"I don't say that, but a clever one if I'm not mistaken."

"Clever! Oh la! Much good will her cleverness do her. Clever! Aye in
always having a crowd o' sparks a dangling after her. That Miss
What's-her-name in Queen Square'll have to get up early to best Lavinia
when there's a man about."

"A mother shouldn't say such ill-natured things of her own child," said
Gay reprovingly. "She's hardly a woman yet."

"But she knows as much. Well, you've got your bargain. Make your best of
it. What about her clothes? She's but a rag-bag though it's no fault o'
mine. Pray who's going to buy her gowns, her hats, her petticoats, her
laces and frills. You?"

"I? Bless me! no, woman. I know nothing about such things," rejoined Gay
colouring slightly. "I will send a woman who understands the business."

"It's all one to me. Maybe you'd better tell your tale to Lavinia with
your own lips. I've done with her."

"By all means. I should like to see her."

Mrs. Fenton, whose eyes all the while had been gloating over the gold on
the table now swept it into her pocket. It was a windfall which had come
at the right moment. She was tired of Bedfordbury. She aimed at a step
higher. There was a coffee house business in the Old Bailey going cheap,
the twenty pounds would enable her to buy it.