"Why, 'tis nigh on five years since I saw Harry! Has he changed? Lud! but he will deem me an old woman! Is he like to be in town for long, I wonder?—Dear me, Bob, look at the two ladies over behind that seat!—Gracious! what extraordinary coifs, to be sure! And cherry ribbons, too!... Tell me, Bob, where did you meet Harry Lovelace?"
The Colonel, who, far from attending to her monologue, had been sending amorous glances across to a palpably embarrassed girl, who hung on her papa's arm while that gentleman stopped to speak to a stout dowager, brought his gaze reluctantly back to his sister.
"What's that you say, Lavvy?"
"How provoking of you not to listen to me! I asked where you met Harold."
"Where I met him? Let me see—where did I meet him? Oh, I remember! At the Cocoa-Tree, a fortnight since."
"And he is altered?"
"Not in any way, dear sister. He is the same mad, reckless rake-hell as ever. And unmarried."
"How delightful! Oh, I shall be so glad to see him again!"
"You must present him to Richard," sneered the Colonel, "as an old flame."
"I must, indeed," she agreed, his sarcasm passing over her head. "Oh, I see him! Look! Coming across the grass!"