"Well," said he, modestly and yet critically, "she's not quite my
style. I'm rather afraid of three-deckers. But she seems a very
good-natured sort of woman."
"Good-natured! Is that all you say? I can tell you, in my time men
were nothing so particular when there were eight thousand a year going
a-begging."
"Well, well," said Mr. Roscorla with a smile, "it is a very good joke.
When she marries, she'll marry a younger man than I am."
"Don't you be mistaken--don't you be mistaken!" the old general cried.
"You've made an impression--I'll swear you have; and I told her
ladyship you would."
"And what did Lady Weekes say?"
"Gad, sir! she said it would be a deuced good thing for both of you."
"She is very kind," said Mr. Roscorla, pleased at the notion of having
such a prize within reach, and yet not pleased that Lady Weekes should
have fancied this the sort of woman he would care to marry.
They went to Brighton, and a very pleasant time of it they had at the
big noisy hotel. The weather was delightful. Mrs. Seton-Willoughby was
excessively fond of riding: forenoon and afternoon they had their
excursions, with the pleasant little dinner of the evening to follow.
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