"What position?"
"That of champion of beauty in distress."
"Position! I declare I don't follow you, my lord."
"My dear Alsager, surely the East has not had the effect of rendering obtuse one of the keenest of men. Don't you recollect our talk the other night?"
"Perfectly."
"When I then expressed my opinion that Lady Mitford would have to go through the usual amount of danger, of course I meant moral, not actual, peril. However, the actual seems to have come first."
"Ye-es. A smashed carriage and plunging horses may, I suppose, be looked upon as actual danger."
"Ah, she'll have worse things than those to contend against and encounter. You were lucky enough to save her from a fractured skull; I suppose we shall see you doing the 'sweet-little-cherub' business, and watching over her generally, henceforth."
"You seem to forget that Lady Mitford has a husband, Lord Dollamore."
"Not for an instant, my good fellow. But so has--well, Mrs. Hammond--and so have lots of women; but then the husbands are generally engaged in taking care of somebody else. Well, well, to think that you should become a sheep-dog,--you whose whole early life was spent in worrying the lambs!"