“Liddy, Liddy, my dear! you should not have said anything about that old man. How is it possible that he could be a relation of Mr. Bonamy’s son-in-law? It is odd, of course, about the name; still, you know, there might be another Lydia Joscelyn in the world who was no relation of yours. There are Joscelyns down in the South. I thought when Sir John first remembered about your mother that it was one of them she had married; and there might just as well as not be a Lydia among them. Lydia is not a common name, no more common than Isaac--but there might be a Lydia among them, who, of course, would not be related to you.” “I don’t think now that he is related to Mr. Oliver,” Lydia said. “I wonder,” said Lionel, “what reason you have for that? It seems much more likely to me than before. I don’t think the fellow is a gentleman. Oh, he looks well enough, there is nothing amiss about his appearance; still there are some things I have remarked.” “If Lionel thinks so,” said Lady Brotherton, “my dear, in these matters, I always take the opinion of a man, just as about women I would take a lady’s opinion before all the men in the world. Oh, yes, it is very pretty to talk of jealousy, and all that; but you may be sure we all know our own kind the best. If Lionel thinks so, I would take his opinion before my own.” At this Lionel had compunctions, and drew back a little. “Perhaps I went too far,” he said. “I was out of temper. Still there are some things a man would not do, if----” but though he felt that he had been rash, he did not complete his sentence. The carriage stopped, indeed, at that moment at the inn door, and there was no time for him to say anything more; and Lydia took no further part in the discussion.