“What is the name of the lady?”
“Oh! You ask the name of the lady. And I too. What is it? I have heard two or three names.”
“Then you have heard villanies.”
“Denham, Jenny Denham, Miss Jenny Denham,” said Palmet, rejoiced at the opportunity of trumpeting her name so that she should not fail to hear it.
“I stake my reputation I have heard her called Shrapnel—Miss Shrapnel,” said Cecil.
The doctor glanced hastily from one to the other of his visitors. “The young lady is my ward; I am her guardian,” he said.
Cecil pursed his mouth. “I have heard her called your niece.”
“Niece—ward; she is a lady by birth and education, in manners, accomplishments, and character; and she is under my protection,” cried Dr. Shrapnel.
Cecil bowed. “So you are for gentle birth? I forgot you are for morality too, and for praying; exactly; I recollect. But now let me tell you, entirely with the object of conciliation, my particular desire is to see the young lady, in your presence of course, and endeavour to persuade her, as I have very little doubt I shall do, assuming that you give me fair play, to exercise her influence, on this occasion contrary to yours, and save my cousin Captain Beauchamp from a fresh misunderstanding with his uncle Mr. Romfrey. Now, sir; now, there!”
“You will not see Miss Denham with my sanction ever,” said Dr. Shrapnel.