Miles held his aunt's arm tightly within his, and he stooped and looked into her face.
"And does the fact that Pen is married explain or excuse her deplorable taste in men? Which does it do, Aunt Mary? Speak up, now."
Lady Mary laughed. "I'm not here to defend Pen; I'm here to get your answer as to whether you think it's ... quite fair to make that little Miss Morton conspicuous by running after her and making her the talk of the entire county, for that's what you're doing."
"What good old Pen has been telling you I'm doing, I suppose."
"I had my own doubts about it without any help from Pen ... but she said Alec Pottinger had been talking...."
"Pottinger's an ass."
"He doesn't talk much, anyhow, Miles, and she felt if he said anything...."
"Look here, Aunt Mary, how's a chap to go courting seriously if he doesn't run after a girl?... he can't work it from a distance ... not unless he's one of those poet chaps, and puts letters in hollow trees and so on. And you don't seem to have provided any hollow trees about here."
"Courting ... seriously!" Lady Mary repeated with real horror in her tones. "Oh, Miles, you can't mean that!"