“You know a good bit about people,” said Susiebelle, more respectfully. “I should think I did! People are no better than pigs; they’re swine.” “Pa made his money out of pigs.” “They’re one degree better than people, then.” “I wish you’d let me say what I came to say.” “Go on. No one’s hindering you but yourself.” “Camille Barringcourt’s a pig. He’s gone and asked old Agnes Crokerly to play hostess at his big do. And I thought now Lady Flamington was gone there’d be a chance for ma and me.” “What d’ye want with _him_?” said the other sneeringly. “He’s not a duke. He’s plain Mr.! Bless me, you’re coming down!” “Ah! but he’s got a mint of money.” “You’ve got enough money for two and more, if need be. What you want is a title. If you looked back into his people you’d find they kept a chip potato shop, I dare be bound.” “Never!” said Susiebelle, with emphasis, the tears rising in her eyes. “He’s so real a gentleman he makes Lord Hysquint look like a twopence-halfpenny waiter in a restaurant I don’t want a duke” (her voice was rising), “I won’t have a duke! They’re common little sniggling things that are too proud for their place. One might think they’d never tasted sausage! I’ll marry who I want to, and if I don’t marry who I want, I’ll make everybody’s life a burden to them!” And her voice rose to a high pitch, for she was hysterical, and had never been much crossed in her life before. Miss Groggerton was enjoying the oratory so much, she made no attempt at interruption. This would be a delightful tale for repetition. Susiebelle, once having begun to speak, had lost control over her tongue, a state with which many will readily sympathise. “I went to the temple specially when Lady Flamington died, and thanked the Serpent, because I thought it was my turn next, and—and—and now it’s old Agnes Crokerly—old cat!” “Old Agnes Crokerly!” said Miss Groggerton, with a snort and a sneer. “Old Agnes Crokerly!” “Well, he’s asked her to do the thing for him. And he giving a big affair with Lady Flamington warm in her coffin yet! And never a crape band round his arm or his hat for her.” “Well! Women who make themselves too cheap can’t expect to be respected even in their graves.” “She never made herself too cheap. Ma fought tooth and nail to get her to our place, and wouldn’t have managed it then if it hadn’t been for Mr. Barringcourt, who’s more democratic in his views. He brought her to a charity concert when her husband was away in the land of Big Boasts and Loud Voices, and ma improved the occasion.” “And now,” said the other contemptuously, “you say John Crokerly’s sister has taken her place.” “Yes; it’s the way with young men. Mollycoddled by women old enough to be their mothers.” Her tears began to flow again. “He’s not so very young,” said Miss Groggerton impressively. “And you bet your bottom dollar it’s the other one he’s after.” “Which other?” and Susiebelle opened her big brown eyes. “What’s her name? Pa—Pa—Paleaf.”