“'I should think the apothecary protection sufficient!' says our mother.
“'I don't, mother!' I bawl out, for I was very angry; 'and if Lintot offers her any liberty, I'll brain him with his own pestle!'
“'Oh! if Lintot has withdrawn, sir, I suppose I must be silent. But I did not know of the circumstance. He came hither, as I supposed, to pay court to Miss: and we all thought the match equal, and I encouraged it.'
“'He came because I had the toothache!' cries my darling (and indeed she had a dreadful bad tooth. And he took it out for her, and there is no end to the suspicions and calumnies of women).
“'What more natural than that he should marry my housekeeper's daughter—'twas a very suitable match!' continues Madam, taking snuff. 'But I confess,' she adds, going on, 'I was not aware that you intended to jilt the apothecary for my son!'
“'Peace, for Heaven's sake, peace, Mr. Warrington!' cries my angel.
“'Pray, sir, before you fully make up your mind, had you not better look round the rest of my family?' says Madam. 'Dinah is a fine tall girl, and not very black; Cleopatra is promised to Ajax the blacksmith, to be sure; but then we could break the marriage, you know. If with an apothecary, why not with a blacksmith? Martha's husband has run away, and——'
“Here, dear brother, I own I broke out a-swearing. I can't help it; but at times, when a man is angry, it do relieve him immensely. I'm blest, but I should have gone wild, if it hadn't been for them oaths.
“'Curses, blasphemy, ingratitude, disobedience,' says mother, leaning now on her tortoiseshell stick, and then waving it—something like a queen in a play. 'These are my rewards!' says she. 'O Heaven, what have I done, that I should merit this awful punishment? and does it please you to visit the sins of my fathers upon me? Where do my children inherit their pride? When I was young, had I any? When my papa bade me marry, did I refuse? Did I ever think of disobeying? No, sir. My fault hath been, and I own it, that my love was centred upon you, perhaps to the neglect of your elder brother.' (Indeed, brother, there was some truth in what Madam said.) 'I turned from Esau, and I clung to Jacob. And now I have my reward, I have my reward! I fixed my vain thoughts on this world, and its distinctions. To see my son advanced in worldly rank was my ambition. I toiled, and spared, that I might bring him worldly wealth. I took unjustly from my eldest son's portion, that my younger might profit. And oh! that I should see him seducing the daughter of my own housekeeper under my own roof, and replying to my just anger with oaths and blasphemies!'
“'I try to seduce no one, madam,' I cried out. 'If I utter oaths and blasphemies, I beg your pardon; but you are enough to provoke a saint to speak 'em. I won't have this young lady's character assailed—no, not by own mother nor any mortal alive. No, dear Miss Mountain! If Madam Esmond chooses to say that my designs on you are dishonourable,—let this undeceive her!' And, as I spoke, I went down on my knees, seizing my adorable Fanny's hand. 'And if you will accept this heart and hand, miss,' says I, 'they are yours for ever.'