"Good-morning, good-morning!" he said, as the carriage drove off. "Little wretch," he muttered as he watched the equipage out of sight, but with his hat on now. "I hate scandal, but if we don't have a toothsome bit before long over that little woman, I'm no man. It's vexatious, too," he said angrily, "doosid vexatious. I don't like it. So different to the other, and our sweet Christians here will throw dirt at both. Can't help it; can't help it. Well, Miss Clode, anything you want to recommend to me?" "Yes, my lord, I have a very charming little tortoise-shell-covered engagement-book or two. Most elegant and very cheap." "I don't want cheap things, my dear little woman. Let me see, let me see. Oh, yes, very nice indeed," he said, opening the case, and letting a scented note drop out on the counter. "Same make, I see, as the cigar-case I bought last week." "No, my lord, it is French." "No, no--no, no; don't tell me--English, English. People have stuck their advertisement in. Send it back to 'em. Do for some one else." "Then your lordship does not like the case?" "My dear little woman, but I do, doosidly, but don't offer me any more with that person's circular inside. There, there, there; take the price out of that five-pound note. Two guineas? And very cheap too. Doosid pretty little piece of art, Miss Clode. Doosid pretty little piece of art." "Wouldn't he have old Mrs Dean's pink note, auntie?" said Annie, as soon as his lordship had gone. "My dear child, this will never do. You see and hear far too much." "Please auntie, I can't help it," drawled the girl. "I shouldn't speak like that to anyone else." "Ah, well, I suppose not; and I have done right, I see. No; he would not have the pink note. This is the second he has refused. Old Mrs Dean will be furious, but she must have known that it would not last long." "I know why it is," said Annie eagerly. "I know, auntie." "You know, child?" "Yes, auntie; old Lord--" "Hush! don't call people old." "Lord Carboro' has taken a fancy to some one else." "Well, perhaps so," said Miss Clode, tapping her niece's fat cheek, and smiling. "People do take fancies, even when they are growing older," she added with a sigh. "Well, he hasn't taken a fancy to you." "Ugh! Oh, gracious, auntie, don't," said the girl with a shudder. "He's such a horrid old man. I can't think how it was that beautiful Miss Cora Dean could like him." "I can," said Miss Clode shortly. "Now go and see about the dinner, and don't talk so much." Volume One, Chapter XVI. MRS DEAN'S DRIVE.