And of course that is what a good many people said. They said it was Lady Penelope’s fun. The Marchioness of Rigsby, who settled every one’s affairs, said so to Titania. "Why wasn’t she beaten, my dear, when she was young?" asked the marchioness. "I was severely beaten; it did me good; it gave me sense. I always used to beat my girls with the flat of my hand, and now they are _most_ sensible and married excellently, although I own they are not beauties. I can afford to own it now. I shall speak to Penelope myself." She did it and was routed. Pen was direct; she beat no one, and certainly did not beat about the bush. She had no fear of the world, and dreaded no marchioness. "I’ll attend to my own affairs, thank you," said Pen. "My dear love," said the marchioness, "you ought to have been beaten while you were still young. This conduct of yours is a scandal. It is merely a means of attracting public notice. And I am old enough to speak about it. I will speak about it." Pen left her speaking and went out. "She is distinctly rude," said the marchioness, viciously. "I wish she was about ten and I was her mother!" But Pen could not endure being spoken to. "I love him," said Pen, "and what business is it of theirs? If they disapprove I shall hate them! If they approve I shall hate them worse. Oh, I almost wish I was going to marry some one who would make them die!" "Mark me," said the marchioness to Titania, "this will end in her marrying a groom. Has she a good-looking one?" Titania started. "Oh, a very good-looking one," she cried. "What did I say? Remember what I said," said the marchioness, darkly. "No really good girl could act as she does. She will marry a groom!" She went around saying so in revenge for Penelope’s want of politeness. The journalists took Timothy Bunting’s photograph, and Miss Weekes was proud till she heard the dreadful rumour. Timothy beat a man on a paper, and Bob was delighted. Titania took to her bed, and said the end of the world was at hand. Bradstock laughed till he cried, and cut the marchioness in the park. Her husband was very much pleased at this, and said it served her right. Chloe Cadwallader wrote her first letter since the scandal to Cadwallader in the Rockies, for she felt he would be the only man in the world who hadn’t heard of it. Ethel lay wait for Captain Goby, and asked him to kill some one. There was not a soul in London who did not hear of it. And then Timothy quarrelled with Harriet Weekes. He went to Penelope, and with a crimson face and bated breath and much humbleness asked to be sent down to the country. "You shall go," said Penelope, with great decision. "I can trust you, I know." "My lady, you can trust me with untold gold and diamonds," replied Timothy Bunting, almost with tears.