Soon the relation of my own love affair to that of my cousin Frances will be apparent.
My second day at Sundridge was spent with my uncle and my cousins, Frances remaining at home with us.

Adroit Sarah had talked with her father about the maid-of-honorship and had found an opportunity to tell me that while he was not yet persuaded, he was at least in a receptive mood, ready to listen to what I had to say.

In the evening Frances and Sarah went off to bed early, leaving Sir Richard to the mercies of myself and a flagon of wormwood wine which I had brought in as an ally from the Black Dog Tavern.
At first when I broached the subject of Frances becoming a maid of honor, he turned away from me, saying:-- "I fear, nephew, I fear! I confess that I did not expect the suggestion to come from you; you know the court even better than I do.

My dear boy, we might as well send the little girl to the devil at once." "Whitehall is no heaven, I admit," I answered.

"But you don't know Frances.