“Oh, but I do mind! I mind a great deal, Maude.”
“You see, it was Kitty wanted me. She had to have a new clasp to the pearl necklace your mother left her; and she was sure you would like me to choose it, so I went with her. I thought we should certainly be home before you got back.”
“Well, never mind, then. Nothing suits me so much as to see Kitty suited. I hope you bought a clasp good enough for the necklace.”
“I did not forget that she was going with you to-morrow night.”
“But you are going too, Maude?”
“Nay, I am not. When I can shut my ears as easy as my eyes, I can afford to be less particular about the company I keep. I know beforehand what the women in that crowd will say about their own danger, and about the murmuring poor who won’t starve in peace, and I know that I would be sure to answer them with a little bit of plain truth.”
“And the truth is not always pleasant, eh, Maude?”
“In this case I’m sure it wouldn’t be pleasant. So, then, the outside of Richmoor House is the best side for me.”
“I must say I’m getting a bit tired myself of the Duke’s masterful way, and of his everlasting talk about the ‘noble memories of the past.’”
“Then tell him, John, that the noble hopes of the future are something better than the noble memories of the past. The country is in a bad condition as ever was. Something must be done, and done quickly.”