“Not to lecture you, Lucy,” she said at last.
“Well, to preach to me, or to talk to me, or to give me a lesson; to say something that shall drive me to put my back up against Lord Lufton?”
“To caution you, dearest. Had you heard what she said, you would hardly have felt angry with Lady Lufton.”
“Well, to caution me. It is such a pleasant thing for a girl to be cautioned against falling in love with a gentleman, especially when the gentleman is very rich, and a lord, and all that sort of thing!”
“Nobody for a moment attributes anything wrong to you, Lucy.”
“Anything wrong—no. I don’t know whether it would be anything wrong, even if I were to fall in love with him. I wonder whether they cautioned Griselda Grantly when she was here? I suppose when young lords go about, all the girls are cautioned as a matter of course. Why do they not label him ‘dangerous’?” And then again they were silent for a moment, as Mrs. Robarts did not feel that she had anything further to say on the matter.
“‘Poison’ should be the word with any one so fatal as Lord Lufton; and he ought to be made up of some particular colour, for fear he should be swallowed in mistake.”
“You will be safe, you see,” said Fanny, laughing, “as you have been specially cautioned as to this individual bottle.”
“Ah! but what’s the use of that after I have had so many doses? It is no good telling me about it now, when the mischief is done,—after I have been taking it for I don’t know how long. Dear! dear! dear! and I regarded it as a mere commonplace powder, good for the complexion. I wonder whether it’s too late, or whether there’s any antidote?”
Mrs. Robarts did not always quite understand her sister-in-law, and now she was a little at a loss. “I don’t think there’s much harm done yet on either side,” she said, cheerily.