"Don't talk about it," shuddered little Lady Richard. "She can't care for him, she can't, you know."
"Certainly not, in the sentimental sense that you women attach to that very weak form of expression."
"And I'm sure there's nothing else to tempt her."
"You'll be laying down what does and doesn't tempt me next."
"I've known her since she was a child."
"There's nothing that produces so many false judgments of people."
Lady Richard was far too prostrate to accept any challenge.
"You do hate it as much as I do, don't you?" she implored.
"Quite," said he with restrained intensity. "But if you ask me, I think she'll do it."
A pause followed. "Fred Wentworth must have been waiting ever so long for me," Lady Richard murmured apologetically, though an apology to Morewood could not soothe Fred. Her thoughts were busy, and a resolve was forming in her mind. "I shall ask Mrs. Baxter to speak to her," she announced at last.