That you permit me to do so, makes me a proud and a happy man. But you forget, my dear Mary, what I told you half an hour ago.
MARY.
What was it? I ought not to be so forgetful.
FREEMANTLE.
That the papers wanting to establish my right to the Shropshire estate, which my attorney has been searching for amongst our old family records, cannot be found. The letter I received from him this morning informs me, that he now despairs of finding them; and this being the case, I must despair of ever obtaining your brother's consent to our union.
MARY.
Despair is a strong expression.
FREEMANTLE.
But is it not a just one? I have not now the face, poor as I am, and poor as I shall probably remain, to propose myself as a match for you.
MARY.
Well then, Sir Robert, what makes you timid makes me bold. Have the constancy to wait till I am twenty-five: three years will bring this to pass; and then, if you still think me worth the having, and do not consider me as altogether
