Do you mean to say you didn't write that letter ?" "Boy, I tell you, I've written nothing--I know nothing; you speak in riddles." "Well then, governor, if I do, I'll to guess 'em: I begin to see how it was all brought about--but they did it cleverly too, and were quite too many for me.

Only listen: that fellow Clements, ay, and Miss Maria too (artful minx, I know her), must have forged a letter as if from you to get poor fools, me and my mother, to see 'em spliced, while you were tooling to Yorkshire." "Impossible--ey?
what?
I'll--I'll--I'll--" "Now, governor, don't stand there doing nothing but denying all I say; only you go yourself, and ask my mother if she didn't see the letter--if they didn't marry upon it, and if that precious sister of mine doesn't richly deserve every thing she'll some day get from her affectionate, her excellent, her ill-used father ?" Iago's self, or his master, smooth-tongued Belial, could not have managed matters better.
The incredulous knight, scarcely able to discover how far it might not still be all a joke, especially after his Yorkshire expedition, rushed up to Lady Dillaway; on her usual sofa, quietly knitting, and thinking of her Maria's second day of happiness.
"So, ma'am--ey?
what?
is it true?
are they married?
is it true?
married--ey?
what ?" "Certainly, Thomas, they were only too glad, and I will add, so was I, to get your kind--" "Mine?
I give leave?
ey?
what?
Madam, we're cheated, fooled--I never wrote any letter." "Most astonishing; I saw it myself, Thomas, your own hand; and our dear John too." "Ay, ay--he sees through it all, and so do I now--ey?
what?
that precious pair of rogues forged it! Now, ma'am, what don't they deserve, I should like to know ?" It was quite a blow, and a very hard one, to the poor tranquil mother.
Could her dear Maria really have been so base, and that noble-looking Henry too?
how dreadfully deceived in them, if this proved true! And how could she think it false?
A letter contrived to expedite their marriage in the father's casual absence, which no one could have thought of writing but Sir Thomas himself, or the impatient lovers.

So poor Lady Dillaway could only fall a-crying very miserably; whereupon her husband more than half suspected her of being an accomplice in the despicable plot.
"Now then, ma'am, I'm determined: as they are married, the thing's at an end; we can't untie that knot--but, once tied, I've done with the girl; they may starve, for any help they'll get of me: and as for you, mum, give 'em money at your peril; stay, to make sure of it, Lady Dillaway, I shall stint you to whatever you choose to ask me for out of my own pocket; never draw another cheque on Jones's, do you hear?
ey?
what?
for your cheques shall not be honoured, ma'am.

And now, from this hour, you and I have only one child, John." "Oh, Thomas--Thomas! be merciful to poor Maria! indeed, she was deceived; she believed it all--poor Maria!" "Ma'am, never mention that woman again--ey?
what?
deceived?
Yes, she deceived you and me, and John, and all.

Wicked wretch! and all to marry a beggar! Well, ma'am, there's one comfort left; the fellow married her for money, and he's caught in his own trap; never a penny of mine shall either of them see.