Then: "Oh, Mops, Mops, Mops!——" he had murmured sorrowfully.
Little parties were one thing, but his Mops quite another.
But her anger had stirred again. She had remembered her uncle's proposals.
"Did you hear what he said—Moone? No; you'd gone out. Listen——"
He had tugged unhappily at his moustache as she had told him, bringing out the words with vehemence and hate.
"Well, but, Mops——" he had demurred wistfully.
"What, are you going to tell me you think so too?"
"All right, Mops, all right, all right, old girl——"
"Much I care for him and his family name! He could bully mother into marrying people, but he can't bully me.... Sorry, Chaff, that was clumsy; we're pals at any rate. Uncle Gus and his Scarisbricks!"
Her exclamations of contempt had occupied the rest of the time to the station. Chaff had put her into her carriage.