“And not at all! Oh, it can be managed, I do assure you! Oh, it would be too droll, too delightful! And it would be better than droll, for ’twould be a certain way to heal the breach, the sad, sad breach between our poor Kil and that same jealous Kitty. Pray, Brother-in-law, before you interrupt, let me speak one word! Kitty’s Royals, King, Queen and Princesses, will but pass through the Assembly Rooms. ’Tis the way of Royalty. ’Tis all anyone would expect of them, more especially as His Majesty is so out of health. What is to prevent the Prince changing his mind, and popping in for late supper? By the Prince, I mean you, Tom. Come now, you know ’tis a thing he might do very well. People would only say he could not bear the tedium of dancing at his Royal parents’ heels. Come now, Mr. Stafford, sir. I see it in your eye. You know ’tis a trick could be played on my Lady with perfect success? Oh, you need not present yourself on the scene till every one should have departed, save the select little circle, those sweet, dear, charming ladies and their stupid husbands, who won’t have anything to say to poor little me! And then, oh, Mr. Stafford, you must be monstrous charmed, and monstrous gallant, and--well, monstrous tipsy if you like, and you will but the closer ape our dear future Sovereign! And then (oh, how you gape!) don’t you see? You must kiss my Lady, and if she don’t have to forgive my Lord afterwards----” “Foh!” said Mr. Stafford. “’Tis the rankest nonsense. And I’m not so prodigious like the Prince as all that.” “Oh, but you are, Mr. Stafford! Didn’t my Lord Kilcroney take you for him but yesterday? With one of those new white chokers, and a frill to the shirt, and a bit of blue ribbon across it and a new wig with a top-knot to it, and a fine brocade waistcoat on your fine figure--you were always so clever at the acting, Brother-in-law!--I’d defy even your Prue to find you out!” Mr. Stafford was apparently unconvinced, for Molly Lafone’s accents changed from wheedling to taunting. “And indeed, Tom, I thought you’d more spirit. Here I give you such a chance as never was of paying my Lady out for the trick she played on you. Why, she made you the laughing-stock of Bath. Oh, I have heard such droll tales--how, rather than marry you, she made my Lord--Denis O’Hara, as he was then--dress up as a woman and pretend to be your previous wife at the altar steps. Are you so mean-spirited as to forget? And ’tisn’t as if it wouldn’t be the best turn in the world for my Lord, and him so good-natured, and treated so shameful! I thought gentlemen stood by each other. For a wife to insult her husband so!” “It mightn’t put me in such very good odour with His Royal Highness,” said Mr. Stafford, and Pamela knew by his tone that he was faltering. “As if anyone was likely to tell him. However, if you’re afraid, Brother-in-law----” “You’re a little devil,” said Mr. Stafford.