"Miss Cassewary?"
"Well;—Miss Cassewary! A man might have a worse friend than Miss Cassewary;—and my father."
"I don't suppose Lord Grex cares a straw about me."
"Indeed he does,—a great many straws. And so do I. Do you think I don't care a straw about it?"
"I don't know why you should."
"Because it is my nature to be earnest. A girl comes out into the world so young that she becomes serious, and steady as it were, so much sooner than a man does."
"I always think that nobody is so full of chaff as you are, Lady Mab."
"I am not chaffing now in recommending you to go to work in the world like a man."
As she said this they were sitting on the same sofa, but with some space between them. When Miss Cassewary had left the room Lord Silverbridge was standing, but after a little he had fallen into the seat, at the extreme corner, and had gradually come a little nearer to her. Now in her energy she put out her hand, meaning perhaps to touch lightly the sleeve of his coat, meaning perhaps not quite to touch him at all. But as she did so he put out his hand and took hold of hers.
She drew it away, not seeming to allow it to remain in his grasp for a moment; but she did so, not angrily, or hurriedly, or with any flurry. She did it as though it were natural that he should take her hand and as natural that she should recover it.