Mary grew more and more compunctious. “It is her way of looking at things,” she said, faltering. “She is not like you, or me. She thinks so much of what people say. You came to dinner,” said Mary, suddenly, thinking of something that might break the blow, “in your velveteen coat.” An air of relief came over Ralph’s face. He laughed loudly, yet with evident ease. “So that’s what it is!” he said. “You’re ashamed of my clo’es, you two young women. Well, I must say women are the meanest beggars I ever saw, and I’ve met all sorts. Ashamed of my clo’es!” Mary was relieved beyond measure that he should so take it. She drew a long breath. “It’s so much thought of in this kind of a house,” she said; “and they are expecting Lord Frogmore. Oh, Ralph, don’t take it amiss. Letitia is not very strong. She has, perhaps, been spoilt a little, always getting her own way; and she has no room to give her brother-in-law. They get everything from him,” she added, hurriedly. “He is so rich: oh! Ralph, how can I say it. I would not for the world hurt your feelings. She wants you to go--while Lord Frogmore is here.” “She has no room to give her brother-in-law, and she prefers my room to my company, eh?” he said, with a harsh laugh. “I’m not good enough to meet that old fogey in my velvet coat. Why I thought velvet was all the fashion. They said so in the papers, Mary.” “Not in the evening, Ralph,” said Mary, with a sense of duplicity which made her turn away her face. “Not in the evening, eh? I suppose this fellow must have swallow-tails? Well, it’s a poor thing to snub your brother for, ain’t it, Mary? You wouldn’t do that to a brother of yours.” “I don’t think I should, Ralph; but then Letitia has married into a--grand family, and she has her husband’s people to think of.” “By George!” he cried, “her husband’s people! and me her own brother!” Mary could not refrain from one glance of sympathy--which he caught in the momentary raising of her eyes, and which was so kind yet timid that he burst into a sudden laugh. “Mary,” he said, endeavoring again to put his arm through hers--“You’ve never got a husband, my lass. Tell me how it is: for you were always a great deal prettier than Tisch, with nice little ways.” “Don’t, Ralph--I prefer to walk alone, if you please.” “You’re afraid to be seen, you little goose!” he said. “I know your dodges. Come, tell us how it was. If there was one lass in Grocombe that was sure to get a husband I should have said it was you. Come, Mary, tell! I think I know the reason why.” Mary looked at him with a little air which she intended to check impertinence, but which had no effect on Ralph. “I should think it was enough--that I preferred to stay as I am--without any other reason,” she said.