“I said not so, madam,” cried Goldsmith, shaking-his head. “As amusing—-amusing——”
“As Ranelagh. Those were your exact words, Doctor, I assure you,” protested Little Comedy. “Were they not, Mary?”
“Oh, undoubtedly those were his words—only he did not utter them,” replied the Jessamy Bride.
“There, now, you will not surely deny your words in the face of two such witnesses!” said Mrs. Bunbury.
“I could deny nothing to two such faces,” said Goldsmith, “even though one of the faces is that of a little dunce who could talk of Marius weeping over the Pantheon.”
“And why should not he weep over the Pantheon if he saw good cause for it?” she inquired, with her chin in the air.
“Ah, why not indeed? Only he was never within reach of it, my dear,” said Goldsmith.
“Psha! I daresay Marius was no better than he need be,” cried the young lady.
“Few men are even so good as it is necessary for them to be,” said Oliver.
“That depends upon their own views as to the need of being good,” remarked Mary.