“Crotchet?”
“Yes, dear—crotchet.”
“I am speaking in all seriousness to you, my son. George, your behaviour to Beatrice Lambent is not correct.”
“My dear mother,” said the young man firmly, “do you mean to tell me that you honestly believe Beatrice Lambent cares for me?”
“Most assuredly, George.”
“Poor lass, then! That’s all I can say.”
“Why, George, have you not led her on by your attentions for these many months past?”
“Certainly not! I have been as civil and attentive to her as I have been to other ladies—that is all. What nonsense! Really, mother, it is absurd.”
“It is not absurd, George, but a very serious matter.”
“Well, serious enough, of course, for I should be sorry if Miss Lambent suffered under a misunderstanding.”