Arabella

by Georgette Heyer

Indeed, I don’t suppose there is a better husband or father alive!

Arabella nodded, for it was no news to her that she, as the eldest of four sisters, was expected to marry advantageously. She knew it to be her duty to do so. ‘Mama, I will try not to disappoint you!’ she said earnestly.

moment’s reflection would have convinced Arabella that this was the merest irritation of nerves, but her besetting sin, as her Mama had frequently told her, was the impetuosity which led her into so many scrapes.

He might intrude into her meditations, but whenever she was aware of his having done so she was resolute in banishing his image.

accepting life as he found it.

hunting now in earnest, was by far too experienced a sportsman to pursue his quarry too closely.

‘It should be the business of people with interest and fortune to enquire into such things!’ she said suddenly. ‘No one seems to care a button in a great city like this!

He looked down into her anxious, pleading eyes, a most rueful twinkle in his own. ‘Yes, Miss Tallant,’ he said. ‘I would.’

and the shock of realising, for the first time, that there was no one she would rather marry than Mr Beaumaris.

If your sentiments should undergo a change, one word – one look! – would be sufficient to apprise me of it.’

‘My surroundings,’ said Mr Beaumaris, ‘make it impossible for me to do more than assure you that you have made me the happiest man in England, ma’am.’

but do me the justice to own that she deserves it for being such an adorable little fool!’