“You may take it down, dear Becky,” said Elinor grandly. “You may save anything you like from the bonfire!”
“Oh, no, my love! If his lordship feels it were better to throw the things away, I would not think—”
“This,” said Elinor in a very lofty tone, “is my house, and you may tell his lordship that he has nothing to say in the matter!”
“Elinor, my love! Indeed, you let the liveliness of your mind betray you into saying what is not at all becoming!”
“Tell his lordship with your compliments,” corrected Carlyon. “You should always add your compliments to any message you wish to render excessively cutting.”
She cast him a withering glance and prepared to retreat in good order. To her surprise, he followed her out of the attic and downstairs, saying, “Your unwelcome visitor has put me in mind of something I should have spoken of before, Mrs. Cheviot. Shall we go into the parlor?”
“Now what horrid surprise do you mean to spring on me?” she asked suspiciously.
“On my honor, none at all! But it occurs to me that it will be proper for me, as my cousin’s executor, to advance you sufficient moneys to pay for all those items, I dare say a great many, which it may not be convenient to charge up.”
“No, pray do not! There can be not the least necessity!”
“On the contrary, you are not to be spending out of your own purse.”