o be swept into the dust-bin. I've seen
scores of 'em, and I'd sooner a child of mine should die in a workus',
or be starved to death. But it's all nothing to the likes o' you.'

'I haven't done her any harm,' said Sir Felix, almost frightened.

'Then go away, and don't do her any. That's Mrs Hurtle's door open.
You go and speak to her. She can talk a deal better nor me.'

'Mrs Hurtle hasn't been able to manage her own affairs very well.'

'Mrs Hurtle's a lady, Sir Felix, and a widow, and one as has seen the
world.' As she spoke, Mrs Hurtle came downstairs, and an introduction,
after some rude fashion, was effected between her and Sir Felix. Mrs
Hurtle had heard often of Sir Felix Carbury, and was quite as certain
as Mrs Pipkin that he did not mean to marry Ruby Ruggles. In a few
minutes Felix found himself alone with Mrs Hurtle in her own room. He
had been anxious to see the woman since he had heard of her engagement
with Paul Montague, and doubly anxious since he had also heard of
Paul's engagement with his sister. It was not an hour since Paul
himself had referred him to her for corroboration of his own
statement.

'Sir Felix Carbury,' she said, 'I am afraid you are doing that poor
girl no good, and are intending to do her none.' It did occur to him
very strongly that this could be no affair of Mrs Hurtle's, and that
he, as a man of position in society, was being interfered with in an
unjustifiable manner. Aunt Pipkin wasn't even an aunt; but who was Mrs
Hurtle? 'Would it not be better that you should leave her to become
the wife of a man who is really fond of her?'

He could already see something in Mrs Hurtle's eye which prevented his
at once bursting into wrath;--but! who was Mrs Hurtle, that she should
interfere with him? 'Upon my word, ma'am,' he said, 'I'm very much
obliged to you, but I don't quite know to what I owe the honour of
your--your--'

'Interference you mean.'

'I didn't say so, but perhaps that's about it.'

'I'd interfere to save any woman that God ever made,' said Mrs Hurtle
with energy. 'We're all apt to wait a little too long, because we're
ashamed to do any little good that chance puts in our way. You must go
and leave her, Sir Felix.'

'I suppose she may do as she pleases about that.'

'Do you mean to make her your wife?' asked Mrs Hurtle sternly.

'Does Mr Paul Montague mean to make you his wife?' rejoined Sir Felix
with an impudent swagger. He had struck the blow certainly hard