Lady Wetheral's idea of Mrs. Pynsent's objection, and her short-lived but violent wrath, was exemplified in her conduct, when her son stated his engagement to Miss Wetheral, before his parents, the morning subsequent to his proposal. "Now hang me, Tom, if I would have believed such a thing from any body's lips but your own. So you have taken a bird out of the Wetheral nest, have you? You have been hunted down, neatly, Master Tom." "In this particular," replied her son, "I have made my own choice, and my father made no objection when--" "Who minds your father?" interrupted Mrs. Pynsent; "he never knows what he is about. He says 'yes' to every thing, and looks like a booby besides. Now you may marry the girl, and take Hatton if you please, but I'll be hanged if _I_ notice her! I'm serious, Master Tom." Tom Pynsent allowed the storm to spend its fury, and Mrs. Pynsent proceeded with increased ire. "To be gulled into marriage by that woman, Wetheral, drives me wild; but I never saw the man yet, who was not tricked into a trap by an artful woman, in spite of his teeth. Hang the whole set of them, and you too, for being a greater simpleton than your father!" "If I was a simpleton," observed Mr. Pynsent, quietly, "it was in marrying a masculine lady." "You be hanged, Bobby! you proposed to every girl you met. I was your fiftieth love, and you knew Sally Hancock and myself loved things out of the common way. I tell you what, Bobby--if Tom marries a Wetheral, you and I leave Shropshire. I won't stay in the country. If I meet her, I'll drive over her, Tom." Tom Pynsent understood his mother's disposition, and acted accordingly. He assured her of his sorrow in perceiving her dislike to the match; but, whatever disgust she might feel towards Lady Wetheral's conduct, the daughter was not involved in its folly. "When," continued he, "I proposed to Julia Wetheral, _she_ refused me at once." "You proposed to another of them!" cried Mrs. Pynsent, "and Bill Wycherly was right! You got huffed by one Wetheral, and then turned to another! Is this a true bill? Then I only just ask you, if simpleton is not too gentle an expression, Master Tommy, for such a poor thing as yourself? I only just ask you, if you don't think you are as nice an owl as ever was taken in by a set of manœuvring women? You'll hear enough of this, Tommy Pynsent! You and my Lord Ennismore are a couple of tight boys to be gulled by my lady. Here, make way for me--that I may go and tell my sister Hancock what a nice lad Master Pynsent has turned out. Never expect me to go near Wetheral, Bobby. I would sooner visit old Nick." Mrs. Pynsent flung out of the room, with an air of offended majesty. "Let your mother alone, Tom," said Mr. Pynsent, as the door closed upon his indignant lady. "Let her alone, and she won't long refuse her consent. When she has unburthened her mind to Sally Hancock, and fizzed a little, all will be right again."