“Ay, ay, that sounds very well,” replied Middlemas; “but then one must shake off a number of old recollections.”
“The sooner the better, Dick; old recollections are like old clothes, and should be sent off by wholesale; they only take up room in one's wardrobe, and it would be old-fashioned to wear them. But you look grave upon it. Who the devil is it that has made such a hole in your heart?”
“Pshaw!” answered Middlemas, “I'm sure you must remember—Menie—my master's daughter.”
“What, Miss Green, the old pottercarrier's daughter?—a likely girl enough, I think.”
“My master is a surgeon,” said Richard, “not an apothecary, and his name is Gray.”
“Ay, ay, Green or Gray—what does it signify? He sells his own drugs, I think, which we in the south call being a pottercarrier. The girl is a likely girl enough for a Scottish ball-room. But is she up to any thing? Has she any nouz?”
“Why, she is a sensible girl, save in loving me,” answered Richard; “and that, as Benedict says, is no proof of her wisdom, and no great argument of her folly.”
“But has she spirit—spunk—dash—a spice of the devil about her?”
“Not a penny-weight—the kindest, simplest, and most manageable of human beings,” answered the lover.
“She won't do then,” said the monitor, in a decisive tone. “I am sorry for it, Dick: but she will never do. There are some women in the world that can bear their share in the bustling life we live in India—ay, and I have known some of them drag forward husbands that would otherwise have stuck fast in the mud till the day of judgment. Heaven knows how they paid the turnpikes they pushed them through! But these were none of your simple Susans, that think their eyes are good for nothing but to look at their husbands, or their fingers but to sew baby-clothes. Depend on it, you must give up your matrimony, or your views of preferment. If you wilfully tie a clog round your throat, never think of running a race; but do not suppose that your breaking off with the lass will make any very terrible catastrophe. A scene there may be at parting; but you will soon forget her among the native girls, and she will fall in love with Mr. Tapeitout, the minister's assistant and successor. She is not goods for the Indian market, I assure you.”