"Tell me," said Mrs Dale gravely, "do you think, love, that you could put off the end of the world a little longer, or must we make haste in order to be in time?"
"How wicked you are!" said Miss Jemima, turning aside.
Some few minutes afterwards, Mrs Dale contrived it so that Dr Riccabocca and herself were in a farther corner of the room, looking at a picture said to be by Wouvermans.
Mrs Dale.—"She is very amiable, Jemima, is she not?"
Riccabocca.—"Exceedingly so. Very fine battle-piece!"
Mrs Dale.—"So kind-hearted."
Riccabocca.—"All ladies are. How naturally that warrior makes his desperate cut at the runaway!"
Mrs Dale.—"She is not what is called regularly handsome, but she has something very winning."
Riccabocca, with a smile.—"So winning, that it is strange she is not won. That gray mare in the foreground stands out very boldly!"
Mrs Dale, distrusting the smile of Riccabocca, and throwing in a more effective grape charge.—"Not won yet; and it is strange!—she will have a very pretty fortune."