“No, no; you are a good woman.”
“Not half so good as you are.”
“You don't know what you are saying.”
“Oh yes, I do.”
“Then I say no more; it is rude to contradict. Good-by, Lady Bassett.”
“Must you leave me so soon? Will you not visit us? May I not know the name of so good a friend?”
“Next week I shall be Mrs. Marsh.”
“And you will give me the great pleasure of having you at my house—you and your husband?”
The lady showed some agitation at this—an unusual thing for her. She faltered: “Some day, perhaps, if I make him as good a wife as I hope to. What a lady you are! Vulgar people are ashamed to be grateful; but you are a born lady. Good-by, before I make a fool of myself; and they are all coming this way, by the dogs' music.”
“Won't you kiss me, after bringing me this?”