Mab, unfortunately, did not understand the whole weight of the insinuation in this remark, and she did not see her mother’s face behind her. She answered quickly for herself. ‘I have not a very good temper, Mrs. Swinford. When people say nasty things to me, I can be nasty too.’ ‘So I presume,’ said the lady of the house. ‘Or to my mother,’ said Mab; ‘she is too patient and too much a lady; but I’m not.’ ‘Mab!’ said her mother’s warning voice behind. ‘It is that I think this lady wants to provoke me,’ said Mab, ‘and I don’t see----’ ‘My dear, you will show your superiority best by not suffering yourself to be provoked.’ Mab went off to one of the jardinières with a little toss of her head, and it was at this moment that Leo came in, a little hurried and not without agitation. He came in saying quickly, ‘I have just heard that you had visitors, mother.’ ‘Leo,’ said Mrs. Swinford, ‘I have something to say to Emily here. I did not expect her to bring her daughter, and I did not desire my son’s company. You can go and show the young lady the pictures; it is a young man’s business; and you ought to thank me for giving you the opportunity. Now, Emily, _à nous deux_.’ ‘I was not aware,’ said Lady William, pale but steadfast, ‘that what you wanted to say to me was of particular importance.’ ‘You thought I only sent for you to say I love you,’ said Mrs. Swinford. ‘Well, you knew that already; but I had something much more serious to say. And I am glad, after all, you brought your little girl, Emily; for she is the strongest argument I can bring forward to make you do what I want you to do.’ ‘And what is that?’ said Lady William. ‘I must warn you that I am not very open to advice.’ ‘As if I did not know you were not open to advice! except, my dear, you will recollect, when you wished to take a certain course which was advised.’ ‘Did I wish to take it?’ said Lady William; ‘that is what has never been clear.’ ‘Oh, did you wish it?’ cried Mrs. Swinford, with a laugh. ‘However, that is old ground; but if I have any responsibility for that first step, Emily, I have the more right to speak now. For that child’s sake you must make overtures to the family. Whatever they may do or say, it is for you to put your pride in your pocket, and make friends with them, if they like it or not. Your claims must be fully established.’ ‘My claims?’ said Lady William; ‘there has never been any question made of my claims.’ ‘Probably not, so long as you live; but look at that child. You must make everything certain for her; I must press it upon you with all my might, Emily. Life is uncertain, and you have nothing of your own.’ ‘Not much, that is true.’ ‘And what would she have to depend upon if you died? You don’t even know what questions might arise. They might ask her what her proofs were, what evidence she had.’