d as his mother, and has
not a penny to her fortune; but if he chooses to do so silly a thing,
the affair is none of mine; and I doubt whether I should have been
much inclined to be taken au serieux with regard to that offer of five
thousand pounds which I made in the heat of our talk. So it was already
at Castlewood that this pretty affair was arranged? Had I known how far
it had gone, my dear, I should have spared some needless opposition.
When a pitcher is broken, what railing can mend it?"

"Madam!" here interposed Maria.

"Pardon me--I mean nothing against your ladyship's honour or character,
which, no doubt, are quite safe. Harry says so, and you say so--what
more can one ask?"

"You have talked to Mr. Warrington, madam?"

"And he has owned that he made you a promise at Castlewood: that you
have it in his writing."

"Certainly I have, madam!" says Lady Maria.

"Ah!" (the elder lady did not wince at this). "And I own, too, that at
first I put a wrong construction upon the tenor of your letters to him.
They implicate other members of the family----"

"Who have spoken most wickedly of me, and endeavoured to prejudice me
in every way in my dear Mr. Warrington's eyes. Yes, madam, I own I have
written against them, to justify myself."

"But, of course, are pained to think that any wretch should get
possession of stories to the disadvantage of our family, and make them
public scandal. Hence your disquiet just now."

"Exactly so," said Lady Maria. "From Mr. Warrington I could have nothing
concealed henceforth, and spoke freely to him. But that is a very
different thing from wishing all the world to know the disputes of a
noble family."

"Upon my word, Maria, I admire you, and have done you injustice.
These--these twenty years, let us say."

"I am very glad, madam, that you end by doing me justice at all," said
the niece.

"When I saw you last night, opening the ball with my nephew, can you
guess what I thought of, my dear?"

"I really have no idea what the Baroness de Bernstein thought of," said
Lady Maria, haughtily.

"I remembered that you had performed to that very tune with the
dancing-master at Kensington, my dear!"

"Madam, it was an infamous calumny."

"By which the poor dancing-master got a cudgelling for nothing!"

"It is cruel and unkind, madam, to recall that calumny--and I shall
beg to decline living any longer with any one who utters it," continued
Maria, with great spirit.

"You wish