"What is it you want us to do now, Emmeline?"
"Well;—I was going to explain. I do think it a great pity that Tom and Ayala should not become man and wife. If ever any young man ever did love a girl I believe that he loves her."
"I think he does."
"It is dreadful. I never saw anything like it. He is just for all the world like those young men we read of who do all manner of horrible things for love,—smothering themselves and their young women with charcoal, or throwing them into the Regent's Canal. I am constantly afraid of something happening. It was all because of Ayala that he got into that terrible row at the police court,—and then we were afraid he was going to take to drink. He has given all that up now."
"I am very glad he has given drink up. That wouldn't do him any good."
"He is quite different now. The poor fellow hardly takes anything. He will sit all the afternoon smoking cigarettes and sipping tea. It is quite sad to see him. Then he comes and talks to me, and is always asking me to make Ayala have him."
"I don't think that anybody can ever make Ayala do anything."
"Not quite by talking to her. I dare say not. I did not mean to say a word to her about it just now."
"We can do nothing, I fear," said Mrs. Dosett.
"I was going to suggest something. But I wanted first to say a word or two about poor Lucy." They were just at present all "poor" to Lady Tringle,—Ayala, Lucy, Tom, and Gertrude. Even Augusta was poor because she was to be turned out of her bedroom.