If a man
looked at me, you fancied he was going to marry me; and if he had a good
coat, you fancied he was as rich as Crazes."
"--As Croesus," said Mr. Bows.
"Well, call 'um what ye like. But it's a fact now that Papa has married
me these eight years a score of times. Wasn't I to be my Lady Poldoody of
Oystherstown Castle? Then there was the Navy Captain at Portsmouth, and
the old surgeon at Norwich, and the Methodist preacher here last year,
and who knows how many more? Well, I bet a penny, with all your scheming,
I shall die Milly Costigan at last. So poor little Arthur has no money?
Stop and take dinner, Bows; we've a beautiful beef-steak pudding."
"I wonder whether she is on with Sir Derby Oaks," thought Bows, whose
eyes and thoughts were always watching her. "The dodges of women beat all
comprehension; and I am sure she wouldn't let the lad off so easily, if
she had not some other scheme on hand."
It will have been perceived that Miss Fotheringay, though silent in
general, and by no means brilliant as a conversationist, where poetry,
literature, or the fine arts were concerned, could talk freely, and with
good sense, too, in her own family circle.
Pages:
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274