“Do tell him so,” said Arthur, “if you please. I don’t mind what you tell him. You don’t think I want you to make believe? You are all I wish for, Nancy, yourself--better than if you had known a dozen Lady So-and-So’s.” “Oh, but I am sure you watch me,” she cried. “I always feel that your eye is upon me, Arthur. You are afraid I will say something wrong; and I am afraid too, except when I want to do it: and if I should do it some time, as I am sure I will if we go on, you will not like it. Arthur, don’t let us go further off; let us go home.” “Home? where is home?” he said. “I don’t know if I should have any welcome.” “But I should,” cried Nancy. “Mother and all of them would dance for joy. And think how much better we should be. We must be spending a mint of money here. You talk of going further, but I don’t believe you will be able to go further when you look into it. And I don’t know what we have to spend: you don’t tell me anything.” “I scarcely know myself,” said Arthur, with rather a bewildered look upon his face. “I don’t know what my father--things should be different now.” “And you are going away travelling without knowing? You will find,” said Nancy, becoming practical all at once, “that we have spent a great deal of money; always having carriages and going to the play--” “Not to many plays.” “Two; and that music Denham gave us tickets for--” “My darling, don’t be angry--but would you mind saying Sir John?” “Why should I say Sir John? You always call him Denham. And when we went to that Assembly there was another carriage. I suppose it would always be the same if we were going to other places; but at Underhayes it would not be like that. We could take a little house and furnish it, and you have such good taste, Arthur. We would make it so pretty, and everybody would be delighted to see us. I should manage everything, and keep the expenses right, and you--you--” “Yes!” said Arthur, taking her hands into his as she stood by him, “What for me? I should have nothing to do.”