"Of course not. Who were you with, most of the time?"
For there still remained at New Helvetia a number of squires of dames, eminently available for germans, and verandah promenades, and sentimentalisings in the moonlight.
"I was with Mr. Lloyd, all the time." Her voice quavered as she anticipated the note of surprise, and reprehension, and dismay in Mrs. Laniston's rejoinder. It sounded instantly.
"Why, Lucia! That showman, Lloyd?"
"I could not very well avoid it—and I didn't want to avoid it," she said rather doggedly.
Mrs. Laniston had a monition of George Laniston's ultra particularity in social matters; then she had a saving recollection of the standing of Judge Lloyd.
"Oh, poor fellow! I suppose he wanted to boast a bit of his legacy. It seems he comes of good people on his father's side, and has been remembered in a codicil, or something."
"He did not mention the legacy, except that he did say as it would make his connections a matter of newspaper notoriety he did not mind speaking of them. He said he would not do this ordinarily, for in a man in his humble business it would seem boastful, and he declared that he was more proud of his mother, and her generosity, and her struggles, and her courage, and her life of sacrifice in the care of those dear to her, than of every Lloyd that ever stepped."
And the proud Miss Laniston burst into tears—not the first she had shed that night over the pathos of the ci-devant dancer's woes.
"Why, Lucia," Mrs. Laniston exclaimed, irritably, "I am surprised that you should be so weak."