“She has got her ministers to tell her what to do,” said Mrs Carey, taking a pinch of snuff. “Poor innocent young creature, it often makes my heart ache to think how she is beset.”
“Over the left,” said Julia. “If the ministers try to come into her bed-chamber, she knows how to turn them to the right about.”
“And as for that,” said Harriet, “why are we not to interfere with politics as much as the swell ladies in London?”
“Don’t you remember, too, at the last election here,” said Caroline, “how the fine ladies from the Castle came and canvassed for Colonel Rosemary?”
“Ah!” said Julia, “I must say I wish the Colonel had beat that horrid Muddlefist. If we can’t have our own man, I am all for the Nobs against the Middle Class.”
“We’ll have our own man soon, I expect,” said Harriet. “If the people don’t work, how are the aristocracy to pay the police?”
“Only think!” said Widow Carey shaking her head. “Why, at your time of life, my dears, we never even heard of these things, much less talked of them.”
“I should think you didn’t, widow, and because why?” said Julia; “because there was no march of mind then. But we know the time of day now as well as any of them.”
“Lord, my dear,” said Mrs Carey; “what’s the use of all that? What we want is, good wages and plenty to do; and as for the rest, I don’t grudge the Queen her throne, nor the noblemen and gentlemen their good things. Live and let live say I.”
“Why, you are a regular oligarch, widow,” said Harriet.