“Never! Miss Riddle; that would be ungenerous and unmanly. There is nothing due to your sex but respect, and that, you know, is incompatible with banter.
“The wit that could wantonly sport with the modesty of woman degenerates into impudence and insult;” and he accompanied the words with a low and graceful bow.
This young fellow, thought Miss Riddle, is a gentleman.
“Yes, but, Mr. Woodward, we sometimes require a bantering; and, what is more, a remonstrance. We are not perfect, and surely it is not the part of a friend to overlook our foibles or our errors.”
“True, Miss Riddle, but it is not by bantering they will be reclaimed. A friendly remonstrance, delicately conveyed, is one thing, but the buffoonery of a banter is another.”
“What's that?” said the peer, “buffoonery! I deny it, sir, there is no buffoonery in banter.”
“Not, my lord, when it occurs between gentlemen,” replied Woodward, “but you know, with the ladies it is a different thing.”
“Ay, well, that's not bad; a proper distinction. I tell you what, Woodward, you are a clever fellow; and I'm not sure but I'll advocate your cause with Tom there. Tom, he tells me he is coming to court you, and he says he doesn't care a fig about either of us, provided he could secure your fortune. Ay, and, what's more, he says that if you and he are married, he hopes it will be in the dark. What do you think of that now?”
Miss Riddle did not blush, nor affect a burst of indignation, but she said what pleased both Woodward and his mother far better.
“Well, uncle,” she replied, calmly, “even if he did say so, I believe he only expressed in words what most, if not all, of my former lovers actually felt, but were too cautious to acknowledge.”