“Oh you needn’t get excited, Mortimer. It has not really ‘gone’ anywhere. It has hardly begun. In fact I have not the least authority for saying that she cares for him at all. I think she does a little, though. I think she does. But one never can tell. I can, however, give you my word that he cares for her. And that is what we were talking about, weren’t we?”
“I shall pack him off to my office in London,” said Mr. Romer.
“He wouldn’t go, my dear. I tell you he wouldn’t go.”
“But he can’t live on nothing.”
“He can. He will. Sooner than leave Nevilton Maurice would eat grass. He would become lay-reader or something. He would sponge on Mrs. Seldom.”
“Well, then he shall walk to Yeoborough and back every day. That will cool his blood for him.”
“That will do him a great deal of good, dear; a great deal of good. Auntie always used to say that Maurice ought to take more exercise.”
“Lickwit will exercise him! Make no mistake about that.”
“How you do look round you, dear, in all these things! How impossible it is for anyone to fool you, Mortimer!”