These
two, then, had long ere this found each other mighty agreeable. The
woman saw the man's vanity, and flattered it. The man the woman's, and
flattered it. Neither saw--am I to say?--his own or her own, or what?
Hang language!!! In short, they had long ago oiled one another's
asperities, and their intercourse was smooth and frequent: they were
always chatting together--strewing flowers of speech over their mines
and countermines.
Mr. Fountain, then, who, in virtue of his sex, had the less patience,
broke ground.
"My dear Mrs. Bazalgette, I would not have missed this visit for a
thousand pounds. Certainly there is nothing like contact for rubbing
off prejudices. I little thought, when I first came here, the
principal attraction of the place would prove to be my fair hostess."
"I know you were prejudiced, my dear Mr. Fountain. I can't say I ever
had any against you, but certainly I did not know half your good
qualities. However, your courtesy to me when I invaded you at Font
Abbey prepared me for your real character; and now this visit, I
trust, makes us friends."
"Ah! my dear Mrs. Bazalgette, one thing only is wanting to make you my
benefactor as well as friend--if I could only persuade you to withdraw
your powerful opposition to a poor old fellow's dream."
"What poor old fellow?"
"Me."
"You? why, you are not so very old. You are not above fifty."
"Ah! fair lady, you must not evade me. Come, can nothing soften you?"
"I don't know what you mean, Mr.
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