“Oh, you poor dear innocent, you’ll soon know! Well, as I was saying, I’m not a very marketable article, and here you come and take all the wind out of my little sails.” “There’s no fear of that! You can’t understand the dread I’m in of all the strange grand folk. When I think of things I’m scared; and as to the servants, I declare they just paralyse me!” “How ridiculous! You must really learn to hold up your head and be self-confident.” “I never could. Now, there’s your mother; she’s a real lady; any one can see that with half an eye.” “Of course, mother comes of a good old family, and is proud; but she was only a parson’s daughter--second son--family living, you know?” “No, I know nothing. I’ve heard of a living family, never of a family living. I’m afraid her ladyship will mislike me.” “Oh no, she never mislikes any one; and don’t call her her ladyship, for mercy’s sake!” “No; and I’ll be very thankful to you if you’ll correct me when I’m wrong. Now, tell me, what my father likes?” “Peace, with a big P, and sport and books and pictures and curios. I am happy to add, he likes _me_.” “And your mother?” “Society, society, and again society--lots of nice boys, and smart married women without their husbands, married men without their wives. She adores bridge and cigarettes, motoring, and pretty clothes; she likes to give the best house-parties, and to feel that she is very popular. By-the-by, I wonder what Dudley will say to _you_?” “Dudley? Oh, yes, I remember--father’s cousin. Do you like him?” “Pretty well: he is decent enough. Mother adores him.” “Why? Sure she is no relation!” “No, if he were she might loathe him. She likes him because he is rich, and run after, and good-looking, and the next heir--and so deliciously casual and cool; and because”--here she took the pillow from beneath her head and thumped it vigorously--“she wishes him to marry”--a violent thump--“_me_!” “Well, and why not?” inquired Joseline, in her tranquil voice. “I see they do draw down matches over here, with all their laughing at us in Ireland.” “_Us_, in Ireland!”--throwing herself back. “You have no more to say to Ireland than the parrot or your terrier. By the way, why did you import him?” “I was lonesome like.” “I believe he has chased the housekeeper’s best cat; and that cat is a personage, I can assure you.” “I’m sorry; but he was always a terror for cats.” “What a funny expression!” “Well, when I’m too funny entirely, will you, for the love of goodness, give me a wink or a pinch. I know I just talk like the purest commonality--I’m not fit to be a lady.” “You can’t help yourself; you _are_ a lady.” “I’m better than I was, thanks be to Miss Usher; she made me read aloud to her every day. Now, do tell me, when are you going to be married to my cousin?” “Most probably never--though it would be a splendid match for me.” “Then why not give in to it?”