“Oh dear; oh dear!” sighed Mrs Dean in a whisper to her daughter, “if this is coming into society, and you are going on talking in that savage way, we had better stop at home. I expect you snubbed the Major in that orty way of yours, and he has gone after that chit of Denville’s.”
“Where? Has he mother?” cried Cora, in an excited whisper.
“Yes; he is bending over her and making big eyes at her. I say, he is a handsome man, Cory, and if I know anything, he’s regularly took with her.”
“Are you sure, mother?”
“Sure? Just as if I couldn’t tell in a moment. You might get him away from her if you liked, I dare say. Look at that.”
She drew back a little that her child might see where Rockley was speaking in a markedly deferential manner to Claire; and Cora’s colour went and came, and her bosom heaved in unison.
“Bless your ’art, Cory, I ain’t lived to my age without picking up a little. Why, since I’ve been sitting here to-night I’ve picked up no end, and if I was a scandalous old woman I could make any amount of mischief.”
Cora did not answer, for just then Lord Carboro’ came up.
“Let me take you down to have a jelly, Miss Dean,” he said.
Cora looked up at him and was about to refuse; but there was such a quiet, respectful look in the old man’s eyes that she took his arm.