“Yes, you are all loyal;--I will say that for you, though Albany is not exactly Bath, or New York, Westminster. I suppose you know, Littlepage, that the church upon the hill, yonder, which is called St. Peter's, though a very good church, and a very respectable church, with a very reputable congregation, is not exactly Westminster Abbey, or even St. James's?” “I believe I understand you, sir; and so Sir Harry proved obstinate?” “As the devil!--It took no less than three letters, the last of which was pretty bold, to get him round, which I did at last, and his consent, in due form, has been handed in to Herman Mordaunt. I contended, with some advantages in the affair, or I never should have prevailed. But, you will see how it was. Sir Harry is gouty and asthmatic both, and no great things of a life, at the best, and every acre he has on earth is entailed; just making the whole thing a question of time.” “All of which you communicated, of course, to Anneke and Herman Mordaunt?” “If I did I'll be hanged! No, no; Master Corny, I am not so green as that would imply. You provincials are as thin-skinned as _raisons de Fontainbleau_, and are not to be touched so rudely. I do not believe Anneke would marry the Duke of Norfolk himself, if the family raised the least scruple about receiving her.” “And would not Anneke be right, in acting under so respectable a feeling?” “Why, you know she would only marry the duke, and not his mother, and aunts, and uncles. I cannot see the necessity of a young woman's making herself uncomfortable on that account. But, we have not come to that yet for I would wish you to understand, Littlepage, that I am not accepted, No, no! justice to Anneke demands that I should say this much. She knows of Sir Harry's consent, however, and that is a good deal in my favour, you must allow. I suppose her great objection will be to quitting her father, who has no other child, and on him it _will_ bear a little hard; and, then, it is likely she will say something about a change of country, for you Americans are all great sticklers for living in your own region.” “I do not see how you can justly accuse us of that, since it is universally admitted among us that everything is better at home than it is in the colonies.” “I really think, Corny,” rejoined Bulstrode, smiling good-naturedly, “were you to pay the old island a visit, now, you yourself would confess that some things _are_.” “I to visit!--I am at a loss to imagine why I am named as one disposed to deny it. Had it been Guert Ten Eyck, now, or ever Dirck Follock, one might imagine such a thing,-but I, who come from English blood, and who have an English-born grandfather, at this moment, alive and well at Satanstoe, am not to be included among the disaffected to England.”