"Ah;—yes. I think we can understand that, my dear. Your father hasn't made himself exactly pleasant to the Marquis. Not that I say he's wrong. I think it was a pity, because everybody says that the little Lord Popenjoy will die. You were talking of me and my glories, but long before you are my age you will be much more glorious. You will make a charming Marchioness."
"I never think about it, Mrs. Jones; and I wish papa didn't. Why shouldn't the little boy live? I could be quite happy enough as I am if people would only be good to me and let me alone."
"Have I distressed you?" asked the old woman.
"Oh, dear no;—not you."
"You mean what happened at my house the other night?"
"I didn't mean anything particular, Mrs. Jones. But I do think that people sometimes are very ill-natured."
"I think, you know, that was Lord George's doing. He shouldn't have taken you off so suddenly. It wasn't your fault that the stupid man tripped. I suppose he doesn't like Captain De Baron?"
"Don't talk about it, Mrs. Jones."
"Only that I know the world so well that what I say might, perhaps, be of use. Of course I know that he has gone out of town."
"Yes, he has gone."