“Now let me but find my best muff,” she said, “come prince and peer, I shall be ready to receive them.”
“Pshaw! your muff—who has heard of such a thing these twenty years? Muffs were out of fashion before you were born.”
“No matter, John,” replied his sister; “when a woman wears a muff, especially a determined old maid like myself, it is a sign she has no intentions to scratch; and therefore the muff serves all the purposes of a white flag, and prevents the necessity of drawing on a glove, so prudentially recommended by the motto of our cousins, the M'Intoshes.”[4]
“Be it as you will, then,” said Mowbray; “for other than you do will it, you will not suffer it to be.—But how is this!—another billet?—We are in request this morning.”
“Now, Heaven send his lordship may have judiciously considered all the risks which he is sure to encounter on this charmed ground, and resolved to leave his adventure unattempted,” said Miss Mowbray.
Her brother glanced a look of displeasure at her, as he broke the seal of the letter, which was addressed to him with the words, “Haste and secrecy,” written on the envelope. The contents, which greatly surprised him, we remit to the commencement of the next chapter.