"Ye-es.... N-no ... not very. Pretty—of that sort!"
"What sort?"
"Well—very fond of horses."
"So am I—the darlings!"
"Yes—but a girl may be very fond of horses, and yet not marry a ... Don't put milk in—only cream...."
"Marry a what?"
"Marry her riding-master." Her ladyship softened down Miss Tyrawley's groom to presentability. "But it was before you were born, child. However, no doubt it is the same, in principle."
"Hope so! Is that tea right?"
"The tea? Oh yes, the tea ... will do. No, I only saw Sir Hamilton. The son and daughter were away."
"Now, mamma, that is being unkind, and you know it. 'The son and daughter!' As if they were people!"