“It’s of no use your saying, ‘’ush! ’ush! ’ush!’ to me, Sig-nor! You don’t want me to be ’ankering after a young man now that I’m the Markiness dee Sorrento, do you? Which I don’t, I’m sure! I often wonders ’ow I could ever ’ave fancied Joe, with his coarse ’air, and his pig’s eyes! I’m sure if I ’ad my rights and a ’ouse fit for a Markiness, I would never arsk ’im into it! I’d ’ave no one under a Barrow-knight, or a squire, within the walls. I should know ’ow to play my part, you bet, Professor--I means, Markiss!” Ricardo sighed. “Well! my poor girl, I fear you will never have the opportunity of trying it,” he said. “But will you give me a séance this evening! I feel rather low-spirited, and it will cheer me and do me good.” “O! you can ’ave it and welcome,” replied Hannah, “but, I say Markiss, it do seem a pity now, to ’ave all this fuss, and two good hours wasted, only for you, don’t it? And if we ’ad a dozen or so of strangers with their ’alf guinea each, why, I’d make more in a night than you can do in a week.” She hung coaxingly over him, as she spoke, but Ricardo put her away, as though the suggestion had come from the Evil One. “I have said ‘No!’ already, and I would repeat it a thousand times!” he ejaculated. “You don’t know what you are talking of! Your insinuation is a desecration of the angel, for whom alone I value your services.” “Didn’t _she_ like being a Markiness?” asked Hannah, as she left the room to make some little preparations before the séance. Her remark set Ricardo thinking how much all women are alike. “How they love a title!” he pondered inwardly. “Although Leonora was of noble birth, I can well remember her pleasure, less roughly expressed than that of this poor untutored girl, but still the same, when she first assumed my name, and heard herself called Marchesa di Sorrento. “And how proud I was of her, with her lovely face and swan-like figure, all life and grace! She looked a Marchioness, from the crown of her noble head to her dainty feet. But this poor, uncouth child of nature! I never thought of the disgrace to my title, when I married her! Steinberg reminded me of it, but I considered it dead, and myself only as a drudging teacher! How did she find out about it, I wonder! It is inconceivable--still more, that she should take such a keen pleasure in assuming it! Well! it is a misfortune, but I cannot prevent her! It _is_ her name beyond all dispute, and if she will use it, she must!