person you mean
is not to be distress'd by _my_ absence.

He is, upon my honour;--I know _he is_.--Lord Darcey loves you to
distraction.

Poh! Edmund; don't take such things into your head: I know _you_ wish me
well; but don't be so sanguine!--Lord Darcey stoop to think of _me!_

Stoop to think of _you_, Miss Warley!--I am out of all patience: stoop
to think of _you!_--I shall never forget _that_.--Greatly as I honour
his Lordship, if he conceals his sentiments, if he trifles in an affair
of such importance,--was he the first duke in the kingdom, I hold him
below the regard even of such a one as _I_ am.--Pardon my curiosity,
madam, I mean no ill; but surely he has made proposals to you.

Well, then, I will tell you, Edmund;--I'll tell you frankly, he never
_has_ made proposals:--and further, I can answer for him, he never
_will_.--His belief was stagger'd;--he stood still, his eyes fixed on
the ground.

Are you _really_ in earnest, Miss Warley?

Really, Edmund.

Then, for heaven's sake, go to France.--But how can you tell, madam, he
never intends to make proposals?

On which I related what passed at table, the day Lord Allen dined at the
Abbey.--Nothing could equal his astonishment; yet would he fain have
persuaded me that I did not understand him;--call'd it misapprehension,
and I know not what.

He _will_ offer you his hand, Miss Warley; he certainly _will_.--I've
known him from a school-boy;--I'm acquainted with every turn of his
mind;--I know his very looks;--I have observ'd them when they have been
directed to you:--he will, I repeat,--he will offer you his hand.

No! Edmund:--but if he _did_, his overtures should be disregarded.

Say not so, Miss Warley; for God's sake, say not so again;--it kills me
to think you _hate_ Lord Darcey.

I speak to you, Edmund, as a friend, as a brother:--never let what has
pass'd escape your lips.

If I do, madam, what must I deserve?--To be shut out from your
confidence is a punishment only fit for such a breach of trust.--But,
for heaven's sake, do not _hate_ Lord Darcey.

Mr. Jenkings appeared at this juncture, and look'd displeas'd.--How
strangely are we given to mistakes!--I betray'd the same confusion, as
if I had been really carrying on a clandestine affair with his son.--In
a very angry tone he said, I thought, Edmund, you was to assist me,
knowing how much I had on my hands, before Lord Darcey sets out;--but I
find business is not _your_ pursuit:--I believ