I led him into the parlour, and presented him to the women, and them to him.  I thought it highly imported me (as they might still have some diffidences about our marriage, from my fair-one’s home-pushed questions on that head) to convince them entirely of the truth of all I had asserted.  And how could I do this better, than by dialoguing a little with him before them?

Dear Captain, I thought you long; for I have had a terrible conflict with my spouse.

Capt.  I am sorry that I am later than my intention—­my account with my banker—­[There’s a dog, Jack!] took me up longer time to adjust than I had foreseen [all the time pulling down and stroking his ruffles]:  for there was a small difference between us—­only twenty pounds, indeed, which I had taken no account of.

The rascal has not seen twenty pounds of his own these ten years.

Then had we between us the character of the Harlowe family; I railed against them all; the Captain taking his dear friend Mr. John Harlowe’s part; with a Not so fast!—­not so fast, young gentleman!—­and the like free assumptions.

He accounted for their animosity by my defiances:  no good family, having such a charming daughter, would care to be defied, instead of courted:  he must speak his mind:  never was a double-tongued man.—­He appealed to the ladies, if he were not right?

He got them on his side.

The correction I had given the brother, he told me, must have aggravated matters.

How valiant this made me look to the women!—­The sex love us mettled fellows at their hearts.

Be that as it would, I should never love any of the family but my spouse; and wanting nothing from them, I would not, but for her sake, have gone so far as I had gone towards a reconciliation.

This was very good of me; Mrs. Moore said.

Very good indeed; Miss Rawlins.

Good;—­It is more than good; it is very generous; said the widow.

Capt.  Why so it is, I must needs say:  for I am sensible that Mr. Lovelace has been rudely treated by them all—­more rudely, than it could have been imagined a man of his quality and spirit would have put up with.  But then, Sir, [turning to me,] I think you are amply rewarded in such a lady; and that you ought to forgive the father for the daughter’s sake.

Mrs. Moore.  Indeed so I think.

Miss R. So must every one think who has seen the lady.

Widow B. A fine lady, to be sure!  But she has a violent spirit; and some very odd humours too, by what I have heard.  The value of good husbands is not known till they are lost!

Her conscience then drew a sigh from her.

Lovel.  Nobody must reflect upon my angel!—­An angel she is—­some little blemishes, indeed, as to her over-hasty spirit, and as to her unforgiving temper.  But this she has from the Harlowes; instigated too by that Miss Howe.—­But her innumerable excellencies are all her own.