"Nothing, sir, nothing, save to dress and undress me twice a day, give an eye to my gowns and arrange my toilet table. Apparently they think that I should--" The widow broke off to ring violently for Betty in order to reproach her with a careless supervision of Phyllida. Mr. Ripple seized the opportunity to make his farewells. He swore to himself that nothing should induce him to remonstrate again with a careless mother. He would say a friendly word to the child herself. The widow thanked the Beau for his advice and promised to be mighty severe with Phyllida. "Not if you will be warned by me, madam. No, no, I beg you will not think it was to urge severity that I made you this visit. No, no, it was merely to suggest prudence. Your humble servant, madam." "Your very devoted, sir." The widow curtsied the Beau out of the room, and, having heard the front door closed, she watched in prim disgust for the entrance of Betty. That young woman presently came into the room. "Well, vixen!" said the widow. "La! ma'am, what is it?" "Well, gypsy!" "Not a drop in my family, ma'am, and that's more than some of the cottage-folk near by can say." "Well, little Impropriety, what excuse have you to hand?" Betty asked what Impropriety meant. "Would it be stealing you mean, ma'am?" "Well, Madam Indecency!" Betty suddenly saw the widow's amber petticoat gleaming through the unfastened placket. "Dear love and barley breaks! However did I come to leave that undone! Never mind, ma'am. 'Tis not as if he'd caught a sight of your smock, though for my part I should not be afraid to show clean linen to any man, Bow or whatsoever." "'Tis not to talk of plackets that I called you, hussy, but of packets--love-packets, notes, letters, assignations." Betty began to understand. She remembered how they had met Mr. Ripple that morning in Curtain Garden, and at once connected the two incidents. "'Twould be about this very forenoon that you are talking, ma'am?" The widow was surprized. She had expected an impregnable barrier of mock stupidity. "It would," she answered severely. "Well, there now! And if I didn't say as 'twas very wrong, but indeed, he was so genteel and made such very grand bows that I didn't think as 'twould be kind to refuse him." "Refuse him what?" "Why, direction, ma'am, for the handsome poor soul was lost in the Maze. He was just twirling around from North to South like the weathercock on the old Parish Church at home." "Does it take an hour and a half to direct a man out of a shrubbery?" "No, indeed, ma'am, but hearing we was from Hampshire, he fell a-talking and said as when he was last there he was staying with my Lord Senna at Camomile Hall, and was bosom friend of Mr. the Honourable John Squills." The widow grew interested. The latter had once attended a hunting breakfast at Courteen Grange. "And what was the loquacious gentleman's name?" "Ah there! indeed, 'twas wrong of me, but if I didn't go and forget to axe him!"