"Moonshine," cried Mr. Smith. "Negative proof in a case of this kind always is moonshine. Listen, my dear Miss Blake, for I am advising you now as a good friend. Never breathe a word of this matter to living soul. You don't know what the consequences to yourself might be."
"Consequences to myself!"
"To yourself, of course: there's no one else in question--at least in my mind. You might be sued for libel, and get sentenced to pay heavy damages and to a term of imprisonment besides. For goodness sake, be cautious! Remember Jane Shore! She had to stand in the pillory in a white sheet in the face and eyes of a gaping multitude, a lighted taper in her hand."
"Jane Shore!" cried Miss Blake, who at the above suggestion had begun to go as pale as she could well go. "Jane Shore! But that was not for libel. It was for--for--"
Miss Blake broke down.
"Shoreditch is named after her, you know," put in Mr. Smith. "Poor thing! she was very lovely: raven hair and eyes of a violet blue, say the old chronicles. Keep your own counsel, young lady, implicitly--and be silent for your own sake."
Miss Blake said good morning, and walked away. The prospect suggested to her, as to the fine and imprisonment, looked anything but a pleasant one. She resolved henceforth to be silent; to Mrs. Cleeve and to all else: and, under the influence of this new and disagreeable suggestion, she wished to her heart she had never opened her lips to Lady Andinnian.
"Meddlesome tabby cat," aspirated the gallant Mr. Smith. "She might play up Old Beans with her tongue. Women are the very deuce for being ill-natured to one another."