very
good friends, my pretty child, very good friends, and that not so long
ago, either. Ay, _Mater pulchra, filia pulchrior_."

"But I happen to be her grand-daughter, please my lord," said I, and
then I ran to fetch him a chair (for I was dreadfully afraid he was
going to kiss me). But though no one has ever accused me of speaking
too modestly to be heard, my lord had a sudden fit of deafness, and I
saw Tanty give me a little frown, while the old thing--he must be much
older than Tanty even--tottered into a chair, and went on mumbling.

"I was only a boy in those days, my dear, only a boy, as your good
aunt will tell you. I can remember how the bells rang the three
beautiful Irish sisters into Bath, and I and the other dandies stood
to watch them drive by. The bells rang in the _belles_ in those days,
my dear, he, he, he! only we used to call them 'toasts' then, and your
mother was the most beautiful of 'the three Graces'--we christened
them 'the three Graces'--and by gad she led us all a pretty dance!"

"Ah, my lord," says Tanty, and I could see her old eyes gleam though
her tone was so pious, "I fear we were three wild Irish girls indeed!"

Lord Manningham was too busy ogling me to attend to her.

"Your mother was just such another as you, and she had just such a
pair of dimples," said he.

"You mean my grandmother," shouted I in his ear, just for fun, though
Tanty looked as if she were on pins and needles. But he only pinched
my cheek again and went on:

"Before she had been here a fortnight all the bucks in the town were
at her feet. And so was I, so was I. Only, by gad, I was too young,
you know, as Miss O'Donoghue here will tell you. But she liked me; she
used to call me her 'little manny.' I declare I might have married
her, only there were family reasons, and I was such a lad, you know.
And then Jack Waterpark, some of us thought she would have had _him_
in the end--being an Irishman, and a rich man, and a marquis to
boot--he gave her the name of _Murthering Moll_, because of her
killing eyes, young lady--he! he! he!--and there was Ned Cuffe ready
to hang himself for her, and Jim Denham, and old Beau Vernon, ay, and
a score of others. And then one night at the Assembly Rooms, after the
dancing was over and we gay fellows were all together, up gets
Waterpark, he was a little tipsy, my dear, and by gad I can hear him
speak now, with that brogue of his. 'Boys,' he says, 'it's no use your
trying for her an