"Ah! now you care no more about him. I might have known that your sympathy would cease directly you heard all. He went into raptures over this young milliner. She is beautiful as the day; she is graceful, accomplished, well-bred, well-mannered, a queen——"
"No doubt," said Angela, still frozen. "But really, Lord Jocelyn, as it is Mr. Goslett, the cabinet-maker, and not you, who is in love with this paragon, we may be spared her praises."
"And, which is more remarkable still, she won't have anything to say to him."
"That is indeed remarkable. But perhaps as she is the Queen of Dressmakers, she is looking for the King of Cabinet-Makers."
"No doubt," said Lord Jocelyn; "I think the music is coming to an end. However, Miss Messenger, one favor."
"A dozen, Lord Jocelyn, if I can grant them."
"He refuses to take any help from me; he lives on work paid for at the rate of tenpence an hour. If you will not send away—then—oh, then——"
"Quick, Lord Jocelyn, what is it?"
"Tax the resources of the brewery. Put on the odd twopence. It is the gift of the Samaritan—make it a shilling an hour."
"I will, Lord Jocelyn—hush! The music is just over, and I hope that the dressmaker will relent, and there will be a wedding in Stepney Church, and that they will be happy ever after. O brave and loyal lover! He gives up all, all"—she looked round the room, the room filled with guests, and her great eyes became limpid, and her voice fell to a murmur—"for love, for love. Do you think, Lord Jocelyn, that the dressmaker will continue to be obdurate? But perhaps she does not know, or cannot suspect, what he has thrown away—for her sake—happy dressmaker!"