I dined in the nursery, but went down to supper, where I had to meet my Lord's jokes, as I expected, but he was in a good humor, and more inclined, I thought, to be merry at his sister's expense than at mine, reminding her of what she had said about Mr. Penrose not being a marrying priest, and telling her that her turn would come next. Whereat she was very angry, which only led him on to tease her the more. Then he turned to me, and swore I was a fool not to have the parson, adding that he would have put the parsonage in good order for me, but he would not touch it for Mr. Penrose. It was good enough for a bachelor. "Perhaps Margaret may think better of it," said my Lady. "She is but young, and she is promised to me for a year at least. There is no time lost. She is not yet eighteen." "Nay, that is not fair—to keep the poor fish on your hook so long, Margaret!" said my Lord. "Either land him or let him go." "No fear of her landing him!" remarked Lady Jemima, with a sneer. "She is angling for higher game. She fishes for salmon, not for trout." I felt my face grow scarlet, but I would not say a word. My Lord looked from one to another. "What do you mean?" he asked, wonderingly. "Mr. Corbet finds the chase wondrous attractive of mornings!" returned Lady Jemima, with another sneer. "He is very fond of poor Betty's society, nowadays. 'Birds of a feather flock together,' they say!" "So! I take your meaning," said my Lord. "Is that true, Mrs. Merton, that you are setting your cap at my cousin, and think Corby-End at present, and Stanton Court in reversion, mayhap, better than Stanton Parsonage? Is that Jem's meaning?" "What Lady Jemima means she can perhaps explain herself," said I, rising from the table. "Meantime, I must beg your Ladyship's permission to retire, and henceforth to take my meals with Lady Betty in the nursery, or with Mrs. Judith. There at least I shall be safe from insult!" My Lord stared a moment, and then burst out into one of his great laughs. "Gad-a-mercy, what a firebrand it is!" said he, as soon as he could speak. "Who could think gentle Mrs. Merton could look so like a queen of tragedy! Nay, nay, sit you down, my maid, and finish your supper, and nobody shall affront you. What, then! I must have my joke, you know, and, if Wat did make love to you under pretext of caring for the child, it would not be the first time such a thing has chanced. Many a long dull sermon have I sat out under my wife's uncle the Bishop, that I might have the pleasure of sitting next her, and reading from the same book. Come now, sit down again, and care you not for my jokes nor for sister Jem's sour grapes!" "You are blind, brother, utterly blind!" said Lady Jemima, as I resumed my seat, feeling rather ashamed of my outburst. "And you are spiteful, Jem!" retorted my Lord. "You need not grudge every other woman a sweetheart because you have none!"