When the doctor rose presently, saying he would go and see the gardener’s child, who was ill, and casting longing looks at Miss Prior, I assure you I did not feel a tittle of jealousy, though Miss Bessy actually followed Mr. Drencher into the lawn, under the pretext of calling back Miss Cissy, who had run thither without her bonnet.
“Now, Lady Baker, which was right? you or I?” asks bonny Mrs. Bonnington, wagging her head towards the lawn where this couple of innocents were disporting.
“You thought there was an affair between Miss Prior and the medical gentleman,” I say, smiling. “It was no secret, Mrs. Bonnington?”
“Yes, but there were others who were a little smitten in that quarter too,” says Lady Baker, and she in turn wags her old head towards me.
“You mean me?” I answer, as innocent as a new-born babe. “I am a burnt child, Lady Baker; I have been at the fire, and am already thoroughly done, thank you. One of your charming sex jilted me some years ago; and once is quite enough, I am much obliged to you.”
This I said, not because it was true; in fact, it was the reverse of truth; but if I choose to lie about my own affairs, pray, why not? And though a strictly truth-telling man generally, when I do lie, I promise you, I do it boldly and well.
“If, as I gather from Mrs. Bonnington, Mr. Drencher and Miss Prior like each other, I wish my old friend joy. I wish Mr. Drencher joy with all my heart. The match seems to me excellent. He is a deserving, a clever, and a handsome young fellow; and I am sure, ladies, you can bear witness to her goodness, after all you have known of her.”
“My dear Batchelor,” says Mrs. Bonnington, still smiling and winking, “I don’t believe one single word you say—not one single word!” And she looks infinitely pleased as she speaks.
“Oh!” cries Lady Baker, “my good Mrs. Bonnington, you are always match-making—don’t contradict me. You know you thought——”
“Oh, please don’t,” cries Mrs. B.