There was, in truth, no alternative. He
had promised that he would write such a letter, and all that had remained
to him was the power of cramming into it every available argument against
the marriage. This he had done and, as he thought, had done well. It was
impossible that she should desire to marry him after reading such a letter
as that!
Lizzie received it in her bedroom, where she breakfasted, and told of its
arrival to her friend Mrs. Carbuncle as soon as they met each other. "My
lord has come down from his high horse at last," she said, with the letter
in her hand.
"What--Lord Fawn?"
"Yes; Lord Fawn. What other lord? There is no other lord for me. He is my
lord, my peer of Parliament, my Cabinet minister, my right honourable, my
member of the Government--my young man too, as the maid-servants call
them."
"What does he say?"
"Say--what should he say--just that he has behaved very badly, and that he
hopes I shall forgive him."
"Not quite that; does he?"
"That's what it all means. Of course there is ever so much of it--pages of
it. It wouldn't be Lord Fawn if he didn't spin it all out, like an act of
Parliament, with whereas and whereis and whereof.
Pages:
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