“She has been rolling ever so long, you know, in a sea of troubles, and now, at last, she has fairly foundered.”
“How do you mean?”
“They have sold her diamonds,” said Mr. Longcluse. “Didn't you hear?”
“No! Really? Sold her diamonds? Good Heaven! Then there's nothing left of her but her teeth. I hope they won't sell them.”
“It is an awful misfortune,” said Mr. Longcluse.
“Misfortune! She's utterly ruined. It was her diamonds that people asked. I am really sorry. She was such fun; she was so fat, and such a fool, and said such delicious things, and dressed herself so like a macaw. Alas! I shall never see her more; and people thought her only use on earth was to carry about her diamonds. No one seemed to perceive what a delightful creature she was. What about Lady May Penrose? I have not seen her since I came back from Cowes, the day before yesterday, and we leave London together on Tuesday.”
“Lady May! Oh! she is to receive a very interesting communication, I believe. She is one name on a pretty long and very distinguished list, which Sir Richard Arden, I am told, has made out, and carries about with him in his pocket-book.”
“You're talking riddles; pray speak plainly.”
“Well, Lady May is one of several ladies who are to be honoured with a proposal.”
“And would you have me believe that Sir Richard Arden has really made such a fool of himself as to make out a list of eligible ladies whom he is about to ask to marry him, and that he has had the excellent good sense and taste to read this list to his acquaintance?”