"But you take me so unawares—so—so—Lord, my dear Mr. Avenel; you are so hasty—I—I—." And the widow actually blushed, and was genuinely bashful.
"Those horrid Pompleys!" thought Richard, as he saw the Colonel bustling up with Mrs. M'Catchley's cloak on his arm.
"I press for your answer," continued the suitor, speaking very fast. "I shall leave this place to-morrow, if you will not give it."
"Leave this place—leave me?"
"Then you will be mine?"
"Ah, Mr. Avenel!" said the widow, languidly, and leaving her hand in his; "who can resist you?" Up came Colonel Pompley: Richard took the shawl: "No hurry for that now, Colonel—Mrs. M'Catchley feels already at home here."
Ten minutes afterwards. Richard Avenel so contrived that it was known by the whole company that their host was accepted by the Honorable Mrs. M'Catchley. And every one said, "He is a very clever man, and a very good fellow," except the Pompleys—and the Pompleys were frantic. Mr. Richard Avenel had forced his way into the aristocracy of the country. The husband of an Honorable—connected with peers!
"He will stand for our city—Vulgarian!" cried the Colonel.
"And his wife will walk out before me," cried the Colonel's lady—"nasty woman!" And she burst into tears.
The guests were gone; and Richard had now leisure to consider what course to pursue with regard to his sister and her son.