This determination was scarcely made before his visitor arrived.  That gentleman, who, though full of sensibility and benevolence, was not a man of empty ceremony, immediately opened his business.  Mr. Hartley, drew himself up in his chair, and, with the dignity of a citizen of London, who thinks that the first character in the world, cried, “Well, sir, and who is this nephew of yours?  I think I never heard of him.”  “He is the son,” answered Mr. Moreland, “of lord Thomas Villiers.”  “Lord Thomas Villiers!  Then I suppose he is a great man.  And pray now, sir, if this great man has a mind that his son should marry my daughter, why does he not come and tell me so himself?” “Why in truth,” said the other, “lord Thomas Villiers has no mind.  But my nephew is his only son, and therefore cannot be deprived of the principal part of his estate after his death.  In the mean time, I will take care that he shall have an income perfectly equal to the fortune of Miss Hartley.”  “You will sir!  And so in the first place, this young spark would have me encourage him in disobedience, which is the greatest crime upon God’s earth, and in the second, he thinks that I, Bob Hartley, as I sit here, will marry my daughter into any family that is too proud to own us.”  “As to that, sir,” said Moreland, “you must judge for yourself.  The young gentleman is an unexceptionable match, and I, sir, whose fortune and character I flatter myself are not inferior to that of any gentleman in the county, shall always be proud to own and receive the young lady.”  “Why as to that, to be sure, you may be in the right for auft that I know.  But howsomdever, my daughter, do you see, is already engaged to lord Martin.”  “I should have thought,” replied Moreland, “that objection might have been stated in the first instance, without any reflexions upon the conduct and family of the young gentleman.  But are you sure that lord Martin is the man of your daughter’s choice?” “I cannot say that I ever axed her, for I do not see what that has to do with the matter.  Lord Martin, do you see, is a fine young man, and a fine fortune.  And Delia is my own daughter, and if she should boggle about having him, I would cut her off with a shilling.”  “Sir,” answered Moreland, with much indignation, “that is a conduct that would deserve to be execrated.  My nephew, without any sinister means, is master of your daughter’s affection; and lord Martin, I have authority to tell you, is her aversion.”  “Oh, ho! is it so.  Well then, sir, I will tell you what I shall do.  Your nephew shall never have my daughter, though she had but a rag to her tail.  And as for her affections and her aversion, I will lock her up, and keep her upon bread and water, till she knows, that she ought to have neither, before her own father has told her what is what.”  Mr. Moreland, all of whose nerves were irritated into a fever by so much vulgarity, and such brutal insensibility, could retain his seat no longer.  He started up, and regarding his entertainer with a look of ineffable indignation, flung the door in his face, and retreated to his chariot.