“God bless me, Pelham,” said he, “how delighted I am to see you. Lady Harriett, here’ your old favourite, Mr. Pelham.”
Lady Harriet was all smiles and pleasure. “Give me your arm,” said she; “I must go and speak to Lady Babbleton—odious woman!”
“Do, my dear Lady Harriett,” said I, “explain to me what Lady Babbleton was?”
“Why—she was a milliner, and took in the late lord, who was an idiot.—Voila tout!”
“Perfectly satisfactory,” replied I.
“Or, short and sweet, as Lady Babbleton would say,” replied Lady Harriett, laughing.
“In antithesis to her daughters, who are long and sour.”
“Oh, you satirist!” said the affected Lady Harriett (who was only three removes better than the Cheltenham countess); “but tell me, how long have you been at Cheltenham?”
“About four hours and a half!”
“Then you don’t know any of the lions here?”