There was no doubt about Colonel Follitt’s admiration for the once Undesirable One. He talked to her at table, he brought her books from the library, he accidentally found himself in the way when she passed; and one day he announced his intention of going for a walk with her and his two daughters, as Lionel had done several times.
“That you shall not do!” said Lady Jane with severity.
“Why not, my dear?” asked her mild husband.
“It’s not decent,” answered Lady Jane with disgust. “I won’t have it!”
“Really!” cried the Colonel, with polite surprise. “If a man cannot walk out with his own daughters——”
“Not with Miss Scott. Thank goodness, I still have some authority! The idea of such a thing! Besides, it’s growing on you. When vice doesn’t disappear it always grows worse with old age.”
“Old age, indeed!” The Colonel was mildly indignant.
“Now, that Miss Kirk,” Lady Jane exclaimed, not heeding him, “at least she was pretty. No one ever denied that, I suppose. Well, that was some excuse; but it’s positively disgusting to see a man of sixty——”
“Fifty-five,” interrupted the Colonel.
“—of nearly fifty-six devoting himself to a miserable, dowdy little rat of a London governess, who came here with a blotchy face and a hump on one shoulder, and her hair drawn back like a skinned rabbit’s!”