I touched first one hand, then the other, of the perverse baby with my
lips--Now am I forgiven: now is my friend Beauchamp permitted to return
to his native country: now are Sir Harry and his Lady reconciled--Come,
come, madam, it must be so--What foolish things are the quarrels of
married people!--They must come to an agreement again; and the sooner the
better; before hard blows are struck, that will leave marks--Let us, dear
madam, find out Sir Harry--
And then, with an air of vivacity, that women, whether in courtship or
out of it, dislike not, I was leading her once more to the door, and, as
I intended, to Sir Harry, wherever he could be found.
Hold, hold, sir! resisting; but with features far more placid than she
had suffered to be before visible--If I must be compelled--You are a
strange man, Sir Charles Grandison--If I must be compelled to see Sir
Harry--But you are a strange man--And she rang the bell.
Lady Beauchamp, Dr. Bartlett, is one of those who would be more ready to
forgive an innocent freedom, than to be gratified by a profound respect;
otherwise I had not treated her with so little ceremony. Such women are
formidable only to those who are afraid of their anger, or who make it a
serious thing.
But when the servant appeared, she not knowing how to condescend, I said,
Go to your master, sir, and tell him that your lady requests the
favour--
Requests the favour! repeated she; but in a low voice: which was no bad
sign.
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