Waiting a
prompt reply, believe me, sir--Your obedient servant, Clive Newcome.
"Sir Barnes Newcome Newcome, Bart., M. P., etc."
"What a blunderhead I am!" cries the Colonel, with delight on his
countenance, spite of his professed repentance. "It never once entered my
head that the youngster would take any part in the affair. I showed him
his cousin's letter casually, just to amuse him, I think, for he has been
deuced low lately, about--about a young man's scrape that he has got
into. And he must have gone off and despatched his challenge straightway.
I recollect he appeared uncommonly brisk at breakfast the next morning.
And so you say, General, the Baronet did not like the poulet?"
"By no means; never saw a fellow show such a confounded white feather. At
first I congratulated him, thinking your boy's offer must please him, as
it would have pleased any fellow in our time to have a shot. Dammy! but I
was mistaken in my man. He entered into some confounded long-winded story
about a marriage you wanted to make with that infernal pretty sister of
his, who is going to marry young Farintosh, and how you were in a rage
because the scheme fell to the ground, and how a family duel might
occasion unpleasantries to Miss Newcome; though I showed him how this
could be most easily avoided, and that the lady's name need never appear
in the transaction.
Pages:
1301
1302
1303
1304
1305
1306
1307
1308
1309
1310
1311
1312
1313
1314
1315
1316
1317
1318
1319
1320
1321
1322
1323
1324
1325