“Mama!” whispered her son, anguished. “Recollect, I beg of you! A stranger! No proof! The greatest discretion!”
“I am quite distracted!” said Mrs Griffin, shedding tears.
This had the effect of driving the landlord from the room, and of flustering Mr Griffin. Between trying to pacify his parent, and excusing such odd behaviour to the elegant stranger, he became hotter than ever, and floundered in a morass of broken phrases. The look of astonishment on Sir Richard’s face, the pained lift of his brows, quite discomposed him, and he ended by saying: “The truth is my mother is sadly overwrought!”
“My confidence has been betrayed!” interpolated Mrs Griffin, raising her face from her damp handkerchief.
“Yes, Mama: precisely so! Her confidence has been betrayed, sir, by—by the shocking conduct of my cousin, who has—”
“I have nourished a viper in my bosom!” said Mrs Griffin.
“Just so, Mama. She has nourished—at least, not quite that, perhaps, but it is very bad, very upsetting to a lady of delicate sensibility!”
“All my life,” declaimed Mrs Griffin, “I have been surrounded by ingratitude!”
“Mama, you cannot be surrounded by—and in any case, you know it is not so! Do, pray, calm yourself! I shall claim your indulgence, sir. The circumstances are so peculiar, and my cousin’s behaviour has exerted so strong an effect upon my poor mother that—in short—”
“It is the impropriety of it which is worse than anything!” said Mrs Griffin.