"Oh yes!"
"And yet, I am sure, Charles Bentinck is worse than I am."
"In what way, pray?"
"Why, a worse head," said Sir William, touching his forehead, "and I don't pretend to be clever myself."
"Is that all? But I would not be so very demonstrative as to touch my forehead, if I were you."
"That Charles Bentinck," said he, half angry, "is the greatest fool in the world; and in Paris we always used to laugh at him."
"But," said I, "why did you suffer his lordship to be eternally at your house?"
"Why, dear me!" answered Abdy, peevishly, "I told him in a letter I did not like it and I thought it wrong, and he told me it was no such thing."
"And therefore," I remarked, "you suffered him to continue his visits as usual?"