“Nay, sir,” says Mrs Skipwith, “there is several gentlewomen, the ladies of persons of substance in the county, that have shown ’emselves prodigious kind to Mrs Brandon, and I have often waited upon her to their houses. ’Twas your honoured father’s desire that she should enjoy all the diversion she might properly obtain, and this in especial after that letter of your honour’s come from that French place,--some Popish name it had, but I have forgot it. But, as I was a-saying, Sir Harry says to me, on his receiving this letter, that Mrs Dorothy must needs have her chance, for ’twas indeed her right, and if she should meet with any gentleman of suitable fortune that wan’t disagreeable to her, he would not keep ’em from marrying. And sure she had her chance, if ever a young damsel did, for there wan’t a gentleman in these parts (that was unwedded, I would say) that did not seek her company, and there was very many made proposals of marriage to Sir Harry for her.” “And pray, madam,” says I, groaning within myself to perceive how many were desirous to obtain the treasure that I had been so ready to cast away, “in the cause of which of these gentlemen was my cousin’s heart the most engaged?” “Why, sir, for none of ’em,” quoth she very quickly, as though in astonishment; “not even my Lord Harmarthwaite nor my lord Duke of London (that are both wedded now, and very high indeed), could touch her heart. The second (as I know, for Sir Harry told me on’t, though Mrs Brandon never a word) was very urgent with her to wed him, saying that she was designed by nature to be the star of the Court, and not to be lost here in the country, but she thanked him very modestly for the honour he had wished to do her, and begged him to pardon her refusing his proposals. And touching my Lord Harmarthwaite, I think Mr Sternhold writ to you, sir, for he was very well affected towards him, and thought Mrs Brandon a fool for her pains in refusing him.” “Then,” said I, cursing myself once again for my folly in rejecting the happiness that had once been mine for the asking, “I must ask you, madam, to make clear for me a certain matter. ’Tis told me that my cousin entertains a preference for a gentleman whose name is unknown to me. Who is this person? and where did Mrs Brandon fall in with him if not in company?” But upon this Mrs Skipwith seemed confused and out of countenance. “I’ll answer for’t that she han’t met with him in company,” was all I might prevail upon her to say. “But pray, madam,” says I, “how am I to discover this gentleman if you won’t be good enough to tell me his name? Must I ask it of my cousin herself?” “Sir,” says she, “I can’t doubt but you’ll find that your best course, for I hold no authority to give you any news of this person.” “Pray, madam,” says I, somewhat angry, “am I to understand that my cousin hath forbid you to touch on this topic with me?”