“Why are they all going out to Port Jackson?”
“I don’t know. How should I?”
“Oh! they might have told you in conversation.”
“I did not trouble myself about such things. Hang it all! Mrs Otway, how could I be so petty?”
“Is it not natural that a man should be anxious to know who and what are the relatives of the lady he thinks of as his future wife?”
“Oh, some sordid fellows would think of such things. I’m not going to marry her relations.”
“In some sort a man must,” said Mrs Otway coolly. “Look here,” cried the young officer, “why do you talk to me like this?”
“Hullo! what’s the matter?” cried Captain Otway, who had come up unobserved; “quarrelling?”
“No,” said Mrs Otway, “I am only giving Phil Eaton a little of the common-sense he seems to have been losing lately. Why do I talk to you like this, my dear Phil? I’ll tell you. Because the day before we sailed Lady Eaton came to me and said, ‘You are a woman of experience, Mrs Otway; keep an eye upon my boy, and don’t let him get entangled in any way.’”
“My mother said that to you?”