"Oh, merciful heavens, what gossip mean you?"
"My lady, have a sip of volatile, do! Oh, my mistress would be like to kill me if she knew what I've been saying! 'Poor Julia,' she cried when she got the news. 'Poor Julia, my poor confiding Julia! Oh, the villain, the monster!'"
"Good God, and whom did she refer to?"
"Lud, madam, how can I tell? 'It shall not be!' cries my mistress, and down she sits and writes off to you, as if for bare life."
Lady Standish, rising from her seat, rushed to the light, and with starting eyes and bristling hair began to read afresh her fond Kitty's missive.
"La, my lady," cried the guileless Lydia, "you're all of a shake! I'd never be that upset about Sir Jasper. Why, if your la'ship'll allow me to say so, all Bath knows how jealous he is of your la'ship; and, certain that shows a husband's affection."
"True," cried Julia, "that's true, girl!"
"And as for those who say, my lady, that some men are so artful that they put on a deal of jealousy to cover a deal of fickleness, I'd despise myself if I was to pay heed to such mean suspiciousness."
"My cloak!" cried Lady Standish. "Megrim, Susan!" She flew to the hall. "My cloak, let a post-chaise be ordered immediately!"
"If I may make so bold, my lady," said Lydia, retiring gracefully upon the conviction of a well-accomplished errand, "don't forget to take Lady Maria with you, if you can. The gentlemen have such a way of turning tables on us poor women—at least," said the damsel demurely, "so I've heard said. And 'tis a long lonely road, my lady!"