"You don't understand things, talking such nonsense. Mr. Egerton is the Blue candidate, and the Blues are the Country Party; therefore how can he be a Lonnoner? An uncommon clever, well-grown, handsome young man, eh! and my young Lord's particular friend."
Mrs. Avenel sighed.
"What are you sighing and shaking your head for?"
"I was thinking of our poor, dear, dear Nora!"
"God bless her!" cried John, heartily.
There was a rustle under the boughs of the old hollow-hearted pollard- tree.
"Ha, ha! Hark! I said that so loud that I have startled the ravens!"
"How he did love her!" said Mrs. Avenel, thoughtfully. "I am sure he did; and no wonder, for she looks every inch a lady; and why should not she be my lady, after all?"
"He? Who? Oh, that foolish fancy of yours about my young Lord? A prudent woman like you!—stuff! I am glad my little beauty is gone to Lonnon, out of harm's way."
"John, John, John! No harm could ever come to my Nora. She 's too pure and too good, and has too proper a pride in her, to—"