"It is for the benefit of your daughter," he stammered.

"Her benefit, indeed. Fiddle-de-dee! Your own you mean. I know what men
are. If she was an ugly slut you wouldn't take no notice of her. Don't
talk rubbish. What are you a going to give me for saying, yes. That's
business, mister. Come, how much?"

The poet saw there was no other way but talking business. This
embarrassed him still more for he was the last man qualified to act in
such a capacity.

"I'll see what I can do," said he nervously, "but you mustn't forget
that Lavinia will have to be quite two years at school, and there is her
music master----"

"Oh I dare say," rejoined the lady scoffingly, "and the mantle maker,
and the milliner, and the glover, and the hairdresser. That's your
affair, not mine. Name a round sum and I'll try to meet you. What d'ye
say?"

"Would five guineas----?"

"What!" shrieked Lavinia's mother. "And you call yourself a gentleman?"

"The sum I admit is a small one, but as you seemed anxious to get your
daughter off your hands I thought I was doing you a service by putting
the girl in a way to earn a good living."

"I dare say. I'm not to be taken in like that. Fine words butter no