"A pretty modest request upon my word," he indignantly
exclaimed as they walked away. "To want to nail me
to a card-table for the next two hours with herself and
Dr. Grant, who are always quarrelling, and that poking
old woman, who knows no more of whist than of algebra.
I wish my good aunt would be a little less busy! And to ask
me in such a way too! without ceremony, before them all,
so as to leave me no possibility of refusing. _That_ is
what I dislike most particularly. It raises my spleen
more than anything, to have the pretence of being asked,
of being given a choice, and at the same time addressed
in such a way as to oblige one to do the very thing,
whatever it be! If I had not luckily thought of standing
up with you I could not have got out of it. It is a great
deal too bad. But when my aunt has got a fancy in her head,
nothing can stop her."
CHAPTER XIII
The Honourable John Yates, this new friend, had not much
to recommend him beyond habits of fashion and expense,
and being the younger son of a lord with a tolerable
independence; and Sir Thomas would probably have thought
his introduction at Mansfield by no means desirable.
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