“My dear father!” said Laura, interrupting him, “you surely forget yourself! The gentleman, whom you thus rudely threaten, is our neighbour’s son, Mr. Langley, the West-India merchant, in Lombard-street.”
“Mr. Langley’s son!”
“Yes, Sir,” returned Edwin; “and though not blessed with equal fortune with yourself, I have yet sufficient to support the rank of a gentleman. I love your daughter; I long have loved her; and she has taught me to believe that she returns my affection. I ask no fortune; give me my Laura, and dispose of your wealth in whatever manner you please!”
“Very romantic, faith!—And pray, fellow, do you know who you speak so freely to?”
“O, very well, Sir!”
“That I am George Dalby, Esq. a member of the House of Commons?” Edwin bowed. “And that I have an estate free and unincumbered—look you, Sir, free and unincumbered—that netts 10,000l. a year?”
“To none of these acquisitions am I a stranger, Sir,” returned Edwin.
“And you, Laura, will you so far disgrace yourself and me, to throw yourself away on a dry-salter’s son?—A fortune-hunter!—A beggar!”
“A what, Sir?” interrupted Edwin, with much warmth. “But I forget myself—you are my Laura’s father!”
“Sir,” said Laura, “I confess that I entertain a partiality for Edwin. I know his worth; and will renounce all titles, rank and distinction, wealth and pleasure, to live the partner of his life!”