"Nay, my lord—I have no thought but for your lordship's interests, believe me."
"And so you tell me about the rustic heiress, and you propose a plan——"
"I have had the temerity to do so."
"Yes. Tell me once more about this girl—and about her fortune."
"Her name is Molly Miller: she is an orphan: her guardian is an honest sailor who has taken the greatest care of her property. She was an heiress already when her father died. That was eighteen years ago; she is now nineteen."
"Is she passable—to look at? A hoyden with a high colour, I warrant."
"A cream-coloured complexion, touched with red and pink: light hair in curls and blue eyes; the face and figure of a Venus; the sweetest mouth in the world and the fondest manner."
"Hang me if the fellow isn't in love with her, himself! If she is all this, man, why not apply yourself, for the post of spouse?"
"Because her guardian keeps off all would-be lovers and destines his ward for a gentleman at least—for a nobleman, he hopes."
"He is ambitious. Now as to her fortune."