MRS. ARD. So many in her position do, don't they? (_So far as she is concerned--they all do._) You'd think it was haughtiness--but it's really only _manner_. MRS. ALL. (_feeling that she can go ahead with safety now_). I have never found anything of _that_ sort in Lady Neuraline myself (_which is perfectly true._) She's rather odd and flighty, but _quite_ a dear. By the way, _how_ sad it is about those poor dear Chutneys--the Countess, don't you know! MRS. ARD. Ah (_as if she knew all the rest of the family_), I don't know _her_ at all. MRS. ALL. Such a sweet woman--but the trouble she's had with her eldest boy, Lord Mango! He married quite beneath him, you know, some girl from the provinces--not a county-family girl even. MRS. ARD. (_shocked_). Dear, dear! _not_ a county family! MRS. ALL. No; somebody quite common--I forget the name, but it was either Gherkin or Onion, or something of that sort. I was told they had been in Chili a good while. Poor Mango never had much taste, or he would never have got mixed up with such a set. Anyway, he's got himself into a terrible pickle. I hear Capsicums is actually to be sold to pay his debts. MRS. ALL. You don't say so! Capsicums! Gracious! MRS. ALL. Yes, _isn't_ it a pity! Such a lovely old place as it was, too--_the_ most comfortable house to stay at in all England; so beautifully _warm_! But it's dreadful to think of how the aristocracy are taking to marry out of their own set. Look at the Duke of Dragnet--married a Miss Duckweed--goodness only knows where he picked her up! but he got entangled somehow, and now his people are trying to get rid of her. I see so many of these cases. Well, I'm afraid I must wish you good evening--it's my time for retiring. (_Patronisingly._) I've quite enjoyed the conversation--such a pleasure in a place like this to come across a genial companion!