"What more can we do, mama? Sir James Ramsden has offered marriage, and Captain Golightly; and Mr. Lennox has asked Elizabeth, and Mr. Lepel--" "What signifies all that?" cries Mrs. Gunning. "Don't let them slip. They'll serve for the future perhaps, if all fails. Elizabeth, I command you on your duty that you please Mr. Lepel, though not more than sufficient to content him. If we can't better him--But, Maria, what said my Lord Coventry to you at Lady Lowther's ball? I saw him very earnest."
"Nothing that mightn't be in the news-prints, mama. His breed of black shorthorns filled his thought and tongue. I protest I loathed the man's folly. 'Tis an insipid creature when all's said."
"No man with a coronet is insipid. He is grave and reserved, and I would he had been Elizabeth's admirer rather than yours, for they could have sat silent in a corner together. But what of the Duke, child? My hopes are sadly sunk."
Elizabeth flamed in a blush, less beautiful than painful. A sore heart was behind it. She replied not. Mrs. Gunning frowned.
"Well, girls, you're easy enough, but so am not I. Now therefore listen while I speak my mind."
'Tis needless to be particular in recording the lady's speech, which was much to the point in dealing with their needs and stratagems. She spoke for many minutes and at the end tears of shame and anger were in Maria's lovely eyes. If Elizabeth wept,'twas behind a sheltering hand.
"What signifies grumbling?" finishes Mrs Gunning. "'Tis as plain as the nose on your face. Elizabeth's is the best chance, and if she makes her match my Lord Coventry will kiss your slipper, Maria. The Duchess's sister can marry where she will."
'Twas vain to interrupt. Mrs Gunning sailed on, maternal, imperative, and took no heed. It would be impertinence to intrude on the talk that followed, and the plan laid for the entrapping of his Grace, of whom it may be said that he could protect himself against even the assaults of beauty better than Mrs Gunning supposed. But Elizabeth, borne down by two to her one, fought a losing game.
"I hate the man," she cried with spirit, and knew 'twas false as she said it. "I'd sooner sweep a crossing--"
Mrs Gunning smiled contemptuous.