"They are vastly pretty, and full of feeling!" exclaimed Lady Betty the next morning. "I declare, Griselda, you are without an atom of sentiment; you sat listening to them with a face like a marble statue. It is well for you that you are not a victim to sentiment as I am. I vow I could weep at the notion of the sorrowful soul who wrote those impassioned couplets which were read before the five stanzas, so much admired. Ah!" Lady Betty continued, with a yawn--for it was her yawning-time between her first and second visit to the Pump Room--"ah! it is well for some folks that they are callous. I am all impatience to get a copy of those rhymes for Lord Basingstoke; and--_entre nous, ma chere, entre nous_--when do you propose to accept Sir Maxwell Danby's suit? He formally asked my permission to address you. It would be a good match, and----" "I have not the slightest intention, Aunt Betty, of listening to Sir Maxwell Danby's proposal." Griselda always gave Lady Betty that title when angry. "Oh! how high and mighty we are! But I would have you to know, miss, I cannot afford to keep you for ever. I am now embarrassed, and a dun has been here this very morning; so I advise you not to overlook Sir Maxwell Danby's offer." "If there were not another man in the world I would not marry Sir Maxwell," Griselda said, rising. "I will consider other matters, and tell you of my decision." "You silly child! Where are you going, pray?" "To my own chamber." "You must be powdered for the ball to-night. I promised Sir Maxwell he should have his opportunity at my Lady Westover's dance. Perkyns is coming at four o'clock. You must be powdered. It is not the mode to appear in full toilette, with your hair as it was dressed last night. That gold band may suit some faces, but not yours. Do you hear, miss?" "I hear," Griselda said; "and I repeat I do _not_ go with your ladyship to Lady Westover's ball." "The minx!--the impudent little baggage! You shall repent your saucy words. But you'll come round, see if you don't, if you hear that pale-faced fellow Travers is to be of the company. Yes; go and ask his old mother about it--go!" Griselda shut the door with a sharp bang, which made Lady Betty call loudly for her salts, and brought Graves from the inner room. "Such impudence! I won't stand it--the little baggage! She _shall_ marry Sir Maxwell Danby, or I wash my hands of her." Graves calmly held the salts to her mistress's nose: they were strong, and Lady Betty called out: "Not too near! Oh! oh! I am not faint;" and immediately went off into hysterical crying, which, for obvious reasons, was tearless. Meanwhile, Griselda had gone to her room; and, putting on a long black pelisse and a wide hat with a drooping feather, set well over her eyes, she left the house, carrying in a large satchel, which was fastened to her side, the box containing the jewels she wanted to sell.