“Well, Kitty”—he was in good humour, and apparently satisfied with the position of things—“I have thought over thy discourse of yesterday, which, I confess, greatly moved me: first, because I did not know thee to be a girl of such spirit, courage, and dignity; and second, because I now perceive that the marriage, performed in thy interest, was perhaps, as things have now turned out (which is surely providential), a mistake. Yet was it done for the best, and I repent me not. Come, then, to my lord, and let me talk to him.”
“First, sir,” I begged, “tell him not my name.”
He promised this; though, as he said, the name was on the register; and it was agreed between us that we should speak to my lord privately, and then that he was to call me, when I should play my part as best I could.
The Doctor led the way. When he entered the room I ran upstairs, and with trembling hands made myself as fine as I could; that is, I was but in morning dishabille, but I dressed my hair, and put those little touches to my frock and ribbons which every woman understands. And then I put on my hood, which I pulled quite over my face, and waited.
My lord rose angrily when he saw the Doctor.
“Sir,” he said, “this visit is an intrusion. I have no business with you; I do not desire to see you. Leave the room immediately!”
“First,” said Doctor Shovel, “I have business with your lordship.”
“I can have no business with you,” replied Lord Chudleigh. “I have already had too much business with you. Go, sir: your intrusion is an insult.”
“Dear, dear!” the Doctor replied. “This it is to be young and hot-headed and to jump at conclusions. Whereas, did the young gentleman know the things I have to say, he would welcome me with open arms.”
“You come, I suppose, to remind me of a thing of which you ought to be truly ashamed, so wicked was it.”