That is to be certainly so, interrupted the lady?

It is, madam.

But what shall we say, my dear, resumed Sir Harry—­Don’t fly out again—­ As to the provision for my son?—­Two hundred a year—­What is two hundred a year——­

Why then let it be three, answered she.

I have a handsome and improvable estate, said I. I have no demands but those of reason upon me.  I would not offer a plea for his coming to England, (and I am sure he would not have come, if I had,) without his father’s consent:  in which, madam, he hoped for yours.  You shall not, sir, allow him either the two or three hundred a year.  See him with love, with indulgence (he will deserve both;) and think not of any thing else for my Beauchamp.

There is no bearing this, my dear, said Sir Harry; leaning upon his lady’s shoulder, as he sat, tears in his eyes—­My son is already, as I have heard, greatly obliged to this his true friend—­Do you, do you, madam, answer for me, and for yourself.

She was overcome:  yet pride had its share with generosity.  You are, said she, the Grandison I have heard of:  but I will not be under obligations to you—­not pecuniary ones, however.  No, Sir Harry!  Recall your son:  I will trust to your love:  do for him what you please:  let him be independent on this insolent man; [She said this with a smile, that made it obliging;] and if we are to be visitors, friends, neighbours, let it be on an equal foot, and let him have nothing to reproach us with.

I was agreeably surprised at this emanation (shall I call it?) of goodness:  she is really not a bad woman, but a perverse one; in short, one of those whose passions, when rightly touched, are liable to sudden and surprising turns.

Generous, charming Lady Beauchamp! said I:  now are you the woman, whom I have so often heard praised for many good qualities:  now will the portrait be a just one!

Sir Harry was in raptures; but had like to have spoiled all, by making me a compliment on the force of example.

Be this, said I, the result—­Mr. Beauchamp comes over.  He will be pleased with whatever you do:  at your feet, madam, he shall acknowledge your favour:  My home shall be his, if you permit it:  On me, he shall confer obligations; from you, he shall receive them.  If any considerations of family prudence (there are such, and very just ones) restrain you from allowing him, at present, what your generosity would wish to do—­

Lady Beauchamp’s colour was heightened:  She interrupted me—­We are not, Sir Charles, so scanty in our fortune—­

Well, my dear Lady Beauchamp, be all that as you will:  not one retrospect of the past—­

Yes, Sir Charles, but there shall:  his allowance has been lessened for some years; not from considerations of family prudence—­But—­Well, ’tis all at an end, proceeded she—­When the young man returns, you, Sir Harry, for my sake, and for the sake of this strange unaccountable creature, shall pay him the whole arrear.