“I am the more obliged for your compliments, sir; and I wish you good morning,” said Georgiana, amiably, and, after another curtsey, performed with unexpected swiftness, she got away by the nearest door before her new admirer could summon an idea for another speech.
Thornby stared wistfully at the door by which she had left. Indeed he made a step or two toward it; but, thinking better, stopped and drew a ponderous sigh. A servant came into the hall from the forecourt, whereupon the Squire abruptly took his departure. As he rode mutely out of the courtyard, followed by Bartholomew, his countenance betokened thoughts quite other than those with which he had left Foxwell’s presence a minute or two earlier. When he had passed through the village, Thornby motioned his man to ride beside him, and began to converse upon Mr. Foxwell and his present habits. In the course of the talk, it came out, as Bartholomew had been informed by Caleb while waiting in the courtyard, that Foxwell and his guests were accustomed to make some excursion on horseback every day, leaving the niece at home. The consequence of this knowledge was that next day, soon after the party had sallied forth as usual, a servant came to Miss Foxwell in her own small parlour to say that Mr. Thornby waited upon her in the drawing-room.
Mystified, but desiring not to offend, she went to him immediately. He was sprucely dressed, beaming, and all deference. For two hours he sat and sustained the chief burden of a general conversation upon everything in the neighbourhood. While he was more moderate and indirect in his frequent compliments than he had been on the previous day, he maintained a steady gaze of admiration, no less overpowering. Georgiana, wearied to death, had finally to plead household duties in order to dislodge him.
The following day was Sunday, and Miss Foxwell, making her first appearance at the village church, found herself again the object of the Squire’s constant attention, as indeed of the whole congregation’s, although she divided the latter with the London ladies. That evening she was discussed at Thornby Hall by the cronies who happened to be sharing the Squire’s bachelor table; and such was the praise uttered by several gay dogs who considered themselves devilish good judges that Mr. Thornby was kept secretly alternating between elation and jealousy. It needed only this approval and covetousness on the part of others, to complete the Squire’s sense of the young lady’s surpassing excellence.