“And quite right too, miss. I would cut you off with an anna if you was, for making me father-in-law to a fool. But what’s happened to the young ’Squire of the Rueful Countenance that I met just now? Han’t he yet made his choice between you and t’other lady?”
“Oh, dear sir, he says there’s no one but myself,” I sobbed.
“And you’d prefer there should be some one else as well? Come, miss, I can’t have you take up with these pagan notions, though you be living among the Moors. Is the gentleman dismissed because he adores no one but you?”
“No, sir, but because he made me believe there was some one else.”
“Then, ’tis as well he’s gone, for he must be a fool too,” says Mr Freyne. “Come, cheer up, my girl, and don’t give way to these vapours. What, you want the fool back, do you? Your father’s to fetch him, I suppose, and tell him you’ll die if you don’t have him?”
“No, indeed, sir!” I cried, dashing away my tears. “I—I hate him!”
“Why, then you shan’t have him, miss,” says my papa.
CHAPTER VII.
WHICH TREATS OF TREASONS, STRATAGEMS, AND SPOILS.
Calcutta, April ye 15th.
Well, Amelia, Mr Fraser is departed, and I have not seen him since he turned his back on me and strode out of the varanda. I don’t know whether he desired me to understand his visit as a final and never-to-be-repeated offer of his affections, so that, once refused, the chance of gaining ’em would not present itself again, but his acts seem to give countenance to the notion. So then, my dear, your Sylvia finds herself deserted, but in such a mood, I am thankful to say, that she would not lower herself to call the young gentleman back, even were he descending the steps at this moment. My dear Miss Turnor won’t be surprised to hear that her friend has been busy summing up Mr Fraser’s defects, in order the more easily to fortify her mind against the reflection that she has lost him. Here’s a portion of the list: Item, the gentleman is proud; item, he is over-prudent; item, he resents the discovery of his faults; item, he wickedly risqued his own life and that of another person in a duel over a word; item—but the total would be too long. In short, your Sylvia is occupied, with extreme industry, in proving to herself that the grapes are sour.