'She must be a good gal, my lady. She couldn't have got it from t' other side. Got it from you. Not that you--' 'No,' said Lady Jocelyn, apprehending him. 'I'm afraid I have no Republican virtues. I 'm afraid I should have rejected the pill. Don't be angry with me,' for Old Tom looked sour again; 'I like birth and position, and worldly advantages, and, notwithstanding Rose's pledge of the instrument she calls her heart, and in spite of your offer, I shall, I tell you honestly, counsel her to have nothing to do with--' 'Anything less than lords,' Old Tom struck in. 'Very well. Are you going to lock her up, my lady?' 'No. Nor shall I whip her with rods.' 'Leave her free to her choice?' 'She will have my advice. That I shall give her. And I shall take care that before she makes a step she shall know exactly what it leads to. Her father, of course, will exercise his judgement.' (Lady Jocelyn said this to uphold the honour of Sir Franks, knowing at the same time perfectly well that he would be wheedled by Rose.) 'I confess I like this Mr. Harrington. But it's a great misfortune for him to have had a notorious father. A tailor should certainly avoid fame, and this young man will have to carry his father on his back. He 'll never throw the great Mel off.' Tom Cogglesby listened, and was really astonished at her ladyship's calm reception of his proposal. 'Shameful of him! shameful!' he muttered perversely: for it would have made him desolate to have had to change his opinion of her ladyship after cherishing it, and consoling himself with it, five-and-twenty years. Fearing the approach of softness, he prepared to take his leave. 'Now--your servant, my lady. I stick to my word, mind: and if your people here are willing, I--I 've got a candidate up for Fall'field-- I'll knock him down, and you shall sneak in your Tory. Servant, my lady.' Old Tom rose to go. Lady Jocelyn took his hand cordially, though she could not help smiling at the humility of the cobbler's son in his manner of speaking of the Tory candidate. 'Won't you stop with us a few days?' 'I 'd rather not, I thank ye.' 'Won't you see Rose?' 'I won't. Not till she's married.' 'Well, Tom, we're friends now?' 'Not aware I've ever done you any harm, my lady.' 'Look me in the face.' The trial was hard for him. Though she had been five-and-twenty years a wife, she was still very handsome: but he was not going to be melted, and when the perverse old fellow obeyed her, it was with an aspect of resolute disgust that would have made any other woman indignant. Lady Jocelyn laughed. 'Why, Tom, your brother Andrew's here, and makes himself comfortable with us. We rode by Brook's farm the other day. Do you remember Copping's pond--how we dragged it that night? What days we had!' Old Tom tugged once or twice at his imprisoned fist, while these youthful frolics of his too stupid self and the wild and beautiful Miss Bonner were being recalled.