It was like the momentary contest in the moist eye-lids of an April morning, 'Whether Bridget should laugh or cry.'
She snatch'd up a rolling-pin--'twas ten to one, she had laugh'd--She laid it down--she cried; and had one single tear of 'em but tasted of bitterness, full sorrowful would the corporal's heart have been that he had used the argument; but the corporal understood the sex, a quart major to a terce at least, better than my uncle Toby, and accordingly he assailed Mrs.
Bridget after this manner.
I know, Mrs. Bridget, said the corporal, giving her a most respectful kiss, that thou art good and modest by nature, and art withal so generous a girl in thyself, that, if I know thee rightly, thou would'st not wound an insect, much less the honour of so gallant and worthy a soul as my master, wast thou sure to be made a countess of--but thou hast been set on, and deluded, dear Bridget, as is often a woman's case, 'to please others more than themselves--'
Bridget's eyes poured down at the sensations the corporal excited.
--Tell me--tell me, then, my dear Bridget, continued the corporal, taking hold of her hand, which hung down dead by her side,--and giving a second kiss--whose suspicion has misled thee?
Bridget sobb'd a sob or two--then open'd her eyes--the corporal wiped 'em with the bottom of her apron--she then open'd her heart and told him all.
