Debt, Imprisonment for -- Fiction; London (England) -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
"Yes, Sir Miles," I replied; "I think you are a very lusty fellow, and,
in a wrestling-bout, I should think few could stand against you. But as
a husband, for the reasons I have stated, I say--No!"
"Take the four hundred, Kitty, and make me happy. I love thee, my girl,
with all my heart."
"Sir Miles, I cannot do it honestly. Perhaps I wish I could."
"You won't?" He looked me full in the face. "I see you won't. You have
such a telltale, straightforward face, Kitty, that it proclaims the
truth always. I believe you are truth itself. They pulled you out of
a well, down in your country place, in a bucket, and then went about
saying you had been born."
"Thank you, Sir Miles."
"Am I, therefore, to go hang myself in my garters, or yours, if you
will give them to me?"
"If you do, I shall be the first to run and cut you down."
"Sweet it were," he murmured, "to be even cut down by your fair hand.
If one was sure that you would come in time----"
"You will be reasonable, dear sir, and you will neither say nor do
anything silly."
"I do not suppose I shall pine away in despair; nor shall I hang my
head; nor shall I go about saying that there are as good fish in the
sea as ever came out of it, because, when we fished you, we fished
the best. And I swear. Kitty"--here he did swear after men's profane
way, but he needed not to have sworn so loudly or so long--"that truly,
sweet Kitty, thou art the fairest, the loveliest, and the best fish
that ever came out of any sea--a bewitching mermaid! I wish thee a good
husband.
"On Stella's lap he laid his head,
And, looking in her eyes,
He cried, 'Remember, when I'm dead,
That I deserved the prize.'"
"Thank you, Sir Miles. A shorter and a less profane oath would surely
have better graced the subject."
"It cannot be graced too much," he said, as if to swear lustily was to
confer honour upon the woman he thought to love. "For your sake, Kitty,
I would ever forswear punch, tobacco, and strong waters; drink nothing
but October; and never get drunk save on Saturday nights: for your sake
would I go live in the country among the cocks and the hens, the ducks
and the pigs; for you would I go religiously to church every Sunday
at forenoon, and expect the parson for the beef and pudding after the
sermon; for your sake would I gamble no more, save once in a way when
quarter-day brought in the rents."
"That would be a mighty reformation indeed, Sir Miles."
"Now, however, since you will not have me, I shall play with four
hundred a year out of the six. But I will be careful, all the same: I
shall punt low, and never lose more than a guinea a night."
Thus I was rid of my second suitor. Sir Miles ceased to attend the
count of followers who attended on the Terrace, but sat all day in the
card-room, playing. From time to time he met and saluted me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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