Do you
think any mother in Belgravia would make a row about that? They are
downier than you are; they would shrug their aristocratic shoulders,
and decline to listen to the _past_ lives of their sons-in-law--unless
it was all in the newspapers, mind you."
"If Belgravian mothers have mercenary minds, that is no reason why I
should, whose cheeks have bronzed in the service of a virtuous queen,
and whose hairs have whitened in honor."
On receiving this broadside the Somerset altered her tone directly, and
said, obsequiously: "That is true, sir, and I beg your pardon for
comparing you to the trash. But brave men are pitiful, you know. Then
show your pity here. Pity a gentleman that repented his faults as soon
as your daughter showed him there was a better love within reach, and
now lies stung by an anonymous viper, and almost dying of love and
mortification; and pity your own girl, that will soon lose her health,
and perhaps her life, if you don't give in."
"She is not so weak, madam. She is in better spirits already."
"Ay, but then she didn't know what he had suffered for _her._ She does
now, for I heard her moan; and she will die for him now, or else she
will give you twice as many kisses as usual some day, and cry a
bucketful over you, and then run away with her lover.
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