_Mrs. Ap Llymry_.—What have you done to poor dear Miss Susan? she is crying ready to break her heart.
_Mr. Chainmail_.—So help me the memory of Richard Coeur-de-Lion, I have not the most distant notion of what is the matter.
_Mrs. Ap Llymry_.—Oh, don’t tell me, sir; you must have ill-used her. I know how it is. You have been keeping company with her, as if you wanted to marry her; and now, all at once, you have been insulting her. I have seen such tricks more than once, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself.
_Mr. Chainmail_.—My dear madam, you wrong me utterly. I have none but the kindest feelings and the most honourable purposes towards her. She has been disturbed by something she has seen in this rascally paper.
_Mrs. Ap Llymry_.—Why, then, the best thing you can do is to go away, and come again tomorrow.
_Mr. Chainmail_.—Not I, indeed, madam. Out of this house I stir not, till I have seen the young lady, and obtained a full explanation.
_Mrs. Ap Llymry_.—I will tell Miss Susan what you say. Perhaps she will come down.
Mr. Chainmail sat with as much patience as he could command, running over the paper, from column to column. At length he lighted on an announcement of the approaching marriage of Lady Clarinda Bossnowl with Mr. Crotchet the younger. This explained the Captain’s discomposure, but the cause of Miss Susan’s was still to be sought: he could not know that it was one and the same.
Presently, the sound of the longed-for step was heard on the stairs; the young lady reappeared, and resumed her seat: her eyes showed that she had been weeping. The gentleman was now exceedingly puzzled how to begin, but the young lady relieved him by asking, with great simplicity: “What do you wish to have explained, sir?”
_Mr. Chainmail_.—I wish, if I may be permitted, to explain myself to you. Yet could I first wish to know what it was that disturbed you in this unlucky paper. Happy should I be if I could remove the cause of your inquietude!
_Miss Susannah_.—The cause is already removed. I saw something that excited painful recollections; nothing that I could now wish otherwise than as it is.
_Mr. Chainmail_.—Yet, may I ask why it is that I find one so accomplished living in this obscurity, and passing only by the name of Miss Susan?