"A thousand."
"Why, what harm?"
"My dear Miss Tarlingford, if your first name were not Arabella,—alas, alas!—there would be none."
"Nonsense! now you are laughing at me. Come, you shall teach me billiards."
"It cannot be, Miss Tarlingford." (Low tragedy tones.)
"Why not?"
"Because your name is Arabella."
"Very well, Sir,—if you do not like my name, you need not repeat it."
"I adore it; it is not that. Forgive me."
"Then I will get my hat";—and her light footsteps tapped upon the stairs.