“Tant mieux, say I; I really thought it had been all Matilda's.”
. . . . . .
There was a paws for a minit or two after the will had been read. Master left the desk at which he had been seated with her ladyship, paced up and down the room for a while, and then came round to the place where Miss Matilda was seated. At last he said, in a low, trembling voice,—
“I am almost sorry, my dear Lady Griffin, that you have read that will to me; for an attachment such as mine must seem, I fear, mercenary, when the object of it is so greatly favored by worldly fortune. Miss Griffin—Matilda! I know I may say the word; your dear eyes grant me the permission. I need not tell you, or you, dear mother-in-law, how long, how fondly, I have adored you. My tender, my beautiful Matilda, I will not affect to say I have not read your heart ere this, and that I have not known the preference with which you have honored me. SPEAK IT, dear girl! from your own sweet lips: in the presence of an affectionate parent, utter the sentence which is to seal my happiness for life. Matilda, dearest Matilda! say, oh say, that you love me!”
Miss M. shivered, turned pail, rowled her eyes about, and fell on master's neck, whispering hodibly, “I DO!”
My lady looked at the pair for a moment with her teeth grinding, her i's glaring, her busm throbbing, and her face chock white; for all the world like Madam Pasty, in the oppra of “Mydear” (when she's goin to mudder her childring, you recklect); and out she flounced from the room, without a word, knocking down poar me, who happened to be very near the dor, and leaving my master along with his crook-back mistress.
I've repotted the speech he made to her pretty well. The fact is, I got it in a ruff copy; only on the copy it's wrote, “Lady Griffin, Leonora!” instead of “Miss Griffin, Matilda,” as in the abuff, and so on.
Master had hit the right nail on the head this time, he thought: but his adventors an't over yet.