'My dear Rose,' Mrs. Shorne commenced, 'your conduct requires that I should really talk to you most seriously. You are probably not aware of what you are doing: Nobody likes ease and natural familiarity more than I do. I am persuaded it is nothing but your innocence. You are young to the world's ways, and perhaps a little too headstrong, and vain.'
'Conceited and wilful,' added Rose.
'If you like the words better. But I must say—I do not wish to trouble your father—you know he cannot bear worry—but I must say, that if you do not listen to me, he must be spoken to.'
'Why not Mama?'
'I should naturally select my brother first. No doubt you understand me.'
'Any distant allusion to Mr. Harrington?'
'Pertness will not avail you, Rose.'
'So you want me to do secretly what I am doing openly?'
'You must and shall remember you are a Jocelyn, Rose.'
'Only half, my dear aunt!'