"I heard the other day you had turned Methodist: Bessy Cust came in and said it. I am sorry I contradicted it," cried the provoking Adela.
"You cannot set the world at defiance."
"I don't mean to. As to Charley dancing attendance on me, or kissing my hand—what harm is there in it?"
"That may be according to one's own notion of 'harm.' Even the most trifling approach to flirting is entirely unseemly in a married woman."
"Are you quite a competent judge—not being married yourself?" rejoined Adela. "See here, Grace—if you never flirt more with any one than Charley flirts with me, you won't hurt."
"I am afraid he has learnt to love you, Adela."
"Then more silly, he, for his pains. Why, I am oceans of years older than Charley is. He ought to think of me as his grandmother."
"Can't you be serious, child? I want you to see the thing in its proper—or, rather, improper—light. When it comes to a man, other than your husband, kissing you, it is time——
"Who said Charley kissed me?" retorted Adela, in a blaze of anger. "He has never done such a thing—never dared to attempt it. I said he kissed my hand sometimes—and then it has generally had a glove upon it."
"Well, well, whatever the nonsense may be, you must give it up, Adela. There can be no objection on your part to doing so, as you say you do not care for Charles Cleveland."