed), could touch her heart. The second (as I know, for Sir Harry told me on’t, though Mrs Brandon never a word) was very urgent with her to wed him, saying that she was designed by nature to be the star of the Court, and not to be lost here in the country, but she thanked him very modestly for the honour he had wished to do her, and begged him to pardon her refusing his proposals. And touching my Lord Harmarthwaite, I think Mr Sternhold writ to you, sir, for he was very well affected towards him, and thought Mrs Brandon a fool for her pains in refusing him.”