“You are very kind, Aunt Letitia,” said the young man, somewhat sullenly, at the end thereof, “but I believe I am capable of choosing myself a wife.”
“So you are going to marry Jilian Hardacre, eh?”
“Pooh, boy! haven’t I eyes in my head? So she has caught you, has she, the minx? Yet I must confess, nephew, that you do not seem ravished at the thought of embracing such a bride.”
Richard drew his knees up and fidgeted in his chair.
“Nothing of a serious nature has passed between us,” he said, awkwardly.
“Nothing serious, eh? And what do you call ‘serious,’ mon cher? Oglings and letters, gloves, flowers, whisperings in window-seats! Egad, nephew, you will have that gambling oaf of a Lot to deal with. They are mad to marry Jilian, and they want money.”
The old lady was quite flushed and eloquent, while Richard’s brown face expressed surprise. He was innocent of worldly guile, nor had he scented such matrimonial subtleties in the Hardacre mansion.
“Sir Peter has been very kind to me,” he said.
“Noble old gentleman! And he has never been for pushing Miss Jilian into your arms, eh? No, I warrant you, the wench is spry and buxom enough herself. You are not a bad-looking lad, Richard, and you have money.”
“I do not understand you, aunt,” he said.
“Nephew Dick, you are a bigger fool than I thought you were. Come, lad, blab to me; have you offered yourself to the fair Jilian?”
Richard blushed, rather prettily for a man, and shook his head.
“It has not gone as far as that,” he confessed.
“Well, nephew,” she said, brusquely, “are you in love with the lady?”
Aunt Letitia sniffed, and flicked her fan.
“Dear little love-bird,” she rasped, ironically; “let me warn you, Richard, before it is too late, that unless this pretty romance is locked in the lumber-room you will have that bully of a Lot raging round here about his sister’s honor.”
Richard straightened up stiffly in his chair and stared at his aunt in melancholy astonishment.
“I have done nothing to compromise Miss Jilian,” he said.
“Dear lad, how innocent you are! Your virginity is better than a sermon. A pity Miss Jilian Hardacre cannot say the same about her sweet person. Well, Richard, if you take an old woman’s advice, you will break with the lady, delicately, gently, mind you. Miss Jilian is a tender young thing, and must be handled with discretion.”