“Oh, business indeed!” said Mrs. Pimpernel. “Business that takes him to Clare Arden’s side every afternoon! I don’t much believe in that kind of business. What he can see in her I am sure I cannot divine. A stuck-up thing! looking down upon them that are as good as she is any day! Just fancy a man leaving our Alice hitting the balls about all day by herself, poor child, on the lawn!--a man staying in the house!--and going off to the Hall to Clare Arden! Do you call that proper respect? As for good taste, I don’t speak of that, for it is clear he has not got any. And you take my word for it, business is nothing but a pretence.” “I am not so sure of that,” said Mr Pimpernel. “You see, if he really is doing anything, it’s his policy to make himself agreeable to that girl. She gives him access to the papers, you know. The papers are the great thing. Don’t you be too exacting for a day or two. If Alice mopes let me know; by Jove! I won’t have my little girl crossed. It’s odd if I can’t buy her anything she takes a fancy to. But all the same he’s an old fellow is Arden, and he hasn’t a penny to bless himself with. I can’t see much reason why she should set her heart on him.” “Upon my word and honour, Mr. Pimpernel!” said the lady, “if that is all the opinion you have of your own child---- Set her heart on Arthur Arden, indeed! She would never have looked at him if it hadn’t been for that talk about the property. And if it turns out to be a mistake about the property, do you think I’d ever----? I hope I have more opinion of my girl than that. But when I ask a man to my house, I own I look for proper respect. I consider it’s his business to make himself agreeable to me, and not to strangers. My house ain’t an inn to be at the convenience of visitors to Arden. If he likes best being there, let him go and live there. I say Arden is Arden, and the Red House is the Red House, and the one don’t depend upon the other, nor has nothing to do with the other. If there’s one thing I hate it is pride and mean ways. Let her take him in and keep him if she wants him. But I won’t keep him, and feed him with the best of everything, and champagne like water, for Miss Clare Arden’s sake, or Miss anything that ever was born!” Mrs. Pimpernel was tying on her nightcap as she spoke, and the act deafened her a little, for the nightcap strings were stiff and well starched--which was perhaps the reason why she delivered the concluding words in so loud a voice. Mr. Pimpernel was a courageous man enough, but when it came to this he was too prudent to do anything to increase the storm.