At the foot of the hill Lord Chudleigh left us, and turned in the direction of Durdans, where he remained all that day, coming not to the Assembly in the evening. Mrs. Esther and I went home together to dinner, and I know not who was the better pleased with the sport and the gaiety of the morning, my kind madam or Cicely, the maid, who had been upon the Downs and had her fortune told by the gipsies, and it was a good one.
“But, my dear,” said Mrs. Esther, “it is strange indeed that so loutish and countrified a bumpkin should be the son of parents so well-bred as Sir Robert and Lady Levett.”
“Yet,” I said, “the loutish bumpkin would have me marry him. Dear lady, would you wish your Kitty to be the wife of a man who loves the stable first, the kennel next, and his wife after his horses and his dogs?”
After dinner, as I expected, Will Levett called in person. He had been drinking strong ale with his dinner, and his speech was thick.
“Your servant, madam,” he said to Mrs. Esther. “I want speech, if I may have it, with Miss Kitty, alone by herself, for all she sits with her finger in her mouth yonder, as if she was not jumping with joy to see me again.”
“Sir!” I cried.
“Oh! I know your ways and tricks. No use pretending with me. Yet I like them to be skittish. It is their nature to. For all your fine frocks, you’re none of you any better than Molly the blacksmith’s girl, or Sukey at the Mill. Never mind, my girl. Be as fresh and frolic as you please. I like you the better for it—before we are married.”
“Kitty dear,” cried Mrs. Esther in alarm, “what does this gentleman mean?”
“I do not know, dear madam. Pray, Will, if you can, explain what you mean?”
“Explain? explain? Why——” here he swore again, but I will not write down his profane and wicked language. Suffice it to say that he called heaven and earth to witness his astonishment. “Why, you mean to look me in the face and tell me you don’t know?”