You shall not,
sir, allow him either the two or three hundred a year. See him with
love, with indulgence (he will deserve both;) and think not of any thing
else for my Beauchamp.
There is no bearing this, my dear, said Sir Harry; leaning upon his
lady's shoulder, as he sat, tears in his eyes--My son is already, as I
have heard, greatly obliged to this his true friend--Do you, do you,
madam, answer for me, and for yourself.
She was overcome: yet pride had its share with generosity. You are, said
she, the Grandison I have heard of: but I will not be under obligations
to you--not pecuniary ones, however. No, Sir Harry! Recall your son: I
will trust to your love: do for him what you please: let him be
independent on this insolent man; [She said this with a smile, that made
it obliging;] and if we are to be visitors, friends, neighbours, let it
be on an equal foot, and let him have nothing to reproach us with.
I was agreeably surprised at this emanation (shall I call it?) of
goodness: she is really not a bad woman, but a perverse one; in short,
one of those whose passions, when rightly touched, are liable to sudden
and surprising turns.
Generous, charming Lady Beauchamp! said I: now are you the woman, whom I
have so often heard praised for many good qualities: now will the
portrait be a just one!
Sir Harry was in raptures; but had like to have spoiled all, by making me
a compliment on the force of example.
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