at, and so I told her what he had said, and asked why? There happened
to be a pause just then and, as one has to speak rather loud to Lady
Cecilia to attract her attention, every one heard, and they all looked
_flabergasted;_ and then all shrieked with laughter, and Sir Dennis
said so crossly, "Little fool!" and Lady Desmond simply glared at me,
and Lady Cecilia said, "Really, Elizabeth!" and Sir Dennis got purple
in the face, and Jane Roose whispered, "How could you dare with his
wife listening!" and every one talked and chaffed. It was too stupid
about nothing; but the astonishing part is, that funny old thing I
thought was the mother turns out to be _his wife!_

Imagine! years and years older than him! Jane Roose said he had to
marry her because her husband died; but I think that the most absurd
reason I ever heard, don't you? Lots of people's husbands die, and they
don't have to get married off again at once--so why should that ugly
old thing, specially when there are such heaps of nice girls about?

[Sidenote: _A Man of Honour_]

Jane Roose said it was so honourable of him, but I call it
crazy--unless, perhaps, he was a great friend of the husband's, who
made him promise when he was dying, and he did not like to break his
word. How he must have hated it! I wonder if he had ever met her
before, or if the husband made him take her, a pig in a poke. I expect
that was it, because he never could have done it if he had ever seen
her.

I can't think why he is so cross with me, but I am sorry, as he is such
a nice man. Now I am sleepy, and it is frightfully late, so I suppose I
had better get into bed. Agnès came up, and has been fussing about for