Dr. Midleton, there's a
conspiracy."
"A what?"
"A conspiracy: that's right, I believe. You are acquainted with Mrs.
Fairfax. To make a long and a short of it, they say you are always
going there, more than you ought, leastways unless you mean to marry
her, and that she's only a dressmaker, and nobody knows where she comes
from, and they ain't open and free: they won't come and tell you
themselves; but you'll be turned out at the election the day after to-
morrow."
"But what do you say yourself?"
"Me, Dr. Midleton? Why, I've spoke up pretty plainly. I told Mrs. Cobb
it would be a good thing if you were married, provided you wouldn't be
trod upon as some people's husbands are, and I was pretty well sure you
never would be, and that you knew a lady when you saw her better than
most folk; and as for her being a dressmaker what's that got to do with
it?"
"You are too well acquainted with me, Mrs. Sweeting, to suppose I should
condescend to notice this contemptible stuff or alter my course to
please all Langborough. Why did you take the trouble to report it to
me?"
"Because, sir, I wouldn't for the world you should think I was mixed up
with them; and if my husband doesn't vote for you my name isn't
Sweeting.
Pages:
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255