He saw me warm and serious, and he changed his style immediately; he told me, he was sorry I should have such a thought of him: that he had never given me the least occasion for it, but had been as tender of my reputation, as he could be of his own; that he was sure our correspondence had been managed with so much address, that not one creature in the family had so much as a suspicion of it; that if he smiled when I told him my thoughts, it was at the assurance he lately received, that our understanding one another was not so much as guessed at, and that when he had told me how much reason he had to be easy, I should smile as he did, for he was very certain it would give me a full satisfaction.
“This is a mystery I cannot understand,” says I, “or how it should be to my satisfaction, that I am to be turned out of doors; for if our correspondence is not discovered, I know not what else I have done to change the faces of the whole family to me, who formerly used me with so much tenderness, as if I had been one of their own children.”
“Why, look you, child,” says he; “that they are uneasy about you, that is true, but that they have the least suspicion of the case as it is, and as it respects you and I, is so far from being true, that they suspect my brother Robin, and, in short, they are fully persuaded he makes love to you: nay, the fool has put it into their heads too himself, for he is continually bantering them about it, and making a jest of himself; I confess I think he is wrong to do so, because he cannot but see it vexes them, and makes them unkind to you; but it is a satisfaction to me, because of the assurance it gives me, that they do not suspect me in the least, and I hope this will be to your satisfaction too.”
“So it is,” says I, “one way, but this does not reach my case at all, nor is this the chief thing that troubles me, though I have been concerned about that too.”
“What is it then?” says he. With which, I fell into tears, and could say nothing to him at all. He strove to pacify me all he could, but began at last to be very pressing upon me, to tell what it was; at last I answered, that I thought I ought to tell him too, and that he had some right to know it, besides, that I wanted his direction in the case, for I was in such perplexity that I knew not what course to take, and then I related the whole affair to him; I told him, how imprudently his brother had managed himself, in making himself so public; for that if he had kept it a secret, I could but have denied him positively, without giving any reason for it, and he would in time have ceased his solicitations; but that he had the vanity, first, to depend upon it that I would not deny him, and then had taken the freedom to tell his design to the whole house.
I told him how far I had resisted him, and how sincere and honourable his offers were. “But,” says I, “my case will be doubly hard; for as they carry it ill to me now, because he desires to have me, they’ll carry it worse when they shall find I have denied him: and they will presently say, there’s something else in it, and that I am married already to some body else, or that I would never refuse a match so much above me as this was.”
This discourse surprised him indeed very much. He told me that it was a critical point indeed for me to manage, and he did not see which way I should get out of it; but he would consider of it, and let me know next time we met, what resolution he was come to about it; and in the mean time, desired I would not give my consent to his brother, nor yet give him a flat denial, but that I would hold him in suspense awhile.
I seemed to start at his saying, I should not give him my consent; I told him he knew very well, I had no consent to give; that he had engaged himself to marry me, and that I was thereby engaged to him; that he had all along told me, I was his wife, and I looked upon myself as effectually so, as if the ceremony had passed; and that it was from his own mouth that I did so, he having all along persuaded me to call myself his wife.
“Well, my dear,” says he, “don’t be concerned at that now; if I am not your husband, I’ll be as good as a husband to you, and do not let those things trouble you now, but let me look a little farther into this affair, and I shall be able to say more next time we meet.”
He pacified me as well as he could with this, but I found he was very thoughtful, and that though he was very kind to me, and kissed me a thousand times, and more I believe, and gave me money too, yet he offered no more all the while we were together, which was above two hours, and which I much wondered at, considering how it used to be, and what opportunity we had.
His brother did not come from London for five or six days, and it was two days before he got an opportunity to talk with him; but then getting him by himself, he talked very close to him about it; and the same evening found means (for we had a long conference together) to repeat all their discourse to me, which as near as I can remember, was to the purpose following:
He told him he heard strange news of him since he went, viz., that he had made love to Mrs. Betty.
“Well,” says his brother, a little angrily, “and what then? What has anybody to do with that?”
“Nay,” says his brother, “don’t be angry, Robin, I don’t pretend to have anything to do with it; but I find they do concern themselves about it, and that they have used the poor girl ill about it, which I should take as done to myself.”
“Who do you mean by they?” says Robin.
“I mean my mother and the girls,” says the elder brother.
“But hark ye,” says his brother, “are you in earnest, do you really love the girl?”
“Why then,” says Robin, “I will be free with you, I do love her above all the women in the world, and I will have her, let them say and do what they will, I believe the girl will not deny me.”
It stuck me to the heart when he told me this, for though it was most rational to think I would not deny him, yet I knew in my own conscience, I must, and I saw my ruin in my being obliged to do so; but I knew it was my business to talk otherwise then, so I interrupted him in his story thus:
“Ay!” said I, “does he think I cannot deny him? but he shall find I can deny him for all that.”
“Well, my dear,” says he, “but let me give you the whole story as it went on between us, and then say what you will.”
Then he went on and told me, that he replied thus:
“But, brother, you know she has nothing, and you may have several ladies with good fortunes.”
“‘Tis no matter for that,” said Robin, “I love the girl; and I will never please my pocket in marrying, and not please my fancy.”
“And so, my dear,” adds he, “there is no opposing him.”
“Yes, yes,” says I, “I can oppose him, I have learnt to say ‘No,’ now, though I had not learnt it before; if the best lord in the land offered me marriage now, I could very cheerfully say ‘No’ to him.”
“Well, but, my dear,” says he, “what can you say to him? You know, as you said before, he will ask you many questions about it, and all the house will wonder what the meaning of it should be.”
“Why,” says I, smiling, “I can stop all their mouths at one clap, by telling him and them too, that I am married already to his elder brother.”
He smiled a little too at the word, but I could see it startled him, and he could not hide the disorder it put him into: however, he returned, “Why though that may be true, in some sense, yet I suppose you are but in jest, when you talk of giving such an answer as that, it may not be convenient on many accounts.”
“No, no,” says I pleasantly, “I am not so fond of letting that secret come out, without your consent.”
“But