"Lord George doesn't care about balls," said Mary, laughing. "Come, come! Don't try and humbug me. It had been all arranged that you should come when he went to bed. Hadn't it now?" "Something had been said about it." "A good deal had been said about it, and he had agreed. Are you going to tell me that he won't go out with you, and yet dislikes your going out without him? Is he such a Bluebeard as that?" "He's not a Bluebeard at all, Mrs. Jones." "I hope not. There has been something about that German Baroness;--hasn't there?" "Oh dear no." "I heard that there was. She came and took you and the brougham all about London. And there was a row with Lady Selina. I heard of it." "But that had nothing to do with my going to your party." "Well, no; why should it? She's a nasty woman, that Baroness Banmann. If we can't get on here in England without German Baronesses and American she doctors, we are in a bad way. You shouldn't have let them drag you into that lot. Women's rights! Women are quite able to hold their own without such trash as that. I'm told she's in debt everywhere, and can't pay a shilling. I hope they'll lock her up." "She is nothing to me, Mrs. Jones." "I hope not. What was it then? I know there was something. He doesn't object to Captain De Baron; does he?" "Object to him! Why should he object to Captain De Baron?" "I don't know why. Men do take such fancies into their heads. You are not going to give up dancing;--are you?" "Not altogether. I'm not sure that I care for it very much." "Oh, Lady George; where do you expect to go to?" Mary could not keep herself from laughing, though she was at the same time almost inclined to be angry with the old lady's interference. "I should have said that I didn't know a young person in the world fonder of dancing than you are. Perhaps he objects to it." "He doesn't like my waltzing," said Mary, with a blush. On former occasions she had almost made up her mind to confide her troubles to this old woman, and now the occasion seemed so suitable that she could not keep herself from telling so much as that. "Oh!" said Mrs. Montacute Jones. "That's it! I knew there was something. My dear, he's a goose, and you ought to tell him so." "Couldn't you tell him," said Mary, laughing. "Would do it in half a minute, and think nothing of it!" "Pray, don't. He wouldn't like it at all." "My dear, you shouldn't be afraid of him. I'm not going to preach up rebellion against husbands. I'm the last woman in London to do that. I know the comfort of a quiet house as well as any one, and that two people can't get along easy together unless there is a good deal of give and take. But it doesn't do to give up everything. What does he say about it?" "He says he doesn't like it." "What would he say if you told him you didn't like his going to his club." "He wouldn't go."