“Oh, I hope not, aunt; he and I do not suit one another at all.” “Why not?” rather sharply. “I’ve not sufficient ‘go’ in me. I can’t talk about the people he knows. I’m not smart, or up to date. I can’t say amusing things like Miss Paske; I am merely a stupid little country mouse!” “And she is a little cat!” with a quick nod. “Well, I must say I’d fifty times rather have Jervis myself. He has such nice manners--different to other young men, who come to my house, and eat and drink of the best, and scarcely look at me afterwards. There was that Thorpe; he never even got off his chair when I spoke to him at the club. I know I’m not a lady born--my father was a wheelwright--but he and his had been in the same place three hundred years. Still, I have my feelings, and that Thorpe, though he may be a lord’s son, is no gentleman. He thought I was deaf, and I heard him say to a man, when I was on his arm-- “‘I’m going to supper the old girl.’ “‘Not _this_ old girl, thank you, sir,’ said I, and I drew back and went and sat down again. ’Ow he does ’ate me, to be sure. Well, Honor, I wish you a pleasant partner, for these dinners are long affairs.” “Are they indeed, aunt? I am sorry to hear it.” “If they bring the _entrées_ in after the joint, which is new-fashioned and leading to mistakes, we are stuck for two mortal hours. These native servants are the ten plagues of Egypt. Once--oh lor! I shall never forget the lady’s face--I saw a man handing round mashed potatoes as an _entrée_--all alone! Once I saw a wretch offering mustard in a breakfast-cup, and the mistress having splendid silver cruet-stands. Of course he had some spite against her. It’s on _these_ occasions they pay you out, when they know you are tied hand and foot. As for myself, I am all right, being senior lady--the doctor takes _me_. Mrs. Langrishe for once will be nowhere, for the Loyds (she being a commissioner’s daughter) know what’s what. They have the rules of precedence at their fingers’ ends, but anyway I can always lend them this,” and she took up a book bound in blue paper, and began to read aloud-- “‘All wives take place according to the rank assigned to their respective husbands.’ Do they indeed!” she snorted. “I’d like to know how many times Mrs. Langrishe has walked through _that_ rule? Now my husband, being a member of council, comes next to a bishop. Do you see, Honor?” “Yes, Aunt Sara.” “Whilst Mrs. Langrishe ranks below political agents of twelve years’ standing. And I’m not at _all_ sure that she ought to go in before the educational department, second class.” “No, aunt,” replied Honor, endeavouring to look wise, and marvelling much at Mrs. Brande’s enthusiasm. Her colour had risen, her eyes shone, as she energetically brandished the pamphlet in her hand.