laced the capuchin round your
neck, and the stove under your feet, and driven your little sledge upon
the ice in winter, and your cabriole through the dust in summer, you may
dismiss him at once, without reason or apology, upon the two thousand one
hundred and ninetieth day, which, according to my hasty calculation, and
without reckoning leap-years, will complete the cycle of the supposed
adoration, and that without your amiable feelings having the slightest
occasion to be alarmed for the consequences to those of Mynheer.'

'Well,' replied Julia,' that last is truly a Dutch recommendation, Mr.
Pleydell; crystal and hearts would lose all their merit in the world if
it were not for their fragility.'

'Why, upon that point of the argument, Miss Mannering, it is as difficult
to find a heart that will break as a glass that will not; and for that
reason I would press the value of mine own, were it not that I see Mr.
Sampson's eyes have been closed, and his hands clasped for some time,
attending the end of our conference to begin the grace. And, to say the
truth, the appearance of the wild ducks is very appetising.' So saying,
the worthy Counsellor sat himself to table, and laid aside his gallantry
for awhile to do honour to the good things placed before him. Nothing
further is recorded of him for some time, excepting an observation that
the ducks were roasted to a single turn, and that Mrs. Allan's sauce of
claret, lemon, and cayenne was beyond praise.

'I see,' said Miss Mannering, 'I have a formidable rival in Mr.
Pleydell's favour, even on the very first night of his avowed
admiration.'

'Pardon me, my fair lady,' answered the Counsellor, 'your avowed rigour
alone has induced me to commit the solecism of eating a good supper in
your presence; how shall I support your frowns without reinforcing my
strength? Upon the same principle, and no other, I will ask permission to
drink wine with you.'

'This is the fashion of Utrecht also, I suppose, Mr. Pleydell?'

'Forgive me, madam,' answered the Counsellor; 'the French themselves, the
patterns of all that is gallant, term their tavern-keepers restaurateurs,
alluding, doubtless, to the relief they afford the disconsolate lover
when bowed down to the earth by his mistress's severity. My own case
requires so much relief that I must trouble you for that other wing, Mr.
Sampson, without prejudice to my afterwards applying to Miss Bertram for
a tart. Be pleased to tear the wing,