"You?" Lady Greyswood exclaimed. "Why, you're grand!"
"I'm not so repulsive as I was when I was young perhaps, but that's not saying much."
"As when you were young!" laughed Lady Greyswood. "You sweet thing, you are young. I thought India dried people up."
"Oh, when you're a mummy to begin with!" Mrs. Knocker returned, with her trick of self-abasement. "Of course I've not been such a fool as to keep my children there. My girl is clever," she continued, "but she's afraid to show it. Therefore you may judge whether, with her unfortunate appearance, she's charming."
"She shall show it to me! You must let me do everything for her."
"Does that include finding her a husband? I should like her to show it to someone who'll marry her."
"I'll marry her!" said Lady Greyswood, who was handsomer than ever when she laughed and looked capable.
"What a blessing to meet you this way on the threshold of home! I give you notice that I shall cling to you. But that's what I meant; that's the thing the want of beauty makes so difficult—as if it were not difficult enough at the best."
"My dear child, one meets plenty of ugly women with husbands," Lady Greyswood argued, "and often with very nice ones."
"Yes, mine is very nice. There are men who don't mind one's face, for whom beauty isn't indispensable, but they are rare. I don't understand them. If I'd been a man about to marry I should have gone in for looks. However, the poor child will have something," Mrs. Knocker continued.