"Do!"
"No, this place is confoundedly public: I should put you to shame. By the by, Charles, that chit whose name I never can remember - the heiress whom your sister-in-law meant you to marry - you know whom I mean?"
"I do, but it's nonsense that Judith intended her for me."
"Oh no, I'm sure it's not! But it doesn't signify, only that I thought you would like to know that I rather fancy George to be a little epris in that direction."
"I hope he will not give her a heartache!"
"I expect he will, however. The odd thing is that she is not at all the sort of young woman he had been in the habit of deceiving." She added thoughtfully: "One comfort is that he is more likely to make a fool of her than she of him."
"Really, Bab!" he protested.
"Now, don't be shocked! It would never do for George to marry her. He won't, of course. He depends too much upon my grandfather, and wouldn't dare. She may be perfectly ladylike, but her connection with that horrid little Cit of an uncle makes her quite Ineligible. My grandfather was himself held to have married beneath him, but that does not make him Indulgent towards any mesalliance we might wish to make! He is pleased, by the way, with my engagement. I have had letters from him and my grandmother by today's post. You never told me you had written to him, Charles!"
"Of course I wrote to him. Have we his blessing?"
"Decidedly! You are unexceptionable. He did not suppose me to have so much good sense. My grandmother, who is quite the most delightful creature imaginable, writes that she is in doubt of her felicitations being still acceptable by the time they reach me. You observe, Charles, you have broken all records!" She gathered up the reins, and signed to her tiger to jump up behind. "There seems to be nothing to stay for: I shall go. Who is invited to this dinner at Uxbridge's?"